“Yes! Maybe…” she said, her cheeks warming. She trailed behind him as he walked ahead, trying to match his pace without thinking too much. Their conversation had been surprisingly easy, and Angel couldn’t help but feel that they had really hit it off.
“Good night,” Joowon said as they reached the corridor.
“Yes, good night. Take a good rest,” Angel replied softly.
They pressed their door locks almost in unison. The familiar beep sounded, and Angel was about to step inside her apartment when something stopped her in her tracks.
“…Joowon.”
He turned, his expression calm and attentive. “Yes?”
She took a deep breath, summoning her courage. “I’ll treat you to lunch sometime.”
Joowon raised an eyebrow. “Treat me? Why?”
Angel’s fingers fidgeted at the strap of her bag. “It’s just… I caused you trouble when I was really drunk last time, and… I want to get closer to you.”
Joowon tilted his head, his lips forming a faint smile. “Hmm…”
Was that a rejection? Angel’s chest tightened for a second, the thought fleeting but sharp. Maybe she had asked too much.
But then Joowon spoke, calm yet certain. “It’s me who should treat you to lunch.”
“Huh?” Angel blinked at him.
“You stayed up late and drank with me today. I’ll buy you lunch, so call me in your free time.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested softly.
“I’m not just trying to be polite,” he said, his gaze steady.
A small smile tugged at her lips. She took his phone and typed in her number, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement.
“Why are you smiling like that?” Joowon asked, his tone teasing but curious.
“It’s been a long time since someone offered to buy lunch for me,” she admitted. “And… I didn’t imagine I’d get this close to you and have lunch together.”
“Why not?” he asked, genuinely intrigued.
“It was… unexpected,” she murmured, still smiling.
After saving her number, she handed back the phone.
“Good night. See you at school,” he said, straightening up.
“Yes!” she replied brightly, her heart still fluttering.
Later, after a quick shower, Angel lay down on her bed, the room quiet except for the hum of the city outside. She glanced at the clock—2 a.m. Already? She reached for her phone beside the pillow and tapped out a message to Chanwoo.
"Heyyy, I’m in bed now."
"You home?" came his reply almost immediately.
"Yeap. Gonna sleep now. Got a lecture at 9 a.m. T_T"
"You have a morning lecture tomorrow, yet you were drinking till now… lol"
"I just had one can of beer, you know."
"Next time, drink with me."
"Yeah XD"
"Great!"
"And why are you still awake?" Angel typed, a tinge of concern in her fingers.
"You know I’m a good trainee. I’m writing lyrics now," Chanwoo replied almost immediately.
"This late?"
"I can concentrate better at night. I’ll let you listen to it next time. You can look forward to it :)"
Angel chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Okie :D Don’t stay up all night! You have your part-time job tomorrow."
"Yes. I’ll go to bed soon. Sleep quickly. You’ve got a morning class tomorrow," he replied.
"Okie. Good night!"
"Night. Bye."
Angel put down her phone, her thoughts lingering on him. He’d been working on lyrics this late, even after a full day of part-time work and practice. She made a mental note to take him to a proper restaurant next time. He needed to eat well—he deserved it.
After setting her alarm, she hurried under the covers, hoping to catch a few precious hours of sleep.
The next morning, Angel made her way to the General Course lecture room, arriving ten minutes before class.
“Wow, it’s so crowded,” she murmured, weaving carefully through clusters of students gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing.
As she scanned the room, a small frown crossed her face. “I think I’m the only one taking this lecture from my major,” she whispered to herself.
Angel looked around the bustling classroom, her eyes scanning the crowd of students—but no one looked familiar. "How come I don’t know anyone in this crowded room?" she wondered, biting her lip. Maybe she should have signed up for the lecture Jiyoon was in.
With nothing else to do, she glanced down at her phone.
"Hmm. Let’s be optimistic," she muttered to herself.
Taking a lecture alone was fine, as long as she didn’t bump into someone uncomfortable. Not that she had any right now… or did she?
Suddenly, a memory popped into her mind—a guy who had flirted with her back when she was a freshman. Sweet words, charming smiles… and then, in the end, he ended up dating another girl.
"Ugh, I don’t even want to think about that… It’s so embarrassing."
Her cheeks heated further as she remembered walking around campus, hand in hand with him. "Why did I ever let that happen…?"
Angel shook her head, trying to push the memory away, just as the professor hurried into the lecture room.
“I’m a bit late today… I’m sorry. I’ll call the roll now,” he said, voice brisk as he opened his attendance list.
“Angel Cruz.”
“Here,” she replied promptly.
The roll call dragged on. In a class this huge, it took ages to get through, and Angel had already grown restless.
“Heejae Han,” the professor called.
Angel froze. Heejae Han… I think I’ve heard that name somewhere…
“Heejae Han,” the professor repeated, but no one answered.
“Heejae Han, is he not here? Then, next is—”
“Professor!”
A rush of footsteps echoed through the room as a guy hurried in, slightly out of breath. He dropped his bag beside Angel. She stole a quick glance, her heart skipping a little.
In this classroom full of unfamiliar faces, this one stood out.
“Huff… huff… Heejae Han here. I’m sorry for being late,” he said, settling into his seat.
Angel’s eyes widened. Finally, a familiar face—someone from her past—right here, in the middle of the sea of strangers.
“He’s… a student here?” Angel muttered under her breath, her jaw nearly dropping.
The name finally clicked in her mind. Heejae Han… The landlord? Her eyes widened. "Wait. The landlord is a college student?! He owns a house, and yet—he’s sitting in the same class as me?"
She stole another glance at him. He was still slightly flushed, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.
The professor smiled at him kindly. “I was also quite late today, and since you came during the roll call, I won’t mark you as late.”
“Thank you,” Heejae replied, bowing his head politely before sliding into the empty seat beside her.
Angel stiffened. Of all the crowded classrooms on campus, he had to sit next to her? She chewed her lip, debating. Should I say hi? We’re not close… but we do live in the same apartment building. If I stay quiet, it’ll feel weird.
Gathering her courage, she leaned slightly toward him.
“Umm… hello,” she said in a hushed tone.
Angel froze mid-step, cheeks warming as she mumbled, “Oh, I’m… Err… Room 302…”
Heejae’s grin was instant, sharp, and loud enough to carry down the hallway. “Ah-ha! Housebreaking attempt!”
A couple of students turned at the words, curious eyes flicking toward Angel like she had just been caught red-handed sneaking into a stranger’s apartment.
“That wasn’t a housebreaking attempt!” she snapped, her voice rising an octave. “I was just drunk…!”
Heejae raised his hands in mock surrender, feigning innocence. “Okay, okay. As you say.”
Angel’s jaw clenched. “Ugh!!” This guy—this insufferable guy—was testing every ounce of her patience. Who even cared if he lived in the same block? She certainly didn’t. From this moment on, she swore, she wasn’t speaking to him again.
By the time she slipped into class, Angel tried to shake him out of her mind. Professor Park was already talking, his chalk clacking against the board. Angel had thought he’d be the generous type—someone who wouldn’t even bother marking students late. But no. He was delivering a full-on lecture on the very first day.
Unbelievable.
Her eyes drooped. Her notepad filled up quickly, though not with notes—just doodles and aimless scribbles.
“No one can focus today, anyway…” she muttered under her breath.
Still, she straightened, pressing her pen to paper. "Focus, Angel. You need to get an A. You can’t mess this up."
Just as she gathered her determination, a small flutter landed on her notebook. A neon post-it.
Angel blinked.
Beside her, Heejae tapped the sticky note with his pen, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
"I’m sorry. I won’t tease you anymore. But I don’t know your name yet."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. Hmph. She’d be damned if she answered him.
Heejae glanced at her stony expression, and without missing a beat, scribbled another line on a fresh post-it.
"If I don’t know your name, I’ll have to keep calling you—Miss Housebreaking Attempt."
Angel’s head whipped toward him, eyes blazing. “What? No way!!!”
Angel let out a sharp breath through her nose before quickly scrawling her name in small letters on the corner of her notepad. Without meeting his eyes, she shoved it toward him.
Heejae glanced down, then lightly tapped his finger on the spot where her name was written. A small nod. No teasing remark followed. No cocky smile. Just silence.
Angel blinked at him. When he stayed like that—calm, almost thoughtful—he actually looked…
" kind of cute. Wait. Cute? No, you idiot! What’s cute about him?!" she scolded herself, cheeks burning. "Remember how he nearly slaughtered you in front of your parents?!"
Her heart gave a treacherous thump just recalling that night. The way it had pounded wildly, like she’d been caught committing the biggest crime of her life.
"He’s your enemy, Angel. Enemy. Even if he is… ridiculously good-looking."
The lecture finally ended, Professor Park erasing the board while students packed up noisily.
“Wow,” Angel muttered under her breath, stretching her stiff fingers. “That was a full lecture. That was so hardcore.”
Heejae slung his bag over his shoulder, giving her a sideways glance. “Do you take this lecture alone?”
“Huh? Yes. What about you?”
“Me too.”
He straightened, already heading toward the door. “We’ll see each other again next week. Goodbye, then.”
Angel hesitated for half a second before blurting, “Goodbye…!”
As the door closed behind him, she slumped against her chair, her thoughts spinning. He went to the same university? And on top of that, they shared the same class?
Her stomach tightened. "No. Doesn’t matter. It won’t matter. I won’t get tangled up with him, not one bit."
Saturday came.
Angel pushed her cart down the supermarket aisle, murmuring to herself as she eyed the shelves. “Yeah… I should start cooking for myself…”
All Angel had eaten yesterday were instant noodles and a couple of stale pieces of bread. After three weeks of living alone, her fridge looked like a wasteland—nothing fresh, nothing green, just bottled water and a sad pack of ketchup that had been there since day one.
If she kept this up, her blood was going to clot into jelly. She was sure of it.
“No more,” she muttered, pumping her fists as if declaring war. “I’m going to cook. I’m going to eat healthy food from now on!”
It wasn’t like she could always rely on her mom’s cooking anymore. Back home, her mother had practically treated the kitchen like a battlefield where Angel was the fragile recruit—never allowed near fire or knives in case she got hurt. As a result, at twenty years old, Angel still didn’t know how to cook. She didn’t even know how to fry an egg.
But today, that would change.
“Hmm. Today’s dish is… pasta in one pan,” she announced to herself, holding her phone up like it contained a sacred recipe.
If she succeeded, she was going to invite her parents over and surprise them. She could already imagine her mom’s shocked expression. Who knew Angel could cook without burning the apartment down?
With determination, she scrolled through the recipe on her phone and began tossing ingredients into her shopping basket. Tomatoes, garlic, pasta, olive oil—it all seemed manageable enough.
“Right,” she muttered, scanning the list. “I’ve got everything except… chicken breast. Chicken breast.”
She hovered in the meat section, staring at the neatly packed rows of raw chicken like they were exotic artifacts in a museum.
“Well, meat is meat,” she mumbled, reaching out uncertainly. “Let’s just get this one… or maybe the one next to it is better…”
“Hi.”
Angel’s hand froze mid-air. She turned, eyes widening. “Yoonho!”
Her neighbor—well, more like her family’s long-time acquaintance—stood there holding a basket of groceries like he belonged in this exact aisle.
“You came to buy chicken breasts?” Yoonho asked casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
“Yes…” Angel admitted, cheeks warming under his calm gaze.
He leaned forward, studying the meat section like a professional. “This one’s fresher. Don’t get the ones with white lines.” He picked up a neatly sealed pack and handed it to her.
Angel blinked, taking it carefully. “Thank you. But… how do you know so well about these things?”
“I eat this when I work out,” Yoonho explained simply, holding up the chicken breast like it was a badge of dedication.
“Wow…” Angel blinked, impressed. She could barely commit to jogging once a week, and here he was casually picking workout food like it was normal.
“Oh, and Angel,” he added suddenly, glancing at her. “We need to make our workout plans. We have to hand them in to our professor in two weeks.”
Angel’s eyes widened. “Oh, that’s right! I completely forgot. Shall we meet next week and plan it out together?”
“Yes. If you give me your number, I’ll text you.”
“Great!”
He passed her his phone, and Angel quickly typed in her number before handing it back. It felt strangely official, like signing up for something she hadn’t thought through.
“By the way, were you shopping for groceries too?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She tilted her head at his empty basket. “…With nothing in it?”
Yoonho smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“Is it okay if I join you for grocery shopping?”
Angel hesitated, but only for a second. He was friendly enough, and besides, they lived in the same apartment building. “Well… we live in the same place, anyway. Sure. Let’s go together.”
“Thanks.” His eyes lit up suddenly, almost boyish. “Oh! I saw a new cereal on the shelf over there. Can we go take a look?”
The way he asked—eyes shining like a puppy begging for a walk—made Angel stifle a laugh. He was so open, so easy to get along with.
“Really? We should take a look!” she agreed.
“Let’s go!”
And just like that, they began weaving through the supermarket, aisle after aisle, pointing things out like excited children on an adventure. A box of cookies here, a funny-shaped vegetable there, comparing brands of milk as if the fate of humanity depended on it. Angel found herself laughing more than she expected.
Later, in the quiet corridor of their apartment building, Angel shifted the grocery bags in her arms with a groan. “I’ll get the door open. Isn’t it heavy? I bought too much of this and that…”
“It wasn’t heavy at all,” Yoonho replied effortlessly, carrying his own share like it weighed nothing.
By the time Angel reached her floor, her hands were full—plastic bags hanging from both arms like weights at the gym. Yoonho had insisted on carrying the heavier ones, and despite her protests, he looked perfectly at ease, like he was carrying nothing more than a few feathers.
“Oh? It’s here!” Angel’s eyes lit up the moment she spotted a box sitting neatly in front of her door. She dropped her bags with a clatter and crouched down, hands hovering excitedly over the package.
“Ooohhh, what can it be? Sweater? Dress? Earrings?” she whispered dramatically.
Two days ago, she had gone on a late-night online shopping spree, filling her cart with “new semester essentials” that were absolutely not essential. But that didn’t matter.
“Yes!” she cheered under her breath. “Hail Saturday delivery!”
Yoonho raised a brow. “You ordered it directly to your door?”
“Huh? Yes. Then where else should I order it to?”
“The security office downstairs,” he said, calm but firm.
Angel tilted her head. “The security office? Why?”
“Umm…” He rubbed the back of his neck, his voice softening. “Because I’m worried?”
Her eyes blinked rapidly. “Worried?”
“I think it’d be safer,” he explained. “There are so many bad guys out there. Packages can get stolen, or… you know. Better to be careful.”
Angel paused, his words sinking in. He wasn’t just giving casual advice—he was genuinely concerned. Her chest warmed at the thought.
“Oh… right. There are a lot of cases like that nowadays.”
She straightened, hugging the box to her chest. Come to think of it, Yoonho had always been this way. Like the time he handed her a chocolate milk without being asked, or today, carrying her shopping without complaint. He was… such a caring person.
“Yoonho.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for telling me.”
He gave her a small smile. “Don’t mention it.”
“I’ll order everything to the security office from today. That’d be better.”
“Right.”
At her door, Angel set down the mountain of grocery bags on the porch with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll put it down here,” Yoonho said, placing his share neatly beside hers.
“Yes. Thank you so much,” Angel replied, brushing her hair back, a little embarrassed that he had done most of the work.
“I’ll text you around next week, Angel. Let’s make a plan then,” he reminded her, his voice even.
“Yes!” she nodded brightly.
“Goodbye, then.”
“Yes. Thank you again. Text me!”
With a small smile, Yoonho gave her a polite nod and headed off down the corridor. Angel closed the door behind her, her small apartment falling quiet again.
In the kitchen, Angel spread the bags out on the counter like a victorious hunter showing off her catch.
“Finally… cooking time!” she announced to no one. Her eyes glittered with mischief. “Shall I show it to Chanwoo? He’ll be so surprised. Hmm… Facetime will have more impact.”
Grinning, she tapped her screen until his name popped up.
It didn’t take long. “Angel?” Chanwoo’s face appeared, the camera bouncing as he walked.
“Chanwoo! What are you doing?”
“I’m going to the practice room,” he replied, slightly out of breath. “What’s up with FaceTime? Did you press it wrong?”
“Oh, then you’re busy, right? Should I hang up?” she asked quickly, biting her lip.
“It’s okay. I’m still on my way. Why did you call me?”
Angel puffed up her chest dramatically, turning the camera to show the counter. “Hey, guess what I’m doing now.”
“What are you doing?”
“Ta-da!” She angled the camera toward her pot. “Making pasta!”
Chanwoo’s jaw dropped. “No way… I thought you’d be eating only instant noodles and frozen foods every day.”
Angel smirked proudly, though her hands were already fumbling with the recipe steps. “I’m not who you used to know. Now I can cook a bit!”
She bragged, though in truth her confidence was thinner than the pasta noodles soaking in her sink.
Chanwoo sighed, a laugh caught in his throat. “Huh… you make me emotional. I’ll drop by next time, so you—hey, hey, HEY!!”
“Huh?” Angel blinked at the screen.
“Behind you!!!” Chanwoo’s voice cracked through the phone, frantic. “Fire! Fire!!”
“Fire?” she repeated dumbly, turning around.
“Lower the heat! It’s overflowing!”
Angel gasped. “Oh!”
The pot was boiling over violently, water spilling onto the stovetop in frothy bubbles. She had been too busy grinning at the camera to notice.
“Oh, no!” she yelped, fumbling with the knob until the flame finally shrank. Steam hissed, water dripping down the side of the stove like a disaster movie in miniature.
“Ah, it’s all over the stove…” she groaned, slapping her forehead. “It’ll take forever to clean that.”
“Are you all right!?” Chanwoo’s urgent voice blared from her phone. “Did you get hurt?”
Angel snatched it up quickly. “Oh—the call! Hey, yes, I’m fine. I lowered the heat…”
“You have to watch carefully when using fire!” Chanwoo scolded, his brow furrowed even through the shaky video. “You’ll be in danger, you fool.”
Angel pouted, glancing at the mess. “The soup overflowed…”
“You said you can cook now,” he sighed, exasperated. “Oh, dear.”
Angel puffed out her cheeks in defiance, gripping her spoon like a warrior holding a sword. “I’ll cook much better by the time you visit my home. Just you wait!”
“Yeah, right. Yes, ma’am~” Chanwoo teased, dragging out the words with exaggerated obedience.
“Hey, you—!” Angel huffed, ready to snap back, but his grin only widened.
“Ah, I got a call from my company,” he said quickly, the sound of another phone buzzing faintly in the background. “Be careful, Angel! Don’t get hurt.”
“Right! Goodbye, and practice well!” she said, waving at the screen.
“Yeah, I’ll text you later!”
The call ended with a click, leaving her small kitchen quiet except for the faint bubbling of her pot.
Angel sighed, placing her phone aside. Chanwoo… always in the practice room, except when he’s at his part-time job. Six years of training—it was no small thing. The time he had poured into chasing his dream as a K-pop idol was longer than most people could imagine.
She smiled softly to herself. He’ll be the most handsome member in any group, for sure. And with his songwriting and composing skills… he has to debut soon. He just has to.
Shaking off her thoughts, Angel turned back to her stove and gasped. “And finally!!! I made it!!! That’s my first pasta!”
She sprinkled cheese over the steaming dish with the flair of a chef on TV, then twirled some noodles around her fork and took a bite.
“…Oh.” She paused, chewing thoughtfully. “It’s a bit bland… but it’s still good. I’ll put in more salt next time. But I’m so proud of myself.”
She beamed, raising her fork like a trophy. “Good job, Angel. I made it myself—from start to end!”
Snapping a quick photo, she sent it off to her mom with a satisfied smile.
“There. And now…” She sat down at her tiny table, fork at the ready. “Time to eat!”
With a flourish, Angel gobbled down the rather bland pasta, each bite seasoned with the taste of accomplishment.
After finishing dinner and washing the dishes, Angel stretched and wandered into her bedroom. The sky outside had already gone dark, the faint glow of streetlights spilling across her curtains.
“Hmmm… I want to eat some snacks,” she mumbled, flopping onto her bed. “Shall I go to the convenience store? But I’m soooo lazy.”
She rolled onto her side, debating with herself, when—
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Angel froze. The sound was sharp, echoing from the front door.
“…What…?” she whispered, sitting up. “Is it Mom? Huh? But my parents don’t even know the password!”
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep!
The doorlock button echoed through the quiet apartment, loud and insistent.
“What the heck? Who is it?!”
Her pulse quickened. Angel tiptoed toward the door, pressing her back to the wall. The tiny viewing lens above the handle was still broken—she couldn’t see a thing outside.
“I can’t even check…” she breathed, straining her ears.
For a moment, there was silence. Then—
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!
“Why isn’t this working… @!#%$!” a muffled voice cursed from the other side.
Angel clapped a hand over her mouth. “What was that?! Who’s that…?”
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Her heart thudded like a drum. Each angry push of the button made her skin prickle. Whoever it was, they weren’t just trying once—they were desperate. Or furious.
“Phone… I need my phone…”
She dashed back into her room, nearly tripping over the rug, and snatched up her phone with trembling hands. Her contacts blurred for a second as her thumb shook, but she knew exactly who to call.
“Someone near me… near…” Her mind latched onto the name instantly. “Joowon.”
Her neighbor, living just next door.
She pressed the call button, clutching the phone to her ear.
“Please, answer… Please…” she whispered, every second stretching into eternity as the beeping at her door continued.
Despite her desperate wish, only the dial tone rang in Angel’s ear.