As he poured for Joowon, the guy tilted his head slightly, stealing a glance at Angel. His expression was unreadable, but his timing wasn’t an accident.
“Oh,” Joowon said suddenly, “I saw our professor in the corridor earlier.”
Geunsoo froze. “Huh? Our professor’s here?”
“Yes. He said he’ll just say hello and leave in a minute,” Joowon replied evenly.
Geunsoo scoffed, his words slurring. “He said he doesn’t want to interrupt us and spoil the fun.”
“Oh, we must go and say hello!” Heechul exclaimed, wobbling to his feet.
The two seniors, their faces flushed with alcohol, staggered away together, leaving the bottles and glasses behind.
Angel sat frozen, her hands cupped tightly around her glass. Joowon leaned slightly toward her, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
“Go in quickly and sleep.”
Angel blinked. “Huh…? What?”
“That’s the room where all the drunk people are sleeping,” he explained quietly. “Go there and sleep.”
“But… what if they come back and look for me?”
“Those two won’t even remember you,” Joowon said flatly. “They’re completely drunk. If you stay here like this, they’ll come for you again.”
The realization struck her immediately. “Oh!”
Without hesitation, Angel pushed back her chair and stood. Before slipping away, she glanced back at Joowon—he was already reaching for a bottle, as if nothing had happened, calmly blending back into the noisy atmosphere.
“Thank you so much…!” she whispered, her voice trembling with relief.
What a nice guy. That was Angel’s first impression of Joowon. A quiet, dependable presence—someone who, with just a few words, had pulled her out of a nightmare.
But what she heard about him after that day… was completely different from the impression she held in her heart.
At Campus.
Jiyoon tugged at Angel’s sleeve as they walked toward class. “You’re going to class, right? Why two drinks? Is that one for me?”
“Nope. It’s for Joowon,” Angel admitted softly.
Jiyoon stopped mid-step, staring. “Why would you buy a drink for that guy? …Angel, don’t tell me—you have a crush on him?”
Angel’s eyes widened. “It’s not like that! He helped me at the orientation party. I was literally about to puke, then.”
Jiyoon folded her arms. “But he’s really scary. What was his nickname again…? I think it was Crazy Dog.”
Angel froze. “Huh? What’s wrong with him?”
“I heard he beat up his senior in our college last year.”
“Beat up?!” Angel blurted. “Then… when he was in his second year?”
“Yes,” Jiyoon said, lowering her voice. “The guy’s name was Giho Song. Anyway, we don’t really know him—he took a year off.”
Angel blinked in disbelief. “Geez… but why would he beat up a person?”
Jiyoon sighed, leaning closer. “It was because Joowon’s ex-girlfriend had an affair with Giho Song. Joowon caught them, and he beat him up at a party. I heard it was a total mess.”
Angel bit her lip, unsettled. “Geez… Umm… Of course, anyone would be angry if their girlfriend cheated, but… beating someone up is another thing. Well… I think he’s scary.”
Her eyes drifted down to the can of soft drink in her hand. For a long moment, she just stared at it. Then, quietly, she pressed it into Jiyoon’s palm.
“Jiyoon, take this.”
Jiyoon blinked. “Hmm? You said you were gonna give it to that guy.”
“…No.” Angel’s voice was faint, conflicted. “I’ll give him another time.”
The rumor had wormed its way into her chest, planting unease where gratitude had once been. And because of that, Angel couldn’t thank him—not then.
But rumors don’t stay in whispers forever. And some time after, at a noisy pub gathering, she heard Joowon’s name come up again.
At the pub.
“Giho took a year off…” a student muttered between drinks. “I heard he’s preparing to transfer to another college—because Eunji transferred there.”
“Geeez. Shame on him,” one of the students scoffed.
Angel blinked. Giho? That guy who fought with Joowon?
She tilted her head slightly, pretending not to listen while her ears strained toward the next table.
“...It’s okay. Don’t talk about them,” came a low, calm voice.
Angel’s breath caught. Joowon.
“But those guys hanging out with Giho spread a weird rumor and made you look like a jerk!” one student insisted.
“That’s right. It was his fault! How could he call you a crazy dog?” another chimed in, indignation in his tone.
“You even heard some freshmen talking about you behind your back,” added the first.
Angel leaned in just a fraction. The way they spoke—it wasn’t just gossip. It was defending him.
Joowon, however, only sighed. “Never mind. I don’t want to waste my time explaining all that. Cut it.”
“Phew, you sweet thing,” his friend muttered, as if impressed with his restraint.
Each time the topic came up, Joowon shut it down without another word. No explanations. No protests. And because no one ever said more than fragments, Angel was left with little to piece together. Slowly, almost without realizing it, she began to believe the rumors. To her, Joowon became that 'scary person' everyone whispered about.
And even now, sitting there in the pub, she realized—she still didn’t know anything about him. Not really. Just his name. Just fragments. Just shadows.
Maybe he always changes the subject because… he’s got something to hide too. But… he doesn’t look like a bad person. Angel hugged her bag tighter against her chest. Anyway, next time… she'll grab something and go apologize to him again.
Shaking the thoughts away, she hurried back home.
At the front door of her apartment, Angel paused, the key in her hand. She turned the knob and slowly stepped inside, her eyes sweeping over the quiet interior.
“Wow…” she whispered, half in disbelief. “I’m really living here now… alone. Cooking for myself! Cleaning the house on my own! And I’ll invite my friends over! Then—party all night!”
Angel’s heart fluttered with the sweet taste of freedom for the first time in her life. But then her eyes swept around the room.
“…It’s… quite messy.”
She let out a guilty laugh, hands on her hips.
“I’ll need to clean it up before my parents come.”
Gathering armfuls of clothes, she shoved the pile into one corner, then grabbed the vacuum cleaner with determination.
“Right. I’ll clean the floor, go to the convenience store to buy some juice, then—”
Ding-dong.
Her head jerked toward the door.
“Huh? Are they already here?”
She tiptoed quickly and pressed her eye to the lens—only to frown.
“…I can’t see anything. How useless.”
The glass was too blurry. All she could make out was a vague shape.
“Well, can’t help it.” She straightened and called out, “Who is it?”
A clear voice answered, loud enough to cut through the door.
“Good afternoon. I live downstairs.”
“Downstairs?” Angel blinked. Slowly, she unlatched the door and peeked out.
“Hello,” said the tall, broad-shouldered man waiting politely in the hallway.
“Oh…!” Angel’s mouth fell open.
It was him. One of the witnesses of her humiliation last night.
“You must be the one who took me home yesterday… right?” she asked as she stepped hesitantly outside.
“Yes. We met yesterday. Hi.”
The bulky guy smiled, his friendliness making her cheeks grow warm.
“Good afternoon…” she murmured back, awkwardly lowering her eyes.
The moment their gazes met, the memory of yesterday slammed into her—the stumble, the slurred words, the shame. Her stomach twisted.
Right then, she had only one wish: Please let the ground open up and swallow her.
Maybe… maybe he was here to bring it up. To tease her. To remind her of that awful scene.
She bowed her head quickly. “Look, I’m really sorry for what I did yesterday… I’ve got no excuses to offer…”
“What the heck did I even do to a stranger yesterday…?” Angel muttered under her breath, her nerves twisting.
But instead of looking annoyed, the man’s expression softened.
“No, it’s fine! How are you now? Are you feeling better?” Yoonho asked, his voice carrying genuine concern.
Angel blinked, startled. That wasn’t what she expected at all. “Oh, yes… thanks to you.”
“That’s good.”
She hesitated, fiddling with her fingers. “I heard that you took me home yesterday. Thank you very, very much.”
“It’s okay. It’s nothing, really.” Then, almost as if remembering, he lifted the dish in his hands. “Ah—here. Have some of these.”
Angel glanced down. “Rice cake?”
“Yes,” Yoonho replied with a grin. “I moved into Room 202 two days ago. Nice to meet you.”
“Oh!” Angel’s eyes widened. Immediately, Chanwoo’s words popped into her head—someone in the building was giving out rice cakes to the neighbors. So it was him!
“Thank you so much,” she said quickly, bowing slightly.
“Yes. And this, too.”
Before she could process it, Yoonho held out a carton of chocolate milk. Caught in the rush of the moment, Angel accepted it without thinking.
“You… brought this for me?”
“Your stomach might be churning,” Yoonho explained casually. “I always drink chocolate milk after drinking alcohol.”
Angel’s mind spun. We only met yesterday… and he’s still worried about her?
“That will relieve the hangover,” Yoonho added, his smile so bright and innocent that Angel felt her tense shoulders finally drop.
“Thank you so much… I really appreciate it,” she murmured, clutching the chocolate milk like it was a lifeline.
“You’re welcome.”
“You said you moved in two days ago. I moved in only yesterday,” Angel offered, trying to keep the conversation steady.
“I know. You told me yesterday.”
Angel froze. “…D-Did I?”
“Yes,” he said, his grin widening.
“Gosh, I can’t keep my mouth shut!” Angel buried her face in her hands, wishing she could melt into the floor.
Yoonho tilted his head. “Do you perhaps remember my name?”
“Y-Your name…?” Angel blinked, her mind turning blank.
He chuckled softly, clearly amused at her panic. “I introduced myself yesterday, and in detail.”
“I think I can… remember…” she stammered, trying desperately to piece together the foggy memory.
“It’s okay,” he said, shaking his head. “I can tell you again. I’m Yoonho Lee, and I go to Daehan University.”
Angel’s inner voice practically screamed: Yoonho Lee. The guy downstairs. M Apartment, Block 206, Room 202. Daehan University. Security Studies major. Wide shoulders that every girl and guy dreams of.
“Oh, we go to the same university! I go to Daehan, too.”
“Really?” His eyes lit up. “I major in Security Studies. It’s my first year.”
“Oh, you’re a freshman. I’m in my second year, Advertising and Public Relations,” Angel said carefully, still clutching the milk.
“Ah, you must be one year older than me,” Yoonho replied brightly.
“Shh… don’t mention it.” She pressed a finger to her lips, half-joking, half-serious.
“All right!” he answered with an easy grin. He seemed like the type who could get along with anyone.
“If we go to the same college, I guess we’ll see more of each other,” he added.
Angel shifted, guilt tugging at her. “I’ll treat you to lunch or dinner on campus soon. I’m really sorry about yesterday.”
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said warmly, then grinned. “But I’m in for the meal.”
“Yes,” Angel nodded quickly. “Let’s eat together when the semester starts.”
“Then I’ll say goodbye for now. I still have to give rice cakes to the other neighbors.”
“Yes. And… thank you for the rice cake,” Angel said sincerely.
“You’re welcome. And by the way…” Yoonho paused, tilting his head. “I still don’t know your name.”
“Oh!” Angel’s eyes widened. “It’s Angel.”
“Okay,” he said simply, with a smile that lingered even as he stepped back into the hallway.
Yoonho nodded at Angel with that radiant smile again, before turning and heading down the hallway.
Angel watched his back for a moment, the corner of her lips curling upward.
“I never knew a big guy could be so cute,” she whispered to herself.
Closing the door, she leaned against it briefly. It was only their second meeting, but somehow, she already felt a strange sense of comfort around him. That smile of his—so open, so bright—was still etched in her mind.
“His name was Yoonho, right? Yoonho Lee…” she murmured, trying the name on her tongue.
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang again.
“Huh? Is it Yoonho? Why is he here again?” Angel muttered, her heart jumping just a little. She hurried to open the door, not even stopping to peek through the lens.
But when the door swung open—
“…Who are you?”
Angel’s voice caught in her throat.
It wasn’t Yoonho. Standing there was a stranger—his expression unreadable, his presence unfamiliar.
“Huh? It’s not Yoonho. Who’s this…?”
Angel blinked. The man standing there wasn’t the bulky, sunshine-smiling neighbor she’d just met.
Instead—tall, sharp-featured, with the kind of aura that made him look like he’d walked straight out of a fashion magazine.
“Oooh…” Angel’s thoughts ran away before she could stop them. He looks like a model. He’s so tall… And that charisma… Well, he looks a bit sharp, but— in a nutshell—he’s hot.
The man’s brows furrowed slightly.
“You should check who it is before opening the door.”
“What?” Angel asked, startled.
“Why do you say ‘Who are you?’ only after opening the door?” His voice was low, clipped, but oddly calm. “You never know who might be standing in front of your house.”
“The lens on the door doesn’t work, anyway,” Angel mumbled.
“Ah, it must be blurry, isn’t it?” he replied matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me…?”
But he didn’t wait for her answer—he kept speaking, like he already knew.
“The front door lens… I’ll get it changed soon. It’s dangerous if you cannot see outside. And the reason I came today—”
Angel couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“...Who are you?” she blurted.
A beat of silence.
“…You don’t remember anything from yesterday, do you?” the man said at last, his eyes narrowing just a fraction.
“Yesterday?”
“This is not the first time seeing each other.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was genuine surprise flickering behind his cool expression.
Angel froze. Was he… there? At that moment of disaster, too? She tried to recall the fragmented blur of last night—the stinging palms, the faces leaning over her.
Suddenly, his voice from that memory replayed in her head—sharp and annoyed:
‘Who’s that? What’s all this noise? Who are you, and why are you making a fuss in front of my house?’
Angel’s stomach dropped.
“Ah… THAT guy…!”
Heat rushed up to her ears. She wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
“Cough I’m sorry. I just remembered,” she muttered, avoiding his piercing gaze.
“…So, you do remember now?” he asked, his tone cool as ever.
Angel didn’t recognize him at first—his hair was down, changing his whole look.
“I’m so sorry for making a scene yesterday…” she said sheepishly.
“Yes, you should be sorry. You raised hell in front of my house.” His sarcastic tone made her bristle, but what could she say? He wasn’t wrong.
“Anyway,” Heejae continued coolly, “I didn’t come to talk about that. I’m here for a reason—”
“…Pardon?”
“There are rules you must follow when you live in this apartment.”
Angel blinked. Rules? And why was he the one telling her this?
“But why do YOU have to tell me that, mister—?”
“Number one,” Heejae cut her off without hesitation, “garbage is taken out every Wednesday. And please remember to recycle. Number two, always lock the door, and be careful with fire. And last but not least—number three.”
His gaze sharpened as he leaned forward slightly, emphasizing each word.
“For every resident’s well-being, please remember that after 9 p.m.… excessive noise is strictly prohibited.”
He held her eyes for a moment longer, as if to remind her of the chaos she caused the night before. Then, straightening, he said flatly:
“That’s all.”
Angel stared, bewildered. Why she hearing all this from him? He’s acting like he owns the place or something!
“…I have a question.”
Heejae raised a brow. “What is it?”
“So… why are you telling me all this?”
Unfazed, he replied with a calmness that sent Angel’s thoughts into a tailspin.
“Because I’m the landlord of this apartment.”
“Oh, I see…” Angel nodded automatically, still not processing it—then froze. “Wait, no! What?! The landlord?!”
Heejae Han. The Loft Guy. M Apartment, Block 206.
Daehan University. Business Administration.
The Landlord.
Angel gawked at him. He looked only two or three years older than her, yet here he was, claiming ownership of the building.
“I heard the landlord was supposed to be a middle-aged man…” she muttered in disbelief.
“That’s what my dad told me after he signed the contract for me…” Angel muttered.
Heejae gave a short nod. “Ah. That must’ve been my father. I’m taking care of the building for now.”
Angel blinked. “So you… live here?”
“Yes. At the loft.”
“The loft? Why not in a proper room?” she asked before realizing how nosy it sounded. Strange choice… but she bit her tongue before pressing further.
“Anyway,” Heejae went on smoothly, “I manage this building, so save my number. If you need something fixed, feel free to contact me.”
He handed her a small memo with his name and phone number scrawled across it.
“Heejae Han…” Angel read under her breath. Is he really the landlord…?
“And since you just moved in yesterday,” Heejae added casually, “I’ll let the housebreaking attempt pass.”
“H-H-Housebreaking attempt?!” Angel nearly choked on her own breath.
“That’s right. Or what else can it be called?” His tone was merciless.
And then—just to twist the knife—he smiled at her.
Angel gaped. “I know I was a troublemaker yesterday, but… Housebreaking attempt?! Who even says that—”
“Angel!”
Her heart dropped. She whipped her head around to see her parents standing at the end of the corridor.
“Oh, dear.”
No, no, no, no…! If her parents heard anything about housebreaking or incidents, her college life—not to mention living alone—would be over before it began.
Angel spun back to Heejae, leaning in close, whispering with the most desperate look she could muster.
“Excuse me…! I am very, very sorry for what I did yesterday, and I swear it will never, ever happen again. I’ll follow those three rules you told me—every single one of them! So please—please—don’t tell my parents about what happened!!”
Her hands clenched nervously at her sides as she begged.
“Please… do me this one favor!”
“…Okay. I won’t tell,” Heejae finally said, lips curling just slightly.
Before Angel could sigh in relief, her mother came striding toward them.
“What’s the matter? Who’s this?” Mom asked, eyeing the tall stranger.
“Oh, it’s—” Angel stammered.
But Heejae smoothly stepped in. “Good afternoon. I’m Heejae Han, and I take care of this building. I came to explain the house rules to our new resident.”
Angel blinked. What’s with his tone? The nasty guy who’d just been teasing her had suddenly transformed into a polite, well-spoken gentleman.
Dad furrowed his brow. “That’s strange. When I came to sign the contract, the owner was a man my age.”
“Ah, that’s my father,” Heejae replied with ease. “I’m authorized to take care of this building now.”
“Oh, is that so? So your father owns this building?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Heejae answered calmly.
“Then you live here and manage it as well?”
“Yes. I’m at the loft.”
“Hmm…” Mom studied his face carefully, her expression unreadable.
Angel, on the other hand, was fidgeting like crazy. “Well, you told me everything, right? Please, you can go now!” she cut in quickly.
“Yes…” Heejae gave her a knowing glance.
Angel knew she had to get her parents inside before this went any further. “Mom, let’s go in. Dad, you too!” she urged, practically pushing them toward the door.
“Why are you in such a hurry?” Mom asked suspiciously.
And then—of course—Heejae had to open his mouth again.
“Then, I’ll get going,” he said smoothly. “And please be careful of housebreaking attempts. They’ve been increasing in number lately.”
“…Housebreaking?” Mom repeated sharply.
The man gave her the sweetest smile, then strode off, his long legs carrying him away with infuriating grace.
At the door, Mom turned back to Angel, her eyes narrowing. “What? Housebreaking?”
“Haha… There are always robbers around every college,” Angel said quickly, waving her hands. “He’s just saying it so I’ll lock my door properly.”
“Are you sure this area is safe?” Mom pressed, her voice sharp with concern. “Why don’t you just come back and go to school from home?”
Angel’s shoulders slumped. “How can you say that as soon as you come here?”
“Right, honey,” Dad added softly, trying to calm her down.
But Mom was relentless. “Remember to check the door lock, okay? You’re so clumsy… Like yesterday. You lost your phone and wouldn’t even contact me.”
Angel lowered her head. “I’m sorry about that…” She’d already been nagged about it on the phone earlier, but apparently once wasn’t enough.
In the living room, Mom continued her inspection, poking around as if she were searching for hidden flaws.
“By the way,” she muttered, “the house owner is too young.”
“Yes,” Dad agreed mildly, “but he looked like a decent young man.”
“He’s just around Angel’s age. I don’t think he’ll be able to take care of this building.”
Angel noticed the faint crease of anger forming between her mother’s brows. Her heart sank. What if her mom asks her to move back home? Panic began to rise, and before Angel could stop herself, she jumped to defend Heejae.
“I think he’s quite adept,” she said quickly. “He told me he’ll even change the door lens for me later.”
“That’s not the problem,” Mom snapped. “Phew. If I knew the owner was a young fellow, I would’ve—” She stopped herself mid-sentence.
Angel’s eyes widened. What about it?
Mom shook her head. “…Never mind.”
But Angel knew exactly where her mother’s thoughts had gone. No way… She’s worrying about me and that guy? Her mom’s mind worked like a mind map — one thought branching into ten, each one more far-fetched than the last. And because of that endless worrying, Angel hadn’t been able to date anyone for more than three months.
“What if he intrudes,” Mom said suddenly, “just because he’s the landlord?”
Angel nearly choked. “Aww, please! You cannot be serious. Nothing like that will happen!”
Still, her nerves betrayed her — she quickly slipped the memo Heejae had given her behind her back, as if it were a guilty secret. Why angel even hiding that? She didn’t do anything wrong…
Mom folded her arms. “I let you live alone so that you can focus on your studies. You know that, right? If you ever get one grade below A, you’re immediately coming back home.”
Angel clenched her fists behind her back, trying not to snap. Her mother’s voice went on and on, every word like a drop of water tapping against stone. Slowly, anger began to boil inside her chest.
Ha… Calm down, Angel. Calm down, she told herself. If she dared talk back, Mom would tell her to pack up immediately and move home. The only escape was a subject change.
“Mom,” Angel said carefully, “by the way, I’m hungry…”
“You said you had lunch with Chanwoo.”
“You know I eat a lot…” Angel drooped her eyes, giving her mom a pitiful glance.
“Oh, dear,” Mom sighed, and finally, her expression softened. She pointed to a paper bag she’d set on the table. “I brought some bread from your favorite bakery. You can eat some now. Let’s have a snack after we clean up the kitchen.”
“Huh? I already cleaned the kitchen,” Angel replied.
“No, you haven’t. You just stacked everything on the shelf.”
“I’ll tidy it later. Can we just go out to buy some household items? Like slippers and a rug. I want to do that while you’re here. Let’s go shopping, and you can drive me home. Please?”
Dad, ever her ally, nodded. “Right. Angel can arrange her things later. Let’s go shopping now.”
“Yes! Let’s go… Please,” Angel said, layering on her killer move — the wide-eyed puppy face.
Mom pressed her lips together, clearly torn. “I just came here half an hour ago…”
But with Dad on Angel’s side, her resistance melted away. At last, Mom relented, and the three of them headed out together.
After shopping, her parents drove her back home.