Café Chemistry

Back in Seoul, things should've gone back to normal.

But they didn't.

Because normal didn't include waking up to texts from your fake boyfriend with good morning selfies and reminders to "rehearse your story beats."

Normal didn't include wearing a fake ring to your shift at work.

And it definitely didn't include Kim Minseo showing up at your café… just to hang out.

Mina stared at him across the counter like he'd grown a third eye.

"You don't have to be here, you know."

Minseo leaned on the glass pastry case, smiling like he was the main attraction. "You said you wanted more chemistry-building."

"I meant like… texting. You don't have to physically invade my workplace."

"I brought croissants."

Mina blinked. "You brought our croissants."

"Our origin croissants," he said proudly. "For authenticity."

"Don't make that a thing."

"I'm absolutely making it a thing."

Hana popped her head in from the back and grinned. "He's cute. I approve."

"Don't encourage him," Mina grumbled, steaming milk a little too aggressively.

"Too late!" Hana called.

Minseo sat at the window seat like he owned it, sipping his latte and waving at confused regulars. Mina tried not to look—but she kept looking. His coat was slung over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up, and he somehow made sipping coffee look like an audition for a soft-boy perfume ad.

"I thought you were busy today," she finally said, bringing over his second coffee. "You have a job, right?"

"I do," he said. "But today's client rescheduled. And I figured—why not spend time with my favorite fiancée?"

"Don't say that in public," she hissed.

"You're wearing the ring," he said, pointing to her hand.

She scowled and shoved it into her apron pocket.

He grinned. "You're cute when you panic."

"You keep saying that like it's not deeply annoying."

"It's not," he said simply.

The bell above the door jingled, and in walked two elderly women from the neighborhood. They spotted Mina and lit up.

"Ohhh, is that your boyfriend?" one asked, eyes twinkling. "The one from the wedding photos?"

Mina froze.

Minseo, unbothered, stood and bowed. "Annyeonghaseyo. I'm Minseo. It's a pleasure."

The ladies giggled like schoolgirls. "He's even better in person!"

Mina wanted to melt into the floor.

After they left, she rounded on him. "You're so good at this."

"It's literally my job."

"No, I mean—like… weirdly good. Effortless. Convincing. It's kind of disturbing."

He leaned in, voice quiet. "Do you want it to stop feeling real?"

She faltered.

Because she didn't have an answer.

He stared at her, unreadable for once. "I can back off. Just say the word."

And for some reason, that made her feel worse.

"No," she said. "It's fine. We… need the practice. Grandma's birthday, right?"

"Right," he echoed. But he didn't smile this time.

Later that day, as Mina was wiping down tables after closing, she glanced out the window.

Minseo was still there.

Alone. Headphones in. Scrolling his phone with a quiet expression she didn't recognize. Not polished. Not "on."

Just… Minseo.

Something tugged at her chest again.

She hated it.

She also didn't move.