A Gathering of Predispositions

“Boss! Two bottles of Clear Dew! And three bottles of Tess!”

Starting with Dae-eon’s energetic shout and a raised hand, the part-timers in the pub began moving busily. Since the sun was just beginning to set, there were fortunately only a few other customers around. Oh Dong-chol moved his hands quickly across the table, arranging glasses and cutlery as he tossed out a question.

“Hey, Yoon Dae-eon. You said your high school friend is coming today too?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I mention him before? Yoon Ju-myeong.”

“Ah…… that guy?”

The moment he heard the name, Dong-chol’s face twitched into a subtle grimace. Catching the reaction instantly, Dae-eon asked tentatively, “Why? Is it uncomfortable? Should I tell him not to come?”

“No, it’s not uncomfortable, it’s just…… he’s a bit scar—”

Tinkle.

Right on cue, the bell above the door rang. At the staff’s synchronized shout of “Welcome!”, everyone except Seon Ji-ha turned to look. Stepping inside, spinning a motorcycle key around his finger, was Yoon Ju-myeong.

Ju-myeong’s slightly faded hair caught the light as he scanned the room. His eyes eventually locked onto Dae-eon, who had claimed the table furthest in the back. Ju-myeong broke into a broad smirk.

Dae-eon took a fresh look at his old friend. True to his status as a Dominant Alpha, he stood well over 180cm, and his body—hardened by years of manual labor—was imposing enough to be threatening. If it weren’t for the snaggletooth and the crinkled bridge of his nose when he smiled, he would have looked downright terrifying.

“Hey, despite how he looks, the kid is nice.”

“Don’t you know the scariest words in the world start with ‘the kid is nice, but’?” Dong-chol whispered.

“Even in school, he was the type who never touched a cigarette or a drop of alcoh—”

“Yoon Dae-eon, what are you blabbing about so excitedly?”

Ju-myeong naturally draped an arm over Dae-eon’s shoulder, leaning his upper body into the group. Among those huddled around the round table, Dong-chol was the first to give a small nod of greeting.

“Hello. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah. But we’re speaking casually, right? We’re the same age,” Ju-myeong replied.

“Ah…… sure. I’m Oh Dong-chol.”

Though taken aback by the blunt request for informal speech, Dong-chol quickly adapted. Kim Ye-jun didn’t seem particularly interested, and Jung Yoon-ki exchanged a standard greeting. The problem arose the moment the introductions ended.

“Mind moving over?”

“…….”

Ju-myeong, standing tall and looking annoyed, looked down at the spot next to Dae-eon. Seon Ji-ha was sitting there with a serene expression, as if it were his birthright. Ju-myeong lifted a foot and began rhythmically kicking the leg of Ji-ha’s round stool. Clang, clang.

Ji-ha ignored him with steadfast resolve.

Because Ji-ha usually walked with his shoulders hunched and his head down, it was often easy to forget his size, but he was a massive man over 190cm. Combined with his natural muscle, he was not a light weight. Ju-myeong’s kicking didn’t move him an inch.

Ju-myeong’s eyebrows shot up like mountain peaks. It was the “prey” animals at the table—Dong-chol and Yoon-ki—who started looking nervous.

“Senior, should we slide over a bit?”

“……I don’t want to.”

“No, I mean, even if you don’t want to…… he needs a place to sit.”

Jung Yoon-ki, who was sitting on Ji-ha’s other side, suggested tentatively while pulling his own chair toward Ye-jun. However, Ji-ha didn’t even glance at the space Yoon-ki cleared. This was fundamentally different from when Dae-eon made a suggestion; with anyone else, Ji-ha was a wall of “No.”

Meanwhile, Dae-eon, who was busy demolishing a bowl of complimentary puffed rice snacks, spoke up in an indifferent voice.

“Hey, go sit next to Kim Ye-jun. Why are you acting out over here?”

“Yoon Dae-eon, are you seriously this socially blind, you f***?”

“Blind? What? Are you shy? Will you die of embarrassment if you aren’t right next to me?”

“Argh!”

Ju-myeong thumping his chest in frustration. Unable to watch any longer, Kim Ye-jun grabbed the back of Dong-chol’s chair and yanked it toward himself. This finally created a gap between Dong-chol and Dae-eon.

“Yelp! Hey! Give a guy a warning before you pull, you scared me!”

“He says he wants to sit next to his friend. Just yield a bit,” Ye-jun muttered.

“Ugh, you could have just asked!”

Dong-chol grumbled as he adjusted his new position. Seeing the opening, Ju-myeong didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a chair from a neighboring table and slammed it down in the gap.

“Takes a lot of damn work just to get a seat.”

“Then you should have just sat in any open spot.”

“If I was gonna do that, why the f*** would I come here?”

Grumbling, Ju-myeong naturally pulled the set of glasses in front of Dae-eon toward himself. The pair of glasses—one for beer, one for soju—was now split: a soju glass for Ju-myeong and a beer glass for Dae-eon. This was the first moment Seon Ji-ha’s temper began to fray.

Just then, the Clear Dew and Tess arrived. The snacks hadn’t come yet, but nobody cared. Dae-eon excitedly popped the cap of a beer bottle.

“Beer for Dong-chol. Somaek for Ye-jun. Soju for Ju-myeong……!”

Having drunk with them frequently, Dae-eon knew his friends’ preferences by heart and began pouring accordingly. Then he reached Jung Yoon-ki. Realizing this was his first real time drinking with him, Dae-eon blinked.

“What about Yoon-ki? What do you want?”

“Ah, I’ll have……”

“Why is it only ‘Yoon-ki’ for him?”

Ju-myeong asked suddenly, squinting one eye. Dae-eon, holding a bottle in each hand, looked at Ju-myeong as if to ask what his problem was now.

“What now? His name is Yoon-ki, what else am I supposed to call him?”

“You’ve always been like that. Whenever there’s a guy you want to flirt with, you start doing that cringey first-name-basis sh*t.”

“Good grief, Ju-myeong is talking nonsense again. He’s not even drunk, so what’s his excuse?”

Dae-eon delivered a sharp flick to the top of Ju-myeong’s head before turning back to Yoon-ki. Yoon-ki was holding his beer glass with an awkward expression.

“Make me a somaek, Dae-eon.”

“Somaek? Really? You look like you’d only drink beer. Like Dong-chol.”

“Does Dong-chol not drink well?” Yoon-ki asked.

“Nope. Hey, Ye-jun. You monitor Dong-chol’s intake. If he turns into a dog again today, we’re leaving him behind.”

Ye-jun, who was already downing his first somaek in one go, gave a silent ‘OK’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. Dong-chol muttered that he knew how to restrain himself, but neither Dae-eon nor Ye-jun looked like they believed him. Watching them, Yoon-ki smiled.

“Dae-eon, you’re a real ‘In-ssa’ (insider/socialite), aren’t you?”

“Me? No way. I’m a total ‘A-ssa’ (outsider/loner).”

“You…… that’s seriously a mental illness at this point,” Ju-myeong muttered.

“If Yoon Dae-eon isn’t an In-ssa, then who is?” Ye-jun chimed in.

“I bet he has more college friends than I have PC cafe friends,” Ju-myeong added.

At Yoon-ki’s remark, everyone seemed to jump in at once to debunk Dae-eon’s self-perception. Dae-eon alone scratched his head, stubbornly defending his “Loner Theory.”

In the middle of the boisterousness, Yoon-ki leaned over and tossed a question to Seon Ji-ha.

“What about you, Senior? From your perspective as a fellow A-ssa, Dae-eon seems like an In-ssa, right?”

“……Ah……”

Ji-ha, who had been sitting quietly clutching the water glass Dae-eon had filled for him, slowly lifted his eyes. Everyone was looking at him. Even Dae-eon.

Opening his mouth with his characteristic slowness, Ji-ha spoke:

“I wish…… he were an A-ssa……”

“Bwahaha! Yoon Dae-eon? Crazy. Look, mister, that will never happen to this guy in a million years!”

Ju-myeong burst into laughter the moment Ji-ha finished. He slammed the metal table so hard the spoons rattled. Ju-myeong wiped a tear from his eye as if he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world.

“Do you know how many confessions this punk got in high school? Among them, the mos—”

“Ju-myeong, that’s enough.”

“Got it.”

The moment Dae-eon’s expression went cold, Ju-myeong shut his mouth instantly. The atmosphere dipped for a second, but fortunately, the server arrived with the food, allowing the tension to dissipate as everyone focused on the appetizers.

That was when Dong-chol asked softly:

“By the way, how did you two become friends?”

Ju-myeong, who was casually lifting his glass, paused. It was Dae-eon who answered.

“Ah, when my parents passed away, he came to the funeral hall.”

“Eh? You became friends then?”

“Yeah. I was the Vice President of the class back then, so almost everyone came.”

“Bullsh*t. They didn’t come because you were Vice President; they came because you’re such a busybody that you’re involved in everyone’s business,” Ju-myeong muttered.

Dae-eon chuckled, letting the comment slide, and continued. “But I really didn’t expect Ju-myeong to show up.”

“Why?”

“He was the type who barely ever showed up to school. So I wondered why he’d come all the way to my parents’ funeral.”

“Oh…… so why did you go?” Dong-chol asked Ju-myeong.

Ju-myeong reached out and grabbed a puffed rice snack. Crunch. He pulverized it, crumbs flying from his mouth. He looked at them as if they were asking the most obvious question in the world.

“I went for the boiled pork, f***.”