A middle-aged woman in a deep purple satin dress and a pearl necklace the size of marbles stood rigid, her expression sharp and commanding—like a true chaebol madame straight out of a K-drama.
Naima instantly whispered to Johann, "Oh my God, that's her! The villain! The male lead's mother!"
Johann glanced lazily. "You're kidding me, right?"
But Naima couldn't stop staring. The scene was identical to the drama—even the table placements were the same.
"I told you not to see that girl again!" the woman barked in rapid Korean, her tone slicing through the air. Sooah lowered her head, trying to calm things down.
Jaeho looked at his mother, his voice firm yet gentle. "Eomeoni, I love her."
The entire restaurant froze. Every diner stopped eating. Even the background music seemed to hold its breath.
Naima clutched Johann's hand tight. "This is it! This is the wine scene!" she whispered, trembling with excitement.
And just as she remembered, the mother snatched up the full glass of red wine and—splash!—poured it all over Sooah's face.
The dark crimson liquid slid down Sooah's cheek, staining her soft white dress. She stood there, lips trembling, eyes locked on Jaeho.
Naima covered her mouth, nearly squealing. "Oh my God! It's exactly the same! The angle, the tone, the acting—copy-paste from the drama!"
Johann stared, amused, bewildered. "Naima, people are fighting and you're… fangirling?"
Naima snickered softly. "Not fangirling—this is academic observation of cinematic reality!"
Johann shook his head. "Next time remind me never to take you to fine dining anywhere near a filming location."
"Her acting is awesome!" Naima clapped her hands lightly, nearly forgetting they were in a five-star restaurant and not a theater.
Johann froze mid-bite, staring at her flatly—his face spelling one word: jealous.
Naima caught the look. "Oops…"
Then she leaned forward, grabbed a piece of beef bourguignon, and fed him with a sweet, apologetic smile. "I'll keep silent, bunny."
Johann looked at her for a long beat before opening his mouth and taking the bite. After chewing, he leaned closer, voice low and teasing.
"Good girl."
Naima blushed. "You sound like I'm your pet cat."
Johann smirked. "Better than you acting like an overexcited fangirl in a scandal scene."
Naima pouted. "Excuse me, that was historical! You just witnessed one of the most iconic K-drama moments—live!"
Johann sighed, fighting a laugh. "You're impossible."
"Yet you married me," Naima shot back, winking.
They continued their meal as if nothing dramatic had happened.
Naima leaned back, eyeing her half-finished dessert. "Anticlimactic," she thought. "I already know the next scene… even the ending."
Johann set down his fork, smiling mysteriously.
"So, where do you want me to take you after this?"
Then quickly added, "No clubbing, please."
Naima's eyes went wide. "Excuse me?"
Johann sipped his water innocently. "They don't let minors in."
"MINOR?!" she nearly choked on air. "I have a degree, mister! I was working before you even existed in my dream!"
Johann chuckled. "Tell that to your baby face. When we walk together, people think I kidnapped a high schooler."
Naima crossed her arms. "So you expect me to say, 'Oppa, buy me soju,' or something?"
Johann deadpanned. "No. You'd probably say, 'Bunny, buy me Indomie rendang flavor.'"
Naima froze for two seconds before bursting into laughter so loud nearby diners turned.
"Okay fine," she said between giggles, "but seriously, do I look like a kid to you?"
Johann shrugged. "I'm just saying—if we go out, I'm bringing your ID. I don't want to get arrested."
Naima glared. "Ugh. Then I'll wear the most mature dress I own."
"Good," Johann grinned. "Just… don't pair it with that cute bunny hairpin again."
Naima groaned. "Unbelievable. This man can't decide whether he's romantic or just plain annoying!"
—
Evening in Hongdae was alive with neon lights and the smell of spicy tteokbokki.
Two young men stood by an odeng stall, sipping soju from plastic cups—Minjae and Hyunbin.
"Remember that shaman," Minjae said, poking his odeng with a wooden stick, "the one who told us we'd meet someone who knows our future?"
Hyunbin blinked, recalling. "The one in that old palace? The reason we got lost for two hours following GPS?"
Minjae laughed. "Yeah, that one! Well… I think I met her this morning."
"Oh yeah? Where? What's she like? An ahjussi? Ahjumma?"
"At my café. Totally fits the shaman's description. Simple clothes, but her bag's foreign brand—not cheap, not too flashy. Shoes too—neat, not Seoul-fashionista level."
Hyunbin took a sip of soju. "And?"
"At first I didn't believe she was a seer. Turns out she's a tourist. Her husband's an expat. She looks like a high-schooler—but she's married!"
"Whoa…" Hyunbin murmured, eyes distant.
"Funny coincidence. Someone like that came to my café too. Looked like a high-schooler. Name's Naima. Thought her last name was 'Na,' but she's a foreigner. Jaeho said she's wearing a ring—maybe engaged or married."
Minjae gave him a teasing grin. "I know that tone, Hyunbin. You like her, don't you?"
Hyunbin only smiled faintly, neither denying nor confirming.
"So, what about your 'seer'?"
"Her name…" Minjae paused, thinking. "Naima Treublut."
Hyunbin nearly choked. "What?! Naima?"
Before they could process it, a familiar voice chimed in behind them.
"Wait—you guys are talking about Naima? You know her too?"
They turned. "Jiwoo!" both exclaimed.
Jiwoo joined them, setting down his soju cup. "I met her too, by the Han River. Said she was just out for a walk. But…" He pulled out his phone and opened Naima's K-Talk profile. "Look. Seems like she's married."
The three men exchanged looks, silent for a few beats.
Then Minjae spoke quietly, "Three guys, one girl… Naima. Starting to feel like fate's messing with us."
Hyunbin stared up at the violet-gold Hongdae sky.
"I don't know why, but it feels like destiny's playing games again."
Minjae downed his soju, glancing between the two. "So how do you even know she's 'the seer'?"
He chuckled. "She knew my manager, Mr. Park, has a 17-year-old son—and said that boy would take over my café one day. Only the two of us know that!"
Jiwoo raised an eyebrow. "Probably just coincidence, Minjae. I doubt she's a real fortune-teller. Heck, I'm not even sure she's actually married at that age."
Hyunbin smirked. "I don't care if she's a fortune-teller or not… I just hope she's single."
Minjae laughed so hard his soju almost spilled. "I know her husband, that foreigner! Used to come to my café every morning, but ever since his wife arrived in Seoul, he's stopped showing up. Said his wife makes him the world's rarest coffee—Kopi Musang!"
"Wait—Kopi Musang? The super expensive one?" Jiwoo chuckled.
Hyunbin clapped Minjae's shoulder. "That's love, bro. No man gives up his favorite café just because his wife makes coffee—unless he's madly in love."
The three men burst into laughter, imagining the mysterious Naima smiling in photos with her foreign husband—sweet, radiant, and full of secrets.