1. Liar
It had already been three years since Yuhyeon started working part-time as a server at Glock, a room bar.
Glock was an upscale establishment that didn’t carry cheap liquor, so most of the clientele were people with money to spare. Perhaps because of that, the rules were strict and there was a lot to memorize from the start, so he made mistakes often in the beginning.
But Yuhyeon’s timid, sulky phase didn’t last long. He quickly grew fluent in formal speech, and as the saying goes — even a dog that sits in a schoolyard for three years will learn to recite poetry — before long he’d gotten comfortable enough to handle customers with relative ease. His naturally soft-spoken, reserved personality still made things hard on occasion, but since quite a few customers tipped the staff — and tipped well — Yuhyeon made an effort to become someone else, at least for the hours he was on the clock.
“Yuhyeon, this one goes out to room eleven.”
“It looks like they only ordered food…. Is it right that no drinks have come in?”
The customers in room eleven had been conspicuously reluctant to order alcohol. Was it possible that another staff member had taken the order and it got missed? Glock was a large venue with plenty of part-timers handling service, so it wasn’t unheard of for a mistake to slip through unnoticed until it was too late. It seemed odd to be paying for expensive bar food and room rental without actually drinking, so Yuhyeon double-checked the POS system.
“Oh yeah, those are people who came to have a meeting with the owner.”
“With the owner?”
Yuhyeon was in the middle of carefully transferring the dishes and food the head chef was handing out onto the tray when the unexpected mention made his voice lift at the end. The owner didn’t show his face around here often, but he would stop by every now and then to check on the staff. At some point, though, his visits had dropped off so completely that the floor manager had started acting in his stead. From what Yuhyeon had heard from the kitchen staff, apparently the owner ran other businesses besides Glock, and his attention had been pulled in that direction.
Do people normally hold meetings at a bar?
He couldn’t imagine what kind of discussion would lead someone to choose a bar as a meeting venue. Though, to be fair — unlike ordinary bars, Glock had solid soundproofing and none of the surrounding noise, which did make it a reasonably good environment for serious conversation.
Yuhyeon gazed absently down at the cleanly cut fruit for a moment before pushing the service cart forward. The corridor was lined with plush rugs underfoot, so the entire time he moved down the hall, there was no sound of rolling wheels or footsteps.
“Coming in.”
Knowing the owner was inside, he knocked more carefully than usual to avoid making a poor impression. There was no response granting him entry, and he briefly considered waiting — but the work was piling up and he was in a hurry. He counted to five internally, then made up his mind to go in.
Since he was pulling the cart, he used his shoulder to push the door open, and a sharp, acrid smell slipped out through the gap. What greeted Yuhyeon was a thick blanket of cigarette smoke hanging from the ceiling. Bewilderment spread through his eyes as he took it in. The ventilation system couldn’t keep up with the rate at which the smoke was accumulating. Yuhyeon bit the inside of his mouth and exhaled slowly, fighting back the cough threatening to force its way out.
Smoking indoors isn’t allowed….
Unable to hold back any longer, the moment he drew in the smallest breath, cigarette smoke stabbed sharply into his lungs. He choked down the reflex cough and stole a cautious glance at the owner sitting at the head of the table. He didn’t want to be misread as giving the man a pointed look.
“I’ll be setting out the Korean beef tataki, sea cucumber konowata, and an assorted fruit platter.”
Yuhyeon cleared away the empty dishes with practiced ease and arranged the freshly brought items. The combination of Korean beef, sea cucumber innards, and fruit was bizarre, but that wasn’t his business to comment on. When it came time to move the fruit plate, his eyes landed on the beautifully cut, lush kiwi slices. It was his favorite fruit, so his salivary glands reacted on reflex — which was mortifying. It wasn’t until he reminded himself that he was currently on the clock that Yuhyeon managed to swallow the drool back down.
“Is there anything you’d like to drink?”
He pulled out his notepad, conveying that he was ready to take an order at any time — but the owner waved a hand to dismiss it. Chae Seongjun, the owner of Glock and the focal point of everyone seated at the table, let his tired eyelids droop shut as he drew on his cigarette. He hadn’t once unfurrowed his brow the entire time Yuhyeon was setting the table, which led Yuhyeon to guess that the meeting wasn’t going well.
Seeing Chae Seongjun up close after a long time, the man still radiated an air that was difficult to approach. Simply glancing at his face was enough to make Yuhyeon feel instantly smaller. He had striking features, broad shoulders, and a thick chest that expanded prominently with every breath, making the frame of his body all the more defined. A glance down at his hands made Yuhyeon think they were practically the size of his own face — one hit from those and he’d go down instantly. He was the kind of person that the word imposing was made for. His sheer build alone was enough to overwhelm anyone in his vicinity, but what captivated people even more than his physique was Chae Seongjun’s face — so extraordinarily good-looking it was impossible to look away.
What kind of face is that….
He needed to pull the cart out and leave, but his gaze kept drifting back to the man’s face and refusing to come away easily. What jolted Yuhyeon back to his senses was meeting a pair of black pupils so dark they looked as though they’d been ground from ink. The moment those languid, faintly bored eyes caught Yuhyeon, the lips holding the cigarette shifted slightly. Yuhyeon hurriedly bowed his head and pulled the empty cart out.
“If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll be on my way.”
Right up until the moment he stepped out of the room, Yuhyeon couldn’t quite lift his head properly. He simply kept his gaze vaguely trained somewhere downward and retraced his steps back the way he’d come. With good reason — Chae Seongjun’s eyes were still tracking him. Had he been caught staring at the man’s face while setting the table? His back prickled with heat, but he pretended not to notice and kept walking steadily forward.
Out in the corridor, Yuhyeon loosened the tension that had locked his shoulders rigid. Then he reached for the pheromone deodorizer he’d left on the lower shelf of the cart and sprayed it over himself. The cigarette smell had been so strong that he’d been unsure, but the interior of that room had unmistakably been thick with the scent of an alpha. He almost got the impression that the smoking had been done as a courtesy — to mask the scent for any staff who might have to come inside.
“Ugh, what is that smell.”
When Yuhyeon returned, the head chef wrinkled his nose and waved his hand. The cigarette smell that had seeped into the fabric was clearly unpleasant. The head chef hurriedly thrust out the nearly-empty bottle of fabric spray.
“I wondered why none of the kids wanted to go in even when room eleven called — turns out there was a reason.”
He said he’d assumed they were all just reluctant because the owner was inside and it felt like too much pressure, pinching his nose shut as he spoke. For the smell to have soaked in that thoroughly when he’d only been in the room a short time — just how strong a cigarette was the man smoking? The hazy smoke that had filled the room still floated before his eyes.
Hiss, hiss. When the pheromone deodorizer and fabric spray mingled together, they produced a scent that was neither one thing nor the other. Yuhyeon buried his nose into his sleeve to check the smell, pulled his chin down sharply, and frowned. He figured the best course was probably just to let the smell air out naturally over the rest of his shift.
I should be the one to answer room eleven’s calls from now on.
It wasn’t that he was volunteering because he found the owner’s presence comfortable. It was simply that there wasn’t a single beta or alpha among tonight’s serving staff. Normally the shifts were distributed with a reasonable balance, but it seemed the scheduling had fallen through this time — and every part-timer who’d shown up today was an omega.
Because I’m recessive….
Recessive, and then some — extremely so. His ability to detect others’ pheromones was somewhat diminished, and he wasn’t easily roused, which made his body function more or less like that of a beta.
Still, it’s strange. To think the day would come when I’d actually catch an alpha pheromone.
There must have been at least one dominant among the people in room eleven. The only pheromones Yuhyeon’s difficult body could even register were those of dominants. That said, it wasn’t to an uncomfortable degree. Unless they were deliberately releasing pheromones, the ambient body scent that clung to them wasn’t enough to affect Yuhyeon.
“If the smell’s bothering you, why not step outside for a bit?”
Yuhyeon was still sniffing, turning the pheromones over in his mind, when the head chef came back from washing his hands and jerked his chin toward the entrance of the bar. The suggestion was to get some air — both to rest and to let the smell clear. It wasn’t bothering him that much, but there was no particular reason to refuse. Yuhyeon nodded in agreement and headed up the stairs leading to the outside.
It’s colder at night, as expected.
Out on the street, Yuhyeon wrapped his arms around himself, shivering as goosebumps prickled along his skin. The uniform shirt was thin and the sleeves were wide, letting the wind drift right through. With everyone else busy, he felt oddly guilty just standing there, as though he were slacking off. He hadn’t been out long at all, yet the nagging discomfort was already making him think about heading back in — when a figure appeared at the top of the stairs connected to Glock’s entrance, and then someone drew up beside him.
“Owner?”
The moment he turned his head, his eyes went wide at the unexpected face before him. Chae Seongjun removed the cigarette from his lips and breathed out a stream of smoke into the air.
“Is work not too hard on you?”
“Ah, yes…! It’s fine.”
Ending a sentence with casual speech was something Glock’s rules discouraged. Realizing his slip, Yuhyeon moved to correct himself belatedly, but Seongjun showed no sign of caring, telling him to speak comfortably. Yuhyeon ran his fingers over his nails, working hard to shake off the unfamiliar tension.
“It’s cold out — why are you standing here? There’s a staff lounge, you know.”
“The smell of cigarette smoke got into my clothes. I came out to get some air while I was at it.”
He hadn’t meant it as a pointed remark, but Seongjun tucked the cigarette he’d been smoking into a portable ashtray. The situation was growing more uncomfortable by the second, and all Yuhyeon could think was that he wanted to flee.
“Sorry about that. I had some things on my mind — couldn’t help myself.”
Seongjun gave the ashtray in his hand a small shake and slipped it into his pocket. The atmosphere around him had loosened to the point that it was hard to believe this was the same man who’d been in room eleven. Yuhyeon looked up at him and carefully opened his mouth.
