Stalkerizing

“Wow, I seriously thought you were dead, sunbae. I was planning to bring songpyeon to your grave this Chuseok.”

“Yeon-hee, let’s stop exaggerating.”

“How can you completely avoid all department activities like this?”

“To me? Are you serious?”

Cha Sa-yoon, who was in the middle of scooping a steaming bowl of gopchang hot pot, raised an eyebrow as if he had just heard something horrifying.

“Why? You and I are both second-years.”

“You think we’re the same?”

Technically, he was a second-year, but after serving in the military, doing a working holiday, and taking time off, Sa-yoon was already twenty-six. He let out a laugh of disbelief. The female students from his year had obviously all graduated, and the male ones were either in their final year or already done. And now, department activities?

“Why would I bother making everyone uncomfortable?”

“Oh, come on. Someone like you showing up is what makes things interesting for the others.”

“Right, I bet they’re all fascinated by the sight of an ancient upperclassman still stuck in school.”

“That’s not what I meant at all!”

“Oh, sure it isn’t.”

It wasn’t like he was sticking around as some kind of living exhibit to warn students about the dangers of overstaying their welcome in college.

“I’m telling you, that’s not it!”

Yeon-hee shot back, eyes wide.

Seo Yeon-hee had grown up a lot. She was actually making wide eyes at a senior. What was next? Squaring them?

Their lighthearted banter continued for a moment.

“Anyway, about that… Could you pleeaase come to the second semester general meeting?”

“Noo, I caaaan’t.”

“Ehh.”

Despite Sa-yoon’s sharp glare, Yeon-hee wasn’t fazed in the slightest. She just let out a playful jeer, then smoothly changed the subject.

She really was a strange junior.

Sa-yoon mimicked Yeon-hee’s way of speaking, adding an extra “ng” sound at the end of his words while clasping his hands together. Then, he refused her again. His tone was playful, but his rejection was sincere. He might attend a gathering with his peers, but showing up at a freshman event like some clueless old man? No thanks.

“Young people should hang out with other young people. That’s how it’s fun.”

In that sense, the junior sitting across from him—whom he had met last semester in an elective he had taken alone—was a bit of an odd one.

“So, what did you do all break, sunbae? Don’t tell me you were just playing that game… Oh, wait! First, cheers!”

“Hey, have you ever taken that test? The one you can do online?”

“What test?”

“You know… the alcohol addiction assessment.”

“Ugh, come on, sunbae. Do I really need to take a test to know?”

Yeon-hee, speaking with an easy confidence, downed her drink in one go. That easygoing nature was part of what made them friends in the first place.

As expected, the moment she sat down, she didn’t even glance at the menu before ordering two bottles of soju. And before the hot pot they had belatedly ordered could even start boiling, one bottle was already gone.

You’d think her stomach—practically empty—would be burning up from all the liquor, but Yeon-hee didn’t so much as flinch as she cracked open the second bottle.

“Have some mercy. I can’t drink as much on an empty stomach anymore.”

“Stop acting like an old man. You barely drank anything, and you’re already complaining?”

What the hell was her liver made of? Sa-yoon had never been called a lightweight before, but keeping up with her pace was a struggle.

“I got injured and had to stay off alcohol for a while. My liver forgot how to detox properly. You should be careful too. Losing your health happens in an instant.”

Out of patience, Sa-yoon pulled out his hidden card. It felt a little early to use it, but prevention was better than cure.

The moment he mentioned getting hurt, Yeon-hee’s face twisted in concern.

“Sunbae, is your knee still bad? Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”

“No, it’s not that serious. Just regular check-ups.”

Back in his early twenties, he had been full of energy. After finishing his military service, he had immediately gone on a working holiday to Australia.

Even after returning to school, he felt like something was missing—like he hadn’t quenched his thirst for experience. He wanted to see more of the world. That was how he ended up taking a construction job through a recommendation, only to suffer a major knee injury due to poor safety equipment.

It had taken him six months to walk out of the hospital on both feet.

There was no reason for it to still hurt, but as he recalled the incident, Sa-yoon unconsciously placed a hand over his left knee.

“So, are you still playing that game?”

“Hey, I’m telling you, once you try it, it’s fun.”

That game—Divine—had been what kept him from losing his mind during his long hospitalization.

“You call it a shitty game every day, though.”

“That’s just how it is. It’s like how you complain about your team all the time but still watch every match.”

“I do not!”

Her reaction was fierce. Hmm… they must’ve lost yesterday.

Two hardcore baseball fans supporting the same team, both equally eager to trash-talk them.

“Did you see the game yesterday? Do you know how many times they’ve lost by just one point this season? Twenty-one times. If they’re gonna play like this, they might as well just disband. Seriously!”

“Why do we never have good pitchers?”

“Exactly! If you’re gonna be in sixth place, at least go all the way to last! Kim Jong-hyeop needs to resign!”

Whenever Sa-yoon, who had been slacking on baseball lately due to gaming, made a comment, Yeon-hee would fire back with three. If she got any angrier, she might as well debut as a rapper with a diss track demanding the manager’s resignation.

At some point, the conversation took a sharp turn from baseball to Yeon-hee’s ex-relationship.

“And then, when I actually left like she told me to, she called me, yelling at me again? Ugh, seriously, I am a woman, but I still don’t get how women think.”

There was another reason why Sa-yoon had gotten close to a junior five years younger than him.

He had never told Yeon-hee, but they had one thing in common—feeling romantic attraction toward the same gender. That similarity had played a big part in opening up his heart to her.

Just like her lively personality, the topics in their conversations changed at lightning speed. This time, they wrapped up with a story about a freshman who had caused a huge stir in their school’s online confession page at the start of the semester. Yeon-hee had seen them in person recently and confirmed that none of the rumors were exaggerated.

As if swept away by a rapid current, Sa-yoon simply nodded along.

When their conversation hit a lull, they took a brief moment to savor the hot pot broth.

“Right! Sunbae, I heard you already started preparing for your graduation project.”

Yeon-hee, blowing on a spoonful of hot pot broth, suddenly brought up a new topic.

“Yeah. Finding someone to appear in it has been a bit of a struggle.”

The time it took to shoot a graduation project varied from person to person—some took as long as a year. Sa-yoon had planned for a long timeline as well.

“Are you seriously trying to film it alone?”

“Not completely alone. I’ll get help here and there, but I figured I’d try to do as much as I can first. If I really can’t manage, then I’ll ask for help.”

Most people worked in teams. But Sa-yoon had something specific he wanted to create. That was why he had started preparing earlier than most and given himself a longer timeframe.

“What kind of person are you looking for?”

Yeon-hee tilted her head, curious, as she gazed at her senior.

Despite having sharp features that made him look unapproachable, Cha Sa-yoon had one of the widest social circles on campus. If you traced just one or two connections, there was hardly anyone who didn’t know him. And it wasn’t just that he knew a lot of people—many missed him, too.

Back when she was a freshman, Yeon-hee had heard his name countless times from upperclassmen she didn’t even know. Sa-yoon is really good at this. That’s something he left behind for younger students to use. Hell, even the custom recipe from their department’s go-to café had apparently been made by him.

It wasn’t until she met the infamous Cha Sa-yoon in an elective class by chance that Yeon-hee finally understood why so many people spoke about him so fondly.

“Someone with a gentle and clean-cut image.”

As he spoke, Sa-yoon poured water into Yeon-hee’s empty glass. Being considerate was second nature to him.

“A clean-cut person?”

That didn’t sound like a particularly difficult requirement. But just as that thought crossed her mind, Sa-yoon added more.

“I’ll be filming a lot of full-body shots, so they should be tall, too.”

“Oh, yeah, height is important.”

So far, Yeon-hee didn’t see the issue. People who were tall and had a neat appearance weren’t common, but they weren’t impossible to find either.

“They also need to have an expression that suits a sense of exhaustion—something wistful, like they’re carrying a quiet melancholy. But not someone who just looks totally worn out or depressed. And on top of that…”

Of course.

There had to be a reason he was struggling to find someone.

As Sa-yoon rattled off requirement after requirement like an endless string of sausages, Yeon-hee’s expression shifted constantly.

“Sunbae, you do realize you’re being really picky, right?”

“You don’t know anyone who fits?”

“Oh, come on. If I knew someone like that, I would’ve—”

She trailed off mid-sentence.

“…Huh?”

Sa-yoon immediately picked up on her reaction and leaned forward.

“Who?”

“Do you remember what I mentioned earlier?”

Earlier? They’d jumped through so many topics that he had no idea what she was referring to.

“Earlier earlier! You know, that!”

“…That?”

“I told you! The freshman from the confession page!”

“The one so good-looking that time stopped for a moment when you saw him? The one you briefly considered worshipping as a deity?”

“Yes! Him! Sa Shin-jae from the business department!”

Seo Yeon-hee had a deep appreciation for beautiful things—regardless of gender. She was prone to dramatic reactions, but her taste was undeniably good. In that sense, she and Sa-yoon got along well.

“Sa Shin-jae?”

“Wait a sec, I know his social media.”

Yeon-hee eagerly tapped away at her phone before shoving the screen toward Sa-yoon.

And there, perfectly framed within the flat, rectangular device, was a man who truly lived up to her over-the-top descriptions.

“Oh… Damn.”

“Right?! Right?!”

To be honest, when Sa-yoon first heard Yeon-hee’s flowery descriptions, he didn’t think much of it. He figured there had to be some exaggeration mixed in.

But… holy shit, he really was that good-looking.

At some point, the phone had ended up in Sa-yoon’s hands instead of Yeon-hee’s.

“Does he look like this in real life?”

“Exactly like that.”

Yeon-hee nodded enthusiastically.

“The pictures don’t even do him justice!”

Judging by her reaction, these photos likely had minimal editing. If he really looked like this in person, it was no wonder the school’s confession page had gone insane.

His follower count was impressively high, and his feed was practically endless—photo after photo, mostly ones taken by other people.

As Sa-yoon casually scrolled through the images, his fingers suddenly stopped before reaching the end of the feed.

“…Yeah, this won’t work.”