⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 BREAkING NeWS .𖥔˚ ahn junwon ˎˊ˗
CHAPtER TWo

ahnjeong walked the two blocks to her apartment, wrapping her sweater tightly around herself as the cool september breeze swept through the streets. autumn was settling in, and the crisp air carried with it the subtle promise of the year's end. 

her apartment sat above a charming little cat café, a cozy spot she often escaped to when she wasn't tucked away in her own space. as she reached the side stairs, she glanced at the café's warmly lit windows, where a few kittens lounged lazily on the shelves. smiling faintly, she climbed the narrow staircase to her small sanctuary. 

the apartment was modest but perfect for her needs-a tiny kitchen, a snug living room, a bathroom, and a small bedroom. it had taken time to make the place feel like her own. when ahnjeong first moved in, it was far from the cozy home it had become. 

the apartment originally belonged to mrs. jeon's daughter-jeongmin's aunt-but it had been sitting unused for years. when mrs. jeon and miss choi learned that sixteen-year-old ahnjeong was living in a dilapidated motel that hadn't passed a single health inspection, they couldn't bear to leave her there. they offered her the apartment rent-free, with just two conditions: she had to work at the restaurant and crochet with mrs. jeon. both tasks were more than agreeable to ahnjeong. 

miss choi had helped her furnish and decorate the space. together, they painted the walls, hung curtains, and picked out furniture. for ahnjeong, it was an adventure-a rare moment of joy that stitched up old wounds in her relationship with her mother. though their bond had been fraught, that small redecorating project brought them closer. 

now, there was no trace of her past life in new york. no photos, no souvenirs, no childhood stuffed bunny perched on her bed. but that was okay. this apartment, with its mismatched furniture and warm colors, was her home-a place to binge netflix shows, get lost on youtube, and quietly exist. 

ahnjeong's social life, however, was another matter. over six years, she hadn't made much progress in forming meaningful connections. once, she thought she was building a friendship with a girl who worked at the restaurant, but it ended abruptly after ahnjeong overshared about her past too soon. it was her fault, really; she shouldn't have expected someone she barely knew to carry the weight of her story. 

still, she was content with her life. she had a rent-free apartment, a stable job at a restaurant frequented by locals, subin and jeongmin's friends, and the occasional tourist, and an endless supply of cuddly kittens downstairs. what more could she ask for? 

that evening, she followed her nightly routine. after a warm shower and her skincare ritual, she slipped into her favorite set of fluffy miffy pajamas. with a steaming cup of white hot chocolate in hand, she settled into the living room and flipped on the tv to scroll through netflix. dinner wasn't part of her nights anymore-working around chinese food for over twelve hours a day had long since dulled her appetite. 

just as she was about to rewatch a familiar movie, the doorbell rang. 

she frowned, glancing at the clock. it was 1 a.m.-hardly a time for visitors. mrs. jeon sometimes stopped by for late-night check-ins, but she was likely at home asleep, and miss choi was in seoul. 

shuffling to the door in her bunny-eared slippers, ahnjeong braced herself for whoever was on the other side. when she opened it, she was greeted by an unfamiliar man holding up her phone. 

"is this yours?" he asked, shaking her from her thoughts. 

ahnjeong blinked, staring at her phone in his hand. she hadn't even realized it was missing. the device rarely saw use; with only a handful of contacts-mrs. jeon, miss choi, jeongmin, and subin-it was more a paperweight than a lifeline. 

"uh, yes, thank you," she said, taking the phone. "but how did you get it? and how did you know where i live?" 

"oh, mrs. jeon told me to bring it to the girl who lives above the café on main street," he replied. "i'm assuming that's you." 

ahnjeong furrowed her brow. "how do you know mrs. jeon?" 

the man smiled. "we go way back. i used to babysit jeongmin when he was little." 

she nodded slowly, unsure what else to say. "thanks again," she mumbled. "have a good night." 

"you too, miffy," he said with a wink, gesturing to the bunny ears on her hood before turning and disappearing down the stairs. 

ahnjeong closed the door, her cheeks warm as she stared down at her phone. she turned it on, only to find a single message from mrs. jeon in the group chat: good night, everyone.

her stomach twisted at the sight. years ago, her phone would have been flooded with messages from friends, buzzing constantly with plans and conversations. now, the only notifications she received were polite greetings or miss choi checking in to see how she was holding up. occasionally, she'd get a scam call. 

but that was okay. ahnjeong had built a quiet, peaceful life here. no drama, no chaos-just her cozy apartment, her job, and the kittens downstairs. 

that was enough. or so she told herself. 

the next morning unfolded like any other-routine blending seamlessly into the afternoon. ahnjeong watched the clock, the slow crawl of time dragging toward 3:30 when the kids would arrive for work.

what she didn't expect was their entire crew pouring into the restaurant.

"oh my gosh, ahnie," atilla greeted in english, weaving his way to the front of the group of high school boys. his grin was wide, his energy infectious. "you won't believe what happened in science class."

"oh, do tell," ahnjeong said, smiling. atilla had a habit of recounting high school dramas to her as if she were one of them. it was kind of fun-nostalgic even. for a fleeting moment, she missed her own high school days. but then again, she wasn't a student anymore. atilla's rapid, teenaged way of speaking was often a challenge to keep up with.

jeongmin and subin slipped behind the counter, grabbing their work uniforms before heading to the bathrooms to change. their friends-originally just jeongmin's friends, but now subin's by extension since the two had started dating-claimed a table near the window.

this wasn't an everyday occurrence. on the rare days the gang visited after school, they never ordered food. instead, they used the time between the start and end of jeongmin and subin's shifts to study or work on homework together.

ahnjeong wandered back into the kitchen, curious to see if mrs. jeon needed any help. guilt nagged at her. weekday afternoons were some of their busiest times, and she hated leaving jeongmin and subin to handle it alone. still, after the lunchtime rush, she needed to catch her breath. who knew chinese takeout could be so popular throughout the day?

"anything i can help with?" ahnjeong asked as she approached mrs. jeon, who stood focused over the stove.

the older woman gave a brisk nod but didn't look up. "yes. take break. you work too hard."

ahnjeong sighed. mrs. jeon always said the same thing. no matter how often ahnjeong explained that she liked staying busy, the woman insisted on forcing her to rest.

"i'm fine, mrs. jeon," ahnjeong protested lightly. "really. just give me something to do before i lose my mind."

mrs. jeon finally turned to look at her, a deadpan expression on her face. without a word, she nodded toward a large brown delivery bag on the counter. "delivery man sick," she said simply.

"i'll be the best deliver-er you've ever seen," ahnjeong declared with a grin, grabbing the bag.

mrs. jeon's lips quirked into a small smile before she returned her attention to the stove.

ahnjeong hugged the heavy bag to her chest to keep it steady as she headed back out to the dining area.

"where are you going?" subin asked, glancing up as she passed.

"i have a delivery to make," ahnjeong replied.

"you don't even have a license, noona," jeongmin pointed out, his confusion evident.

"who said anything about driving?" ahnjeong shot back, nudging the door open with her elbow.

jeongmin groaned, realization dawning. "she's taking my bike, isn't she?" he muttered, watching her disappear outside.

subin patted his shoulder, stifling a laugh. "let's just hope it comes back in one piece."