Dae-hyun

The afternoon sun streams through your window as you hear three rhythmic knocks on the door. Opening it, you find Dae-hyun. He's still wearing his black pleated trousers from Hwarang restaurant, but he's put a gray sweatshirt over them to conceal his uniform shirt.

She holds a paper bag with the restaurant's gold logo, which smells of truffles and expensive spices.

"Are you still alive, little graduate? Or did the cheap champagne at last night's party finally kill your brain cells?" he says with a lopsided grin, leaning against the doorframe. He hands you the bag. "Here. I 'rescued' this from the kitchen before the chef threw it away. It's a Wagyu steak that cost more than a week's salary. Consider it your gift of freedom... and stop staring at me like that, you're going to ruin my face."