Chapter- 2
No. Absolutely not.
On the way to work the next morning, Lee Hyun clutched his head and let out a silent groan. He’d already explained everything to Minyoung, but what he heard afterward only made things worse. Apparently, the other teachers thought the same thing too—that he liked Liam. Out of consideration, they were tactfully pretending not to notice.
“Why… why does this keep happening to me?”
“Where am I even supposed to be looking…?”
With his freshly cut hair bouncing uselessly, Lee Hyun muttered bitterly as he walked.
Then, without warning, an old memory from high school resurfaced.
His school had been strictly segregated by gender. The only time he ever encountered boys was during lunch breaks or evening self-study sessions. And because those encounters were so rare, his fear of men only grew worse with time. The unfamiliarity made everything feel more awkward, more uncomfortable.
The self-study room—nicknamed the “Palm Tree Room”—had no assigned seating. It was first come, first served. Lee Hyun always aimed for the seat farthest inside, tucked neatly against the wall. It was a popular spot, so he would wolf down his meal and sprint to the room just to claim it.
And every single time—without fail—he ended up sitting next to the same boy.
Someone said he was the president of a soccer club or something. Lee Hyun didn’t care. What mattered was that, out of hundreds of students, he kept being seated beside that one boy, and it made his skin crawl with discomfort.
He spent every night in agony, like a sweet potato stuck in his chest, unable to breathe. So when a friend told him that boy was transferring schools, Lee Hyun could have cried with joy.
But the boy, apparently, had other ideas.
The day before his transfer, he stopped Lee Hyun as he was rushing out after self-study. Startled, Lee Hyun immediately dropped his gaze to the floor.
With infuriating confidence, the boy said casually,
“You like me.”
“…What?”
“I like you too.”
“…What?!”
Lee Hyun had stared at him, mouth hanging open, sucking in air like a dying fish—then turned and ran.
The next day, rumors exploded across the school.
Now, standing on the sidewalk years later, Lee Hyun froze as those memories flooded back.
Am I… doing it again?
Am I giving people the wrong idea?
He frowned and carefully reviewed his recent behavior.
First of all, yes—he stuttered whenever he spoke to Liam. But that was normal. Any Korean would struggle with English. It wasn’t like Liam had never seen that before.
What bothered him most, though, was something else entirely.
The way his face heated up whenever Liam stood in front of him.
The way his eyes couldn’t stay still.
Just thinking about it made him clench his fists.
It’s not that I blush because it’s you.
I blush at everyone.
Even my cousin once.
Even if it were a balding, middle-aged man with a beer belly, I’d still be uncomfortable.
Lee Hyun ducked into the narrow alley near the kindergarten and crouched against the wall, scratching his head again.
“What do I even say?”
“Who do I explain this to first?”
His head—once compared to a bird’s nest—now resembled a perfectly round bush. He stared down at the ground blankly. The earth was easier to face than the sky.
He still had time before work. He needed to think.
First priority: explain to Liam that everything was a misunderstanding.
But how?
Walking up and saying, “I don’t like you” felt unbearably awkward.
And worse—Liam probably wouldn’t believe him.
Pouting, Lee Hyun suddenly pulled out his phone.
Wait.
What if “crush” has another meaning?
Like… slang? Maybe for awkward coworkers?
Desperate, he frantically searched the dictionary.
That was when a shadow fell over him.
He slowly looked up.
Liam was standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, staring down at him with an expression that looked almost… pitiful. Like he was silently asking, What is this guy even doing?
“Are you okay?”
“Uh—uh, uh…”
His gaze dropped to Lee Hyun’s phone. Flustered, Lee Hyun tried to hide it—but accidentally tapped the speaker.
A clear, mechanical voice rang out between them.
“Crush—”
Lee Hyun’s mouth fell open. Liam wrinkled his nose.
Startled, Lee Hyun jumped up and began bowing repeatedly.
“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I’m so sorry!”
Somehow, repeating apologies made the situation even stranger. All he wanted was to escape.
But as he scrambled to his feet, his phone slipped from his hand and rolled across the dirt.
“Oh—!”
Lee Hyun bent down at the same time Liam did.
Unfortunately, Lee Hyun didn’t notice.
He reached forward just as Liam leaned down from behind to retrieve the phone that had rolled to his feet.
They collided.
Lee Hyun’s elbow slammed straight into something solid and… heavy.
“What the—”
Liam cursed under his breath.
Yet Lee Hyun still hadn’t realized what exactly his elbow was pressing into.
A thigh?
But… can a thigh feel this… distinct?
Frowning in confusion, Lee Hyun pressed again—out of pure reflex.
Then he raised his head.
And realized, with horrifying clarity, that he had been elbowing Liam’s vital area.
Lee Hyun sprang up like a startled bird and immediately bent forward at a perfect ninety-degree angle. He was too shocked to even form an apology.
“Th-that—that—!”
Liam stared at Lee Hyun’s face, which was burning red enough to catch fire, then calmly picked up the phone and placed it in his hand.
As if offering friendly advice, he said,
“I know you like me.”
Lee Hyun swallowed dryly.
Now.
Now is my chance.
“I—!”
But Liam spoke again, cutting him off.
“I don’t like you. So keep your distance.”
And with that, he strode past on his long legs.
Lee Hyun stood there for several seconds, completely frozen.
…Did he just misunderstand everything again?
And then draw the line like he knows it all?
Counting Liam’s offenses on his fingers, Lee Hyun suddenly took off running.
Liam was tall—his strides long. Lee Hyun had to sprint like his life depended on it just to catch up.
Panting, he blocked Liam’s path and shouted,
“I don’t like you!”
“…What?”
“No! I don’t like you!”
He waved his arms wildly, crossing them into a big X, but Liam’s expression didn’t change. Blank. Confused.
Of course—it was Korean.
Panic hit.
Lee Hyun hurriedly pulled out his phone to open the translation app.
But the earlier impact had damaged it.
The moment it unlocked, it began repeating the last function it had performed.
“Crush—
Crush—
Crush—
Crush—
Crush—”
Lee Hyun stared at the phone in despair, jaw slack.
The phone, as if mocking him, only grew louder.
Liam watched from a distance.
Then, without another word, he walked away.
Rather than clearing up the misunderstanding—
It had only made it worse.
