The coffee machine coughed.
Lee Mina stared at it, dead-eyed, one hand on her hip and the other gripping the edge of the counter as if bracing for emotional impact.
Another cough. A hiss. Then a sad, dribbling wheeze of espresso splattered into the porcelain cup like a dying breath.
"Wow," she muttered, watching the weak brown puddle settle. "Same."
Behind her, the café door chimed open, and Hana's voice floated in. "Mina! You look like you've either committed a crime or are about to."
"I wish," Mina said flatly, pushing the cup forward. "This latte is either punishment or a cry for help. Not sure which."
Hana, her best friend and café manager, leaned over the counter with an arched brow. "You were here early?"
Mina raised a brow back. "The espresso machine tried to murder me, so I came early to assert dominance."
Hana snorted. "Classic barista logic."
It was just past 9 a.m., and the usual sleepy crowd of students and freelancers was trickling into Bean Me Up, the tiny Seoul coffee shop where Mina worked five days a week and mentally disassociated seven.
She pulled a fresh shot, poured a better latte, and handed it off to a regular with a tired smile. Life was repetitive. Predictable. And—just the way she liked it—blissfully undramatic.
Then her phone vibrated.
She glanced down at the screen, already regretting it.
[MOM 💢] — VIDEO CALL REQUESTING...
"Oh no," Mina whispered. She hit accept and ducked into the back room before her mother could call again, or worse—show up at the café.
Her mom's face filled the screen, smiling wide and suspicious.
"MINA-YAH! Are you at work already?"
"I'm literally at work, Mom. What's wrong?"
"Can't I just call to see my daughter's beautiful face?"
"Only when you're about to emotionally ambush me."
Her mom gasped. "I would never! ...Anyway, did you get Yuri's wedding invitation?"
There it was. The ambush.
Mina leaned against the wall, groaning. "Ugh. Yeah. It's in my sink."
"In your sink?!"
"It fell. Accidentally. While I was… aggressively avoiding it."
"Lee Mina."
Mina shut her eyes. "What."
Her mom smiled like a cat with a secret. "We're all so excited to meet your boyfriend."
Silence.
Mina blinked. "...What boyfriend?"
"Oh, don't be shy! You said in the family group chat months ago that you were dating someone. Don't deny it—I have screenshots."
"That was sarcasm, Mom. I said, and I quote, 'Yeah, I'm totally dating a supermodel who makes millions and worships me.'"
"Well, that's your fault for joking. Now everyone thinks he's coming to the wedding!"
Mina stood frozen, the weight of a thousand regrets settling on her spine.
"Mom. You did not just tell them I was bringing a plus-one."
"I already RSVP'd for you two!" Her mom beamed. "And Auntie Yoo's very curious. She says she'll be watching you both closely. You know how she is."
Yes, Mina knew. Auntie Yoo had caught two of her cousins in lies before: one pretending to be engaged to avoid a matchmaking set-up, and one who faked getting into law school. Both were exposed by the aunt's sixth sense and an unholy devotion to detective K-dramas.
Mina had five days before the wedding. Five days to either:
1. Magically produce a boyfriend, or
2. Be disowned in a hanbok in front of eighty relatives.
She felt her soul leave her body.
Her mom chirped cheerily, "You'll be there Friday night, okay? Love you!"
Click.
The call ended.
Mina stared at the screen for three long seconds.
Then she walked back into the café, plopped down behind the counter, and deadpanned, "Hana. I need to borrow someone's boyfriend."
Hana's eyes lit up like a game show buzzer. "Say no more. You're renting one."