He Is That Guy

The restaurant we arrived at looked more like a full-course Korean fine dining place than a barbecue joint.
An employee in a hanbok led us to a private room. Before long, the table filled up with an entire course set—beef and side dishes laid out like a royal feast.
‘Okay, sure, beef is expensive dining, but…’
I couldn’t help sighing at the spotless, drama-set-tier interior and the overwhelming parade of dishes. I hadn’t expected this level. I thought we were going to a normal grill place.
“Hyung, eat a lot! I’ve been here a few times, and it’s not bad,”
Chae Yu-jeong said brightly from across the table, perfectly at ease being served. He looked born to be here—oozing refinement.
…Wait. Is this guy from a rich family? He definitely looks the part.
“Isn’t this a bit much? Seems kinda pricey.”
Maybe he’d made a reservation or something, because as soon as we sat down, the food started arriving without us even ordering. So I had no idea what it actually cost.
He placed a piece of perfectly grilled beef on my plate, grinning.
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s you I’m eating with.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep! I just signed a new contract and got a big payout!”
…Should he really be saying that so casually?
‘Next time, I’m the one taking him out.’
Judging by those eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, if I left it up to him again, he’d drag me somewhere just like this next time too. Thinking that, I popped the piece of beef into my mouth.
“How is it?”
“It’s good.”
The meat was top-quality—it melted in my mouth.
When I gave him my honest take, Chae Yu-jeong, who’d been tense watching my reaction, finally relaxed.
“I joked around a lot back when we played jungle together, and the interview thing too… I’ve done a lot wrong by you. So, think of this as my apology.”
The moment he said that, the beef in my mouth turned to rubber, the taste evaporating completely.
A knot tightened in my chest. I swallowed like nothing was wrong and asked as casually as I could.
“About that interview.”
“Yes?”
“When did you do it?”
He tilted his head slightly, surprised by the question, but answered right away.
“Last Wednesday. It was a team interview—everyone did one, but mine got published first. Probably because it was my first appearance after a year.”
“Ah… so it came out about a week later?”
“Right.”
Yu-chae had said she had something to do and left the raid party on Sunday.
So, it really had nothing to do with Chae Yu-jeong. Sure, if he were trying to hide something, lying this smoothly would make sense—but there wasn’t a trace of that kind of attitude in him right now.
‘If that’s all an act, he could be a professional actor.’
At this point, all I could do was laugh hollowly. Honestly, I didn’t even know what to think anymore.
Suspicions are supposed to come with some kind of evidence. If I kept spiraling like this, I really would lose my mind.
“…Why? Still worried about the interview?”
He looked at me, cautious. Those gentle eyes reading my face made me smile bitterly.
“It’s nothing.”
I shoved the doubts into the back of my head and picked up my chopsticks again.
Seeing me keep eating, Chae Yu-jeong visibly relaxed and went back to his own meal.
 
****
After we finished eating and got back in the car, I noticed a missed call I hadn’t seen earlier.
‘Tae-young hyung again? What now?’
He’d been calling a lot lately. I started scrolling through the unread messages before calling back—and froze at an unexpected name.
[Kim Ui-chan: How’ve you been?]
“……”
My face twisted like paper.
I’d just filled my stomach with good beef and was finally in a decent mood—what a damn timing.
‘What the hell gives him the face to contact me?’
Last I heard, he’d transferred to China. Don’t tell me he’s already back in Korea?
Now it made sense why Seo Tae-young had called. Probably to warn me that Kim Ui-chan might reach out.
“Hyung, what’s wrong?”
My expression must’ve turned grim, because Chae Yu-jeong noticed right away, eyes narrowing slightly.
After thinking for a moment, I asked, “Something came up. Mind if I take a call real quick?”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
He agreed easily, though he kept glancing over curiously.
I needed to get a handle on this first. I could explain to him later.
As soon as I called, Seo Tae-young picked up immediately.
—Hello?

“Hey, hyung. Sorry, I just saw your call—I was out.”
—Ah, got it. It’s nothing serious, really.
“Did you call about Kim Ui-chan?”
The moment that name left my mouth, Chae Yu-jeong’s hand on the steering wheel gave a faint tremor.
—Yeah. How’d you know?
“He messaged me.”
—Unbelievable. What’d he say?
“He asked how I’ve been. I’m sure I blocked him ages ago, so either he changed numbers or made a new account.”
—Jesus… still the same shameless bastard.
Tae-young let out a deep sigh, his voice heavy with distaste.
—He got back to Korea a few days ago. Guess his China deal fell through. I just heard from someone today. I wanted to give you a heads-up, but looks like I’m late.
“It’s fine. I missed your call anyway. Wasn’t he supposed to move teams? Why’s he back already after just a year?”
—His team’s performance tanked all season. You know how strong the Chinese players have gotten—lots of Koreans move over since the pay’s higher, and guys like him end up discarded.
Kim Ui-chan’s move to China had been about skill, plain and simple.
Korea’s pro scene was world-class—consistently producing world champions—and players who couldn’t keep up either transferred abroad or retired. Kim Ui-chan had been the former.
“Still, since it was overseas, I thought he’d stick it out at least two years.”
—Apparently, it was a one-year deal from the start. Guess he got booted when they wouldn’t renew him.
Tae-young clicked his tongue, sounding irritated.
—But man, must be rough having that creep resurface.
“What’s there to be rough about? I’ll just block him again. Thanks for the heads-up, hyung.”
—Don’t thank me. The real problem’s your peace of mind. You two were close once, after all.
“……”
—Yeah, do what you said—block him, don’t engage. Got it?
“Yeah. Don’t worry.”
—Good. Talk later.
As soon as I hung up, Chae Yu-jeong—who’d been keeping his lips tightly shut like he was holding something in—turned to me right away.
“That guy, Kim Ui-chan… he’s the one who used to play with you in tournaments, right? I think he was an ADC.”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, a bit surprised he remembered someone from a tournament five years ago.
“He and I were the same age on that team. We got close, but… about a year ago, something happened and we stopped talking.”
The fallout hadn’t been anything huge.
Kim Ui-chan just had a habit of lying—and I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d keep letting that slide.
It wasn’t even lies like skipping out on debts or breaking promises. But in hindsight, I almost wish it had been that simple. I would’ve cut him off clean, no hesitation.
“…I knew you were close,” Chae Yu-jeong said softly after a pause.
“I used to watch Tae-young hyung’s streams a lot, even before he started his own show. Sometimes you’d hop on Discord with him, remember? You two would mess around or end up on the same or opposing teams in Heroes of Legend. I never missed a stream.”
“What? You watched all that?”
“Yeah. Kim Ui-chan was there sometimes too. So I knew you two were close.”
“……”
Those streams were nothing—just dumb banter on Discord, or teasing each other in all-chat during matches. And he’d watched all of that?
He remembered a five-year-old tournament and all those streams. This kid really might have admired me all along…
While I sat there dumbfounded, the car quietly pulled up near my neighborhood.
“I’ll get out here.”
I pointed toward the convenience store instead of my apartment—having him drop me at my doorstep felt awkward. He stopped the car without protest.
Following me out, he looked unusually tense as he approached.
“Um, hyung… are you upset?”
“What? Why?”
“…Because I watched all your old streams.”
I’d only planned to thank him for the ride, so that caught me completely off guard.
Man, if I leave him alone for two minutes, his thoughts just shoot straight into orbit.
“I swear I’m not a stalker or anything. It’s just—when Tae-young hyung streamed with you, he always put your username in the title. Then he’d upload it to YouTube, so it was easy to find.”
“Yeah? It’s fine. Watch all you want.”
“Really?”
“Really. So go ahead.”
Even with my half-hearted reply, Chae Yu-jeong smiled, visibly relieved. Then, after a long pause and a flush creeping into his cheeks, he asked, voice careful:
“Hyung… if it’s okay with you… would you come over to my place next week?”
After we finished eating and got back in the car, I noticed a missed call I hadn’t seen earlier.
‘Tae-young hyung again? What now?’
He’d been calling a lot lately. I started scrolling through the unread messages before calling back—and froze at an unexpected name.
[Kim Ui-chan: How’ve you been?]
“……”
My face twisted like paper.
I’d just filled my stomach with good beef and was finally in a decent mood—what a damn timing.
‘What the hell gives him the face to contact me?’
Last I heard, he’d transferred to China. Don’t tell me he’s already back in Korea?
Now it made sense why Seo Tae-young had called. Probably to warn me that Kim Ui-chan might reach out.
“Hyung, what’s wrong?”
My expression must’ve turned grim, because Chae Yu-jeong ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ noticed right away, eyes narrowing slightly.
After thinking for a moment, I asked, “Something came up. Mind if I take a call real quick?”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
He agreed easily, though he kept glancing over curiously.
I needed to get a handle on this first. I could explain to him later.
As soon as I called, Seo Tae-young picked up immediately.
—Hello?
“Hey, hyung. Sorry, I just saw your call—I was out.”
—Ah, got it. It’s nothing serious, really.
“Did you call about Kim Ui-chan?”
The moment that name left my mouth, Chae Yu-jeong’s hand on the steering wheel gave a faint tremor.
—Yeah. How’d you know?
“He messaged me.”
—Unbelievable. What’d he say?
“He asked how I’ve been. I’m sure I blocked him ages ago, so either he changed numbers or made a new account.”
—Jesus… still the same shameless bastard.
Tae-young let out a deep sigh, his voice heavy with distaste.
—He got back to Korea a few days ago. Guess his China deal fell through. I just heard from someone today. I wanted to give you a heads-up, but looks like I’m late.
“It’s fine. I missed your call anyway. Wasn’t he supposed to move teams? Why’s he back already after just a year?”
—His team’s performance tanked all season. You know how strong the Chinese players have gotten—lots of Koreans move over since the pay’s higher, and guys like him end up discarded.
Kim Ui-chan’s move to China had been about skill, plain and simple.
Korea’s pro scene was world-class—consistently producing world champions—and players who couldn’t keep up either transferred abroad or retired. Kim Ui-chan had been the former.
“Still, since it was overseas, I thought he’d stick it out at least two years.”
—Apparently, it was a one-year deal from the start. Guess he got booted when they wouldn’t renew him.
Tae-young clicked his tongue, sounding irritated.
—But man, must be rough having that creep resurface.
“What’s there to be rough about? I’ll just block him again. Thanks for the heads-up, hyung.”
—Don’t thank me. The real problem’s your peace of mind. You two were close once, after all.
“……”
—Yeah, do what you said—block him, don’t engage. Got it?
“Yeah. Don’t worry.”
—Good. Talk later.
As soon as I hung up, Chae Yu-jeong—who’d been keeping his lips tightly shut like he was holding something in—turned to me right away.
“That guy, Kim Ui-chan… he’s the one who used to play with you in tournaments, right? I think he was an ADC.”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, a bit surprised he remembered someone from a tournament five years ago.
“He and I were the same age on that team. We got close, but… about a year ago, something happened and we stopped talking.”
The fallout hadn’t been anything huge.
Kim Ui-chan just had a habit of lying—and I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d keep letting that slide.
It wasn’t even lies like skipping out on debts or breaking promises. But in hindsight, I almost wish it had been that simple. I would’ve cut him off clean, no hesitation.
“…I knew you were close,” Chae Yu-jeong said softly after a pause.
“I used to watch Tae-young hyung’s streams a lot, even before he started his own show. Sometimes you’d hop on Discord with him, remember? You two would mess around or end up on the same or opposing teams in Heroes of Legend. I never missed a stream.”
“What? You watched all that?”
“Yeah. Kim Ui-chan was there sometimes too. So I knew you two were close.”
“……”
Those streams were nothing—just dumb banter on Discord, or teasing each other in all-chat during matches. And he’d watched all of that?
He remembered a five-year-old tournament and all those streams. This kid really might have admired me all along…
While I sat there dumbfounded, the car quietly pulled up near my neighborhood.
“I’ll get out here.”
I pointed toward the convenience store instead of my apartment—having him drop me at my doorstep felt awkward. He stopped the car without protest.
Following me out, he looked unusually tense as he approached.
“Um, hyung… are you upset?”
“What? Why?”
“…Because I watched all your old streams.”
I’d only planned to thank him for the ride, so that caught me completely off guard.
Man, if I leave him alone for two minutes, his thoughts just shoot straight into orbit.
“I swear I’m not a stalker or anything. It’s just—when Tae-young hyung streamed with you, he always put your username in the title. Then he’d upload it to YouTube, so it was easy to find.”
“Yeah? It’s fine. Watch all you want.”
“Really?”
“Really. So go ahead.”
Even with my half-hearted reply, Chae Yu-jeong smiled, visibly relieved. Then, after a long pause and a flush creeping into his cheeks, he asked, voice careful:
“Hyung… if it’s okay with you… would you come over to my place next week?”