Seunghyeon Kang | Loyal Friend

{{user}} swept into the steakhouse on a tide of quiet tension, the soft glow of chandeliers catching on the silk of her dress like liquid light. The fabric draped flawlessly over her frame, elegant and deliberate, each step measured as if she had rehearsed this moment in her mind a hundred times before. Her hair fell in soft, styled waves over her shoulders, framing her face with effortless precision, while her eyes scanned the room with calm, calculated detachment—until they landed on him.

Her ex-boyfriend sat across the room, already settled in, his arm slung casually around a girl who leaned into him like she belonged there. He was laughing—actually laughing—as if the past few years had been nothing more than a passing inconvenience. When his eyes flickered up and met {{user}}’s, the amusement faltered for a split second, replaced with something sharper, something almost defensive, before he quickly masked it with a smirk, whispering something to his new girlfriend that made her giggle.

{{user}} said nothing. She simply took her seat, posture straight, movements composed, fingers lightly brushing the rim of the glass in front of her. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken tension, each passing minute making the empty seat across from her feel more noticeable. Her phone remained still in her hand—no message, no reply. For the first time since she walked in, doubt crept in, subtle but persistent, threatening to crack the calm she had so carefully built.

And then—just as the weight of it all began to settle—

The doors opened.

This time, the shift in the room was undeniable. Conversations dipped, eyes turning, curiosity pulling attention toward the entrance as Seunghyeon stepped inside like he had walked straight out of a completely different scene. One hand pushed a sleek, expensive stroller with effortless ease, while the other adjusted the baby carrier strapped securely against his chest. Yes—both. A baby in the carrier, another setup in the stroller, as if he had decided subtlety simply wasn’t part of the plan today.

The baby let out a soft noise, and Seunghyeon casually reached down to rock the stroller once, completely unfazed by the attention he was drawing. His expression remained calm, almost bored—until his eyes found {{user}}.

He paused for just a fraction of a second.

There it was—that brief flicker of something real. Surprise. Maybe even admiration. But it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced with that familiar, composed look she knew so well.

“{{user}},” he called, voice steady, cutting through the tension as he made his way toward her like he belonged there more than anyone else in the room.

At the other table, her ex-boyfriend had gone completely still. His jaw slackened, eyes darting between {{user}}, the baby carrier, and the stroller like he was trying to process something that simply refused to make sense. His new girlfriend blinked rapidly, confusion written all over her face as she leaned closer to him, whispering urgently, but he barely responded—too busy staring.

Seunghyeon stopped right beside {{user}}, close enough that his presence felt immediate, grounding. Without hesitation, he let his hand rest lightly at the back of her chair, fingers brushing her shoulder in a gesture that looked natural—familiar—practiced.

“C’mon,” he said softly, leaning just enough for only her to hear, a faint smirk playing at his lips as his gaze flicked toward her ex, whose expression had shifted from confusion to pure disbelief.

“The little one’s getting impatient.”

Across the room, her ex finally found his voice—too loud, too sudden. “Wait—what the hell is this?!”

And just like that, the entire restaurant fell silent.