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The jingly noise slices through the silent meltdown I’m having, sounding louder than I remember.

Staggering out of the bathroom, I snatch my phone from the bedside table. Kelly’s name glows on the screen.

Fuck.

But I shouldn’t be surprised—she wants to know about my date last night with Andrew.

I consider ignoring the call, then remember how persistent Kelly is. Once I tried ignoring her when I was home sick with the flu, and she camped outside my apartment door with soup and medicine, insisting I let her in.

“Hey,” I manage when I answer, keeping my tone casual.

“Finally! I was waiting for you to text me last night. Remember you said you would?” she asks. “Tell me everything! Did you two hit it off? He’s funny, right? You two would be so good together!”

I rub my temple and glance down at the puffy, irritated skin on the inside of my wrist. “It was… not great.”

“Uh-oh. I’ve got to hear the whole story. I’m heading to Unnie’s in a few. Come meet me. You need caffeine. And a sympathetic gal pal to vent to.”

“I don’t know,” I say, lowering myself to the edge of the bed. “I’ve got stuff to do.”

“Like what? It’s Saturday. You’re in South Korea. You’re supposed to be exploring, eating rice cakes, and visiting cat cafés—not hiding in your apartment like a hermit.”

“My mom’s coming to visit. I’ve got to get stuff in order.”

Kelly makes a soft scoffing sound that blends with her amused tone. “Monroe, your mom’s not coming for another week. That’s seven whole days to vacuum, do laundry, and wipe down your apartment ’til it’s squeaky clean. You can spare an hour for coffee.”

I stare at the floor, suddenly weighed down by everything troubling me.

But what am I going to say?

No thanks. I was marked by the vicious leader of a gang and essentially told I’ll be hunted down and killed if I even breathe wrong?

I swallow down the latest rush of nausea.

“Okay,” I mumble. “I’ll be there in a few.”

“Good! First round’s on me.”

Kelly hangs up, and I sit in silence, the phone heavy in my hand. I glance down at the mark for the hundredth time this morning.

It feels like it’s branded into me. Like I don’t really understand just what kind of fucked up trouble I’m now in.

I have to find a way to get rid of it.

…after coffee.

The bell above the door jingles as I step into Unnie’s and immediately spot Kelly. She waves me down from a table near the back, grinning and sipping from her matcha latte. She’s already made herself comfortable, her purse slung over the back of her chair and her phone out on the table as she scrolls through her social media feed.

I cut a path toward her through the cramped café.

Unnie’s is a staple, with air smelling like freshly ground coffee beans and cute lights strewn across the ceiling like constellations. Jazzy music plays in the background, and the furniture is comfy and mismatched. It’s one of my favorite spots in the neighborhood to come by and just sit and sip for a while. Even better that the toasted almond croissants and milk tea are some of the best.

A couple sits by the window, fingers laced across the table. They look in love, meanwhile I must look a wreck.

I jammed a beanie over my curls and threw on the first semi-matchy clothes I could find in my wardrobe.

“Monroe!” Kelly calls brightly. “You look like I do when I’m hungover after too much soju punch. Let me guess—Drew talked your ear off and dragged dinner on for hours! I told him to go easy on you. He likes to talk.”

I slip into the chair across from her. “That’s one way to describe him.”