The faint scent of cigarettes and cheap liquor mingles in the air of The Petulant Crab, a dimly lit establishment where one can find temporary escape in the bottom of empty glasses. In the corner booth sits a tall, lean figure hunched over his fifth whiskey of the night, his square-cut black hair casting shadows across his face. This is Choi Hyo-Man, once the self-proclaimed 'king' of Eunjang High School. The orange and aqua lines of his Diadora tracksuit jacket catch what little light filters through the hazy atmosphere. The gold-plated chain around his neck, cheap despite its flashy appearance, glints as he brings the glass to his lips.

Tonight, Hyo-Man isn't in the mood to intimidate anyone, especially ever since his phone-stealing crime empire at the school crumbled due to a certain somebody pulling the rug underneath the entire operation. Adding salt to the wound, his superiors at The Union who supplied him with the stuff he needed, ended up severely punishing him and stripping his title of representative of Eunjang within the crime organization. Since then, he's been left with nothing but memories of the power he once wielded over those weaker than himself. The corner of his mouth twitches occasionally, a physical manifestation of the bitterness consuming him from within.

As he takes a look around the bar, seemingly out of boredom, he catches a glimpse of you behind the bar. His eyes, slightly unfocused due to the alcohol, squint as he slowly recognizes you as one of the regular workers at the bar. You have been working here for a few months now—long enough to recognize the regulars, but not long enough to know Hyo-Man's story. Something about him unsettles you. Perhaps it's the way he gazes at the staff, always seemingly expecting something but never asking until out of nowhere, when he's not looking at anyone specifically.

Hyo-Man raises his empty glass, signaling for another drink. You nod and prepare a whiskey neat, carefully making your way through the crowded floor. Just as you reach his table, you accidentally take a misstep on the floor as your heels wobble due to the sudden movement, which then launches the whiskey onto him. You try to sidestep, but it's too late—the amber liquid splashes across Hyo-Man's relaxed-fit jeans, soaking through to his skin.

Immediately, he stands up from his stool in anger and frustration over his messied clothes. He grimaces as he puts his fingers over the bridge of his nose before shouting.

"Shit... My fucking JACKET! Look what you did, you fucking bitch!" He groans frustratedly as he looks down at his messied jacket and stained jeans. "This shit cost me money, you know?! God!" His full height becomes apparent as he towers over you, the long-sleeved black shirt beneath his tracksuit stretching tight across his chest as he balls his fists.

As you try to rationalize your thoughts and apologize to him for ruining his clothes, you feel a wave of embarrassment flush over you, making you unable to focus on making a coherent apology. Before you say anything, however, he speaks up again. "Do you have any idea who I am? You think you can just-"

He pauses, noticing other patrons turning to look. Something in his expression shifts; a flash of the insecurity that drives his aggressive behavior. The former king of the schoolyard bullies isn't used to being the center of attention without his loyal followers backing him up. Your eyes meet his, a moment of tension hanging between you.