D For Dirty

Episode 2. Let’s Do It Once

Sejeong had been expecting this semester to be a bit rough ever since she bumped into Jihoon on the school stairs a month ago and ended up in the same group as him for their liberal arts class. But she hadn’t anticipated being this frustrated with her team.

Sejeong sat in a café, checking the time diligently, quietly suppressing her boiling anger. There’s an old saying: if you endure three times, you can avoid murder. She honestly felt like she could strangle her teammates, who seemed to lack any sense of responsibility.

It was the final meeting before the presentation, scheduled for the day after tomorrow, yet only two people, including her, had shown up. She had sent several messages to the group chat, but the other two hadn’t even read them, as if they had planned it.

“How long do you plan on waiting?”

Jihoon crossed his long legs and sipped his iced coffee through a straw, noisily stirring the melting ice. It was the first thing he had said in the 20 minutes since he sat across from her, playing idly with his drink.

“I need to check the PPT file.”

She had to get the file from the returning student who had insisted, leaving the PowerPoint to her. She had sent him all the materials, and he’d promised to finish it by today, but there was no response. As the team leader and presenter, Sejeong felt the weight of the project that no one else wanted to do.

The clinking sound of ice cubes had been grating on her nerves. Sejeong raised her eyes and glared at Jihoon.

“If you’re going to drink coffee, just drink it. Don’t mess around.”

“Cheap food doesn’t suit my taste. It makes me sick.”

Sejeong looked at him, shocked.

“Then why did you order it?”

“I have to sit here somehow. It’s not like I’m begging.”

“…Let’s not talk.”

Sejeong didn’t even have the energy to argue with Jihoon.

“Haa… seriously…”

She chewed her lip, staring at her silent phone again.

Bzzzt.

“Ah!”

Her eyes widened as she grabbed her vibrating phone.

“What? Are they coming?”

Jihoon asked indifferently, and Sejeong muttered, her voice trembling.

“No. He sent the file.”

An email had arrived from the returning student. Sejeong quickly opened the attachment, and her face twisted in frustration.

“What is it?”

Jihoon leaned over to look at her phone. His proximity brought the faint scent of his cologne—an intriguing mix of lemongrass and musk—but Sejeong was too focused to notice.

“This… this is…” She gritted her teeth in anger.

“Wow… Even a middle schooler could do better than this.”

Jihoon burst out laughing, his head almost brushing hers. Sejeong glared at him, her voice low and tight.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“And you don’t?” Jihoon smirked, his face leaning closer.

Sejeong recoiled, suddenly feeling awkward. She had prided herself on ignoring the rumor Taehwan mentioned—that Jihoon liked her—but now she wasn’t so sure.

She had been surprised when he showed up to the meeting while everyone else bailed, and even a little grateful. His smile felt different from her first impression of him.

“Isn’t it funny?” Jihoon’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

What am I thinking right now?

Blinking rapidly, she shook her head and grabbed her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t present this. I’ll have to redo it myself. I won’t put those slackers’ names on it.”

Jihoon tilted his head, watching her grumble.

“That won’t work.”

“…Fine, I’ll put your name on it. After all, you were the only one who gave me some decent data.”

As much as she hated to admit it, it was true. If Jihoon hadn’t meticulously collected the necessary information, she might have exploded long ago.

Jihoon clicked his tongue. “The shitty thing about group projects is that the professor also grades teamwork, genius. If only our names are on it, you’ll lose points.”

His words stung, but Sejeong knew he was right. She wanted to cry from sheer frustration.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me, Do Jihoon.”

She turned to leave, but Jihoon stood up, blocking her path.

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?”

His gaze was intent, and Sejeong felt a strange déjà vu of the stairwell incident.

“…Move.”

Jihoon ignored her and gestured toward the door.

“Let’s go.”

“If you move, then I can go.”

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To my place.”

Sejeong’s face turned red. “Why would I go to your house?”

Jihoon shrugged. “I worked on the PowerPoint separately. The file’s on my laptop.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You… If you’re lying, I’ll kill you.”

Jihoon grinned. “Don’t be shocked by the quality.”

As he walked out, Sejeong hesitated before following him. If he was telling the truth, it might save her a sleepless night.

“Where are we going?”

Jihoon unlocked his flashy convertible and opened the passenger door.

“Ladies first.”

Sejeong pushed his hand aside, climbed in, and slammed the door. Jihoon chuckled, started the engine, and glanced at her.

“Ready?”

“For what?”

“For a drive.”

Before she could protest, the convertible’s top folded back, and Jihoon sped off.

“Slow down!”

“Why? Scared?”

“Yes, slow down!”

Ji-hoon laughed loudly beside Se-jeong, who was anxiously looking towards the road. The wind whipped against her face relentlessly, loosening strands of her tightly tied hair and sending them flying mercilessly.

Se-jeong opened her eyes wide, staring straight ahead. It was her first time speeding through downtown Seoul like this. Ji-hoon shouted over the roar of the engine beside her.

“I feel so damn sick, seriously!”

“Hey, are you crazy? Slow down a bit! Mom!!!”

“That idiot! How dare he cut in front of me?!”

The car revved loudly as Ji-hoon shifted gears, and it shot forward like a bullet.

“Watch me overtake that guy!” he yelled.

“Stop it, Ji-hoon!” Se-jeong protested.

Eventually, his car overtook the smaller one, leaving it far behind in seconds.

“Did you see that? You saw it, right? I totally crushed him!”

Se-jeong stared blankly ahead, her thoughts swirling. Next to her, Ji-hoon was laughing like a maniac.

He and I live in completely different worlds, she thought.

It was natural for someone like Do Ji-hoon to not understand what it was like to squeeze into overcrowded buses and subways every day, like beans packed tightly in a sprout container.

And just as naturally, she couldn’t comprehend Ji-hoon’s psychology—driving a luxury sports car in broad daylight, seeking thrills in the chaos of city streets.

When they arrived at Ji-hoon’s apartment, Se-jeong was already overwhelmed.

He parked his car in a garage filled with supercars and grinned at her. Ji-hoon was clearly in a good mood, likely because of their first real conversation at the cafe earlier. He even considered giving some money to the group members who hadn’t shown up for their meeting.

And, of course, he couldn’t stop grinning at the thought of Se-jeong being with him, showing her fiery personality in unexpected ways.

“Did you see it?” he asked smugly.

“…See what?” she replied, her tone flat.

“The way I parked. Perfect, wasn’t it?”

Se-jeong turned her head, unimpressed. She didn’t even bother responding, opening the car door instead. Just stepping onto solid ground made her legs tremble.

“Where’s your place?” she asked, eager to finish her business and leave.

Ji-hoon chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Follow me.”

He strode confidently towards the elevator with his long legs, pressing the button and calling back to her.

“Ahn Se-jeong.”

“What now?”

When she responded in a weary tone, Ji-hoon hesitated for a moment before blurting out,

“This is the first time I’ve brought a girl home.”

Se-jeong blinked at him, then scoffed. “…Did I even ask you?”

“Just so you know.”

“I don’t care.”

Her sharp response was deliberate, a way to push him away. If Ji-hoon was serious about her, it was better to give him no room to approach. It might seem cold, but to Se-jeong, it was the best way.

Besides, there was something else weighing on her mind—the insane car ride they’d just had. She couldn’t let it go without saying something. Turning her head, she glared at Ji-hoon.

“Do you think downtown Seoul is a racetrack?”

“Driving 60 kilometers per hour in a car like that is an insult to my car,” he replied nonchalantly.

“If you want to enjoy speed, do it alone. Don’t drag the person next to you into it.”

Ji-hoon stepped closer, his voice teasing.

“Why? Were you scared?”

“What?”

“Come on, admit it. You were scared, weren’t you? You were practically crying for your mom.”

Se-jeong glared at him, her jaw tightening. Ji-hoon laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“There are things Ahn Se-jeong is afraid of. You act like nothing fazes you, but I saw it.”

Ding.

The elevator arrived. Ji-hoon stepped in first, and Se-jeong followed him, keeping her distance. He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching her with a smirk.

“…Why are you staring at me?” she asked, her tone sharp.

“You’re there, so I’m looking.”

“Then stop looking at me.”

“Then stop showing up in front of me.”

His whisper made her tense. She sighed, glaring at him. “Why do you talk like that? It’s so annoying.”

“Then teach me how to talk,” he teased. “Aren’t you a tutor?”

“Students like you aren’t worth teaching.”

Ji-hoon chuckled, and Se-jeong turned away. The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the top floor.

“Ahn Se-jeong,” he called again, drawing out her name.

“What now?”

“Your hair’s a mess.”

Se-jeong, touching her hair back, snapped,

“What does that matter to you?”

“It’s messy,” he said bluntly.

“What did you just say?” she asked, glaring at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s annoying.”

“Hey, Do Ji-hoon!” she yelled.