If there was one thing Kang Ara hated more than cold lattes and exes who found happiness before her, it was Mondays. Especially rainy ones. The kind of rain that wasn't romantic or poetic just disrespectful. Like the sky was personally offended by her existence and decided to make it everyone's problem.
She balanced her umbrella, a laptop bag, and a paper bag containing what was supposed to be her emotionally healing breakfast sandwich. It was already soggy.
"This is fine," she muttered, eyes squinting against the drizzle. "This is how people in Netflix shows start their glow-up era soggy and sad."
She reached the crosswalk just as the light turned red. Of course. The tiny man on the traffic pole mocked her, frozen mid-stride like he actually had somewhere to be.
"Stupid capitalist icon," she hissed at it.
That was when it happened. The moment. The incident. The crash.
A speeding electric scooter zipped around the corner like it had a personal vendetta. The rider tall, black hoodie, helmet, and the posture of someone who had made peace with death barreled straight into her. She had exactly 0.2 seconds to react. Which she used wisely to blink and whisper, "Oh no."
They collided like a low-budget Marvel stunt. Her umbrella flew. Her bag did a somersault. The breakfast sandwich died instantly.
They both hit the ground.
Ara lay flat on the wet pavement, eyes wide open, staring at the sky like she was rehearsing for her funeral. Then pain. Then rage. Then the awareness that someone a man was now breathing very close to her face.
"I am... so sorry," came the voice. Then, hesitating, he muttered, "Joesonghamnida…?" like he wasn't quite sure he was saying it right. Deep,Rich, British-accented. Which she hated.
Ara sat up fast, wincing.
"Neo michyeosseo?! Jinjja jugeullae?!" she shouted, her voice rising above the rain. "ARE YOU A PSYCHOPATH?!"
He looked genuinely shocked. "I was turning! You walked into my lane!"
"It's a sidewalk! Not a racetrack! Who rides a scooter in a thunderstorm like it's Fast & Furious: Seoul Drift?!"
He stood and held out a hand. "You're bleeding."
"Oh, thanks for noticing. Should I send you the hospital bill or just invoice your ego?"
The man had the audacity to chuckle.
"I'll pay for your sandwich," he offered.
Ara narrowed her eyes. "You can't pay for emotional damage with cheese."
"Actually, I think science would disagree."
She stared at him. He had dimples. Of course he had dimples.
That's when Luna arrived Ara's best friend, chaos spirit, and part-time life coach with no credentials.
"What the hell happened?!" Luna screamed, running over in neon pink crocs. "Ara, did you get hit by a scooter? By a MAN on a scooter? Is this how your enemies take you out now?"
"It was an accident," Scooter Guy said, now glancing between Ara and Luna like he wasn't sure which one might slap him first. "Did I say that right?" he added, whispering, "Jwe... jong... hab... nida?"
Luna stared at him like he'd just insulted her ancestors. "You hit my best friend. On a Monday. In THIS weather jugeullae?"
He blinked. "Do you always speak in threats?"
"Yes," Ara and Luna said in unison.
"I'm Jace," he said, hands up in surrender. "Really sorry. Let me at least get her coffee. And maybe a bandaid."
Luna folded her arms. "If your name turns out to be Jason, I swear to God…"
"It's not." He cuts in
Ara, still wet and fuming, couldn't help but notice something: Jace was hot. Objectively, stupidly hot. The kind of hot that should be illegal on a scooter.
Damn him.
"Fine," she said. "Buy me coffee. And a new sandwich. With extra cheese."
Jace nodded solemnly. "Emotional cheese. Got it."
As they walked off toward the café Luna grilling him like a detective, Ara limping like an angry gremlin it occurred to her: maybe this was the start of something new.
Or maybe just another disaster.
---
The café smelled like caffeine and regrets. Ara sank into a chair, still dripping wet, while Jace ordered drinks at the counter. Luna sat across from her, watching with the gleeful suspicion of someone who smelled a story.
"You like him," she said.
Ara scoffed. "I like air conditioning. I like dry socks. I don't like Scooter Hit-And-Run."
"He's hot."
"He's dangerous."
"He has a butt."
"I'm injured."
"Exactly. You're vulnerable. This is the prime time for falling in love."
"Luna, this isn't a K-drama. This is real life. Where hot guys give you concussions."
Jace returned with three drinks. "One caramel latte, one green tea thing, and one... ginger shot?"
Ara pointed at Luna. "That chaos belongs to her."
He sat beside Ara, too close. Way too close. Her knee bumped his and she swore her soul did a cartwheel.
"So, you work around here?" he asked casually.
"I exist around here."
"Cool, cool. Very mysterious. I like it."
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched.
"I work at an architecture firm two blocks down," he added. "Today was my 'don't die' commute."
"Failed spectacularly."
"Spectacularly," he agreed, smiling.
Luna sipped her ginger shot with the slow satisfaction of a villain in a telenovela. "So. Jace. What's your star sign?"
He blinked. "I'm a Scorpio."
Ara groaned. "Of course you are. Chaos incarnate."
Jace grinned. "Guilty."
---
By the time they left the café, the rain had stopped and Ara was less soggy but far more confused. Jace offered to call a cab, but she waved him off with the tired dignity of someone who had slipped on wet concrete and lived to tell the tale.
"I'm good. And if you follow me again on that scooter, I'll sue."
"Fair enough. But let me walk you."
She let him. Because apparently, concussions make you weak.
They said goodbye on the corner where they first collided. Jace looked at her like he wanted to say something else. But he didn't.
And Ara walked away, heart thudding too hard for someone who just met their potential stalker.
She didn't even notice Luna snapping a photo from behind a tree.
"Enemies to lovers," Luna whispered to herself. "This is going to be so good."
---
Back in her apartment, Ara flopped onto her bed like a dramatic anime heroine.
Her cat, Meowgi, meowed judgmentally from the pillow.
"Don't look at me like that," she said. "I didn't ask to get hit by a scooter-riding Greek god."
Meowgi sneezed in response.
She reached for her phone and typed angrily into her group chat:
ara-geddon: i got HIT. by a scooter. a HOT SCOOTER MAN. Luna is a menace. send snacks.
Her friend Sujin replied instantly:
sujin-the-chaebol: was he rich
ara-geddon: NO he was rude and british
luna-lovergirl: he has dimples tho
sujin-the-chaebol: marry him
Ara threw her phone across the bed. "Shibal"... they're all insane," she muttered.
She closed her eyes for a second just a second only to jolt awake an hour later to a message from an unknown number.
[Unknown Number]: Hey, it's Jace. I hope you're okay. Also... I think I stole your pen? Sorry. And I might've named it Kevin.
She stared at the message.
"Jinjja mwoya...?" she muttered.
Was this her life now?
Hot scooter guy. Stolen pen. A rain-soaked almost-romance.
Lord help her. She might actually like this idiot.