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KAP 4
It was the moment Kora turned to leave, wearing her professional business smile.
Suddenly, a large male student appeared out of nowhere and draped an arm over Tristan's shoulder. He then grabbed Kora's arm as she tried to pass by, scanning her up and down with an explicit gaze.
“Hey, Captain. Were you hitting on a pretty server all by yourself? Oh, wow...”
The man's gaze traveled down from Kora's face and lingered around her chest. He chuckled, his tongue heavily slurred.
“The uniform fit is just... makes me want to leave a tip. If I give you a fat tip, would you deliver to my room too?”
Kora's eyes narrowed at the blatantly sexual nuance of his remark. However, experience had taught her that arguing with a difficult customer only ended in her own exhaustion. Thus, treating him like a ghost, she spoke to Tristan.
“Your friend seems quite excited. I can no longer serve him.”
Upon hearing this, the man's face instantly twisted into a scowl. He seemed wounded that a part-time worker he viewed as beneath him was openly ignoring him.
“What? Fuck... are you telling me what to do right now? Just carry the drinks, kid. Do you even know who we are—”
Just as the man glared fiercely and tightened his grip to roughly pull Kora toward him, a chillingly low voice rang out.
“Let go of her, Svenson.”
“.......”
“I let it slide because I thought it was funny, but you're starting to get cocky in front of me, aren't you? Want me to knock out a few of your front teeth with a hockey stick? Fuck, it's not like you'd look any less like shit whether you have those teeth or not.”
There wasn't a shred of warmth in his eyes as he stared at Svenson with an expressionless face.
The sudden drop in temperature was so severe it made one's skin crawl.
Svenson, who had been so arrogant moments ago, lost all his nerve. He released Kora's arm and shut his mouth tight.
The way he stood there stiffly, gauging Tristan's reaction, made him look like a seven-year-old child.
After glaring at Svenson as a warning, Tristan slowly turned his head to look at Kora.
Then, the brutality vanished from his face in an instant, and he smiled at her. It was a cool smile—one where the eyes weren't smiling at all.
“Sorry. I'll apologize on his behalf. You don't need to bring any more drinks.”
“...Yes.”
Kora nodded in acknowledgment and quickly left the area.
After moving near the counter, she stole a glance and saw Tristan sitting back down at the bar table. Her heart was pounding wildly.
‘Wow, even I'm intimidated... He's the type to crush people like that. Well, he is the captain of the hockey team, so that explains it.’
Having inadvertently become well-versed in various sports while working at the pub for several months, Kora had concluded that few things were as violent as hockey.
‘Because those guys legally beat people up on the rink.’
The "hockey fight," where players engage in one-on-one bare-knuckle brawls during a game, was a highlight of the match.
It might seem strange for hockey players to suddenly start punching each other—this isn't the UFC, after all—but in hockey, it was a tactic and a system.
Since hockey is a high-contact sport, emotions between players often ran high.
The problem was that every piece of equipment hockey players wore was essentially a lethal weapon. From the sharp blades of the skates to the sticks and hard helmets.
Therefore, it was said that the bare-knuckle fighting rule was created to prevent conflicts from escalating into bloody massacres.
Of course, such hockey fights were strictly forbidden in the college league, but it remained a fact that the physical altercations were more intense than in any other sport.
From what she had heard, the player who utilized such physical combat most tactically was Tristan Lockwood.
‘Just seeing his eyes flip like that earlier, he might be someone who secretly enjoys violence.’
Barely calming her racing heart, Kora tidied up around the counter and turned around.
There sat Tristan, still at the bar table, indifferently watching his teammates. But for some reason, the look in his eyes was strange.
How should she put it?
It felt like a deep ocean—calm on the surface, but no one knew what was happening beneath the water.
Observing him closely, there was a peculiar sense of superiority in his gaze. A look of arrogance, as if he were fundamentally different from those pathetic creatures.
She had thought he seemed gentle on the outside but strangely twisted somewhere...
‘But you're the leader of those people. Why are you acting so noble and aloof?’
For some reason, even the manners he showed her felt like a disguise to hide a well-sharpened blade.
Perhaps he was the type to hide his true nature because he had too much to lose.
Pfft.
It was the moment Kora let out a short, mocking laugh while looking at him.
Suddenly, Tristan's blue-grey eyes rolled to the side, and as if by magic, his gaze locked exactly with hers.
The smile vanished from Kora's face the moment their eyes met.
Did he hear her laughing at him? But the pub was so noisy...
Then, a passage from a hockey broadcast she'd seen recently came to mind, where a commentator had been passionately evaluating Tristan.
— Sometimes I wonder if this player has a sixth sense. They call it an animal instinct for sensing where the puck will bounce, right? He is a player born with that ability.
Was his intuition truly that exceptionally developed, just as the commentator had said? It was a timing that would be impossible unless all his attention had been focused on her.
Soon, Tristan beckoned Kora with his index finger. It was an arrogant gesture, as if calling a dog.
Feeling offended, Kora pretended not to see, but he called her again.
“Hey.”
“.......”
“You there. Come here for a second.”
Unable to avoid it, she approached him with a displeased expression, her heart thumping. She felt like a child being called before a teacher after doing something wrong.
Facing him, Kora asked as calmly as possible.
“Would you like to order?”
“You're a Chatsworth student, right?”
“...Why are you curious about that?”
At her sharp response, Tristan let out a small chuckle.
“Isn't small talk with customers part of a server's job?”
“.......”
“Relax your face. I'm just a bit curious about you.”
“Curious about what?”
Tristan ignored her prickly response and made an effort to keep the conversation going.
“What year?”
“Sophomore.”
“Major?”
“...Econ.”
“Where are you from?”
“Michigan.”
It was a literal clash of spear and shield. Faced with Kora's attitude, which radiated a desire to end the conversation, he rolled his tongue in his mouth and smiled strangely.
“How many of those answers were lies?”
“Maybe all of them?”
Only then did Kora realize, under his interrogation, that she had confessed everything truthfully. Usually, when rude customers asked for her personal information, she would mix in a few lies.
But in front of him, it was as if her defense mechanism had malfunctioned, and the truth had simply slipped out. Tristan nodded slowly, as if he had expected as much, and chuckled.
“You're certainly paying the price for being pretty.”
Kora's eyes narrowed at those words.
“...What price? That's rude.”
“Why are you offended? If you're pretty, it's only natural you should pay the price for it.”
“.......”
“It's my philosophy that everything should be paid for at a price commensurate with its value.”
Kora placed one hand on her hip and stared at him intently. Why was he provoking her?
She was already upset because of the rude hockey teammate, and now it felt like Tristan was playing with her, which didn't sit well with her.
Kora narrowed her eyes and opened her lips.
“Want a pro tip for real life?”
“I'm listening.”
“It's not in your best interest to annoy the person making the drink you're about to consume, Captain.”
“.......”
Who knows what I might put in the drink.
Tristan, instantly catching the meaning, burst into a hearty laugh.
The coldness in his eyes vanished as they curved into crescents, and deep dimples carved into his smooth cheeks.
When he was expressionless, he was so cold it was scary to even speak to him, but laughing like that, he looked like nothing more than a fresh-faced college student.
Then, stopping his laughter, he leaned his upper body slightly toward the table. As if he were about to whisper a secret meant only for the two of them.
“This is what I actually wanted to say.”
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