“What are you doing?”

“Writing my diary.”

Park Jung-Jin lost interest in what Ha Jae-Gun was doing and yawned. “Aren’t you tired? Ah, where should I sleep?”

“Sleep on the bed.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll work a bit more and then sleep on the floor.”

“All right, I’ll head to bed first. Don’t work too late into the night.”

Park Jung-Jin crawled into the bed and snuggled under the blanket. A minute had barely passed, but soft snores could already be heard from Park Jung-Jin.

‘That punk, he must be exhausted.’

When Park Jung-Jin fell asleep so quickly, Ha Jae-Gun felt like he could feel the pain and sorrow of salaried workers. He then thought of his father, who had been slaving away most of his years to bring food to the table without taking any proper rest.

Ha Jae-Gun fixed the blanket on Park Jung-Jin. Then, he went back to his desk.

Looking back at the screen where he was writing his diary, a sudden thought popped up into his head. 'Oh, this…?'

He hadn’t expected it, but inspiration finally came to him.

The scene of Park Jung-Jin struggling with stress from his social life and Da-Seul, whom they had met at the karaoke room, popped up in his mind.

Ha Jae-Gun’s hands moved to the keyboard, but his fingers weren’t acting on his will...