The staff room always felt like an alien world to Do-yun. There was no neon, no laughter, no crowd. Just a narrow corridor, the smell of dampness, and boxes stacked in uneven piles. The dim overhead lamp flickered, casting ragged shadows on the walls. The music from the main room penetrated as a low roar—like heartbeats, but muffled and distant.
He paused near the door when he heard a voice. Quiet, subdued, but clear enough for the words to slip through.
"…tonight. Everything will be ready. No one should notice."
A pause. Then a dry chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Same account."
Do-yun clenched his fingers on the doorknob, waited a few seconds, and pushed the door open, letting the squeak cut the silence.
A skinny guy in a black shirt flinched, but immediately shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled:
"Oh, it's you? You almost scared me. Thought it was one of the managers."
Do-yun stepped inside, an empty tray in his hands. He gestured to the boxes:
"Tidying up?"
"Yeah." The guy lifted one of the lids and slammed it shut with a bang. "These deliveries always come at the wrong time. And we're the ones who have to unload them. So we just pretend everything is under control."
Do-yun put the tray on the counter and crossed his arms.
"Long shift tonight?"
"You're asking?" The guy scoffed. "Any shift here is like hard labor. Either too many guests or the work never ends."
He leaned against the shelving unit, stretching his legs.
"Are you new here?"
"A few weeks," Do-yun replied evenly.
"I figured." A slight taunt entered his voice. "Newbies are always too serious. They think everything rests on their shoulders."
Do-yun shrugged. "Someone has to work."
"Work," the guy repeated, rolling his eyes. "That word sounds funny in here. We don't work—we survive."
He paused for a second, then added with a smirk:
"Though you probably don't even feel it."
Do-yun looked up. "Feel what exactly?"
"The flavor of life," the guy spread his hands. "You're a Beta. You don't have this… this thing Alphas and Omegas have. The whole game of scents, power, instincts. You watch from the sidelines."
The tone was light, but the words cut like a knife.
Do-yun maintained his composure, but something stung inside. He looked down, pretending to adjust the tray.
"Perhaps observing is sometimes more useful than feeling."
The guy laughed. "You're a philosopher. But you know what the funniest thing is?"
"What?"
"You look a bit like an Omega. The gaze, the way you carry yourself. But we both know—you're not one."
The silence hung thick, as if the air in the staff room had grown heavy.
Do-yun slowly raised his gaze. His face remained calm, but his fingers clenched tighter.
"Interesting observation. But I don't think looks mean much in this club."
The guy shrugged. "Maybe. Just saying what came to mind. Don't take offense."
He bent over the boxes again, as if the conversation meant nothing. But Do-yun felt every phrase embedding itself deeper than he cared to show.
"Alright," the guy straightened up again, pulling keys from his pocket. "I need to get back to the bar. Otherwise, they'll think I'm hiding out here."
He walked past, leaving behind the smell of cheap cologne and a sense of sticky secrecy.
Do-yun remained alone in the staff room. His gaze fell on a box with a familiar company logo. His fingers slid over the cardboard. The pieces slowly clicked together in his head: the phone call, the strange words, the unusual deliveries.
***
The door opened again. Seung-ho stood in the doorway. His shadow blocked the light, his gaze stopping on Do-yun.
"What are you doing here?" he asked calmly, but with his usual steel in his voice.
Do-yun didn't take his eyes off the box. "Just looking."
Seung-ho stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"At what exactly?"
"At the fact that there are too many coincidences in this club." Do-yun ran his fingers over the cardboard. "And I don't believe in coincidences."
Seung-ho looked at the box, and his expression turned colder. "My people handle this cargo. If something is wrong with it—it means someone decided I wouldn't notice a thing."
He turned closer to Do-yun; mere inches separated them.
"And I want to know exactly who."
The lamp flickered again, and long shadows swayed on the wall behind them.