By the time Ahn Hae and Leo left the convenience store, the clock was nearing 1 a.m. The late autumn night air was even colder, making each breath visible like a thin mist in the chilly atmosphere. The streets weren't completely deserted, but there were few passersby. The dim yellow streetlights stretched into long, lonely streaks on the damp pavement.
"Do you always come home this late?" Leo asked, concerned for Ahn Hae's safety. It wasn't exactly safe for a young woman to be out alone at this hour.
"Sometimes I take on night shifts, which means I don't get home until 5 a.m. Then I sleep for a few hours before heading back to work," Ahn Hae explained honestly.
"You're really hardworking," Leo admired her, but there was also worry in his voice. "But that's not good for your health."
Ahn Hae smiled playfully: "They say, 'Like idol, like fan,' don't they?"
The atmosphere between them had softened considerably compared to when they were still in the convenience store. Ahn Hae was no longer as reserved and now felt comfortable joking around, leaving Leo unable to counter her words.
"You're really something," Leo chuckled helplessly.
Before long, the shop Ahn Hae had mentioned came into view.
It was a small, traditional pho restaurant, with a familiar red flag bearing a yellow star hanging outside. A large poster at the entrance displayed a woman in an áo dài holding a steaming bowl of pho—a simple yet quintessentially Vietnamese form of advertising. But what caught Leo's interest the most was the restaurant's name: "Pho Real." He couldn't help but burst into laughter.
What a clever play on words.
Even from a distance, the rich aroma of the broth wafted into their noses, luring in hungry souls wandering the late-night streets. Initially, Leo had only come along to keep Ahn Hae company, but now he realized… he was actually getting hungry, too.
The moment Ahn Hae stepped inside, the familiar sounds of her native language greeted her ears like a soothing lullaby for a homesick soul.
"Welcome!"
"Auntie, uncle!" Ahn Hae beamed, her face lighting up with a radiant smile.
Leo followed her gaze and saw a middle-aged couple greeting them warmly. Their kind smiles exuded a comforting, homely warmth.
"Hae, is that you? Just finished work?" Auntie Linh, though in her forties, still carried the graceful elegance of a traditional woman.
"Yes, I brought a friend along," Ahn Hae replied as she politely gestured for Leo to take a seat.
That's when auntie Linh finally noticed Leo standing behind Ahn Hae. She smirked mischievously.
"Your boyfriend? He's quite the looker!"
"Auntie, stop teasing me! I don't stand a chance. We're just friends."
Ahn Hae laughed it off and handed Leo the menu.
Although he didn't understand what they were saying, the lively and friendly atmosphere made Leo feel at ease.
Auntie Linh stopped joking and turned to Leo, switching to Korean.
"First time here?"
Leo nodded politely. "Yes, do you have any recommendations?"
"Most customers order pho—it's a safe choice. But if you're feeling adventurous, I have some interesting options for you. Ever heard of bun dau mam tom?"
Leo blinked in confusion and instinctively looked toward Ahn Hae for help. Knowing auntie Linh's tendency to prank newcomers, Ahn Hae quickly ordered before she could rope Leo into trying something extreme.
"Just a special beef pho for him, and I'll have a bowl of bun bo Hue, please."
Thwarted, auntie Linh sighed dramatically.
"Alright, alright. Any drinks?"
Before Ahn Hae could decline, Leo cut in enthusiastically. "Yes! Your best beer, please!"
He then turned to Ahn Hae with a mischievous grin.
"We have to celebrate our first meeting, right?"
But… Leo, you're a K-pop idol!
Ahn Hae glanced over at the production crew sitting at a nearby table, expecting them to intervene. Instead, they gave her a thumbs-up, as if saying, Go for it!
Realizing she had no way out, Ahn Hae gave in. She took out a napkin and wiped down the utensils—a habit ingrained since childhood whenever she dined with others. Once satisfied, she handed them to Leo, only to be met with his puzzled expression. It was then she realized that this habit might seem strange to foreigners.
"Sorry, I did it out of habit."
She awkwardly retracted her hands, but Leo was quicker. He took the utensils from her and casually brushed aside any worries she had.
"It's okay. It just reminded me of my mom—she used to do the same thing when we traveled together."
A simple remark, yet it brought a fleeting sadness to Leo's eyes.
"… I'm sorry…" Ahn Hae lowered her gaze apologetically.
But Leo, ever the professional, quickly regained his composure and gave her a reassuring smile.
"You don't have to be. It was a long time ago."
Just then, uncle Hai arrived with two cold beers, saving Ahn Hae from further awkwardness.
"Here you go!"
"Thank you, uncle!" Both Ahn Hae and Leo said in unison, bowing slightly.
The sound of the can opening was oddly satisfying. Ahn Hae turned back to Leo, who was already handing her a can he had just opened. Hers even had a straw in it. Such a small gesture, yet incredibly thoughtful. Moments like these were why she admired him so much.
She accepted it with a smile. Without hesitation, she raised her can, and in her excitement, instinctively blurted out:
"Dô!"
"… Yo?!"
Leo's confused face was priceless. Ahn Hae chuckled and quickly explained.
"In my country, it means cheers."
Leo mimicked her, albeit clumsily.
"Yooo!"
His exaggerated pronunciation made her burst into laughter.
"Did I get it right?"
"Perfect! If this moment makes it into the final cut, your Vietnamese fans will probably declare you their national husband!"
The mere thought of how his fans would react had Ahn Hae even more excited for the episode to air.
Before long, their steaming bowls of pho and bún bò Huế arrived, the fragrant steam rising between them, momentarily obscuring their faces. In this crisp autumn night, nothing could compare to hot soup paired with a refreshing cold beer.
"You know how to eat pho, right?" Ahn Hae nudged the condiments tray toward Leo.
But he sheepishly smiled. "It's been so long, I don't really remember."
Without saying much, Ahn Hae reached for the herb basket, picking out fresh greens while asking, "Do you eat cilantro?"
"As long as it's not too strong."
"Then I'll just add bean sprouts for you."
"Thanks."
After prepping the herbs, she moved to the condiments. "Do you like chili sate?"
"A little. I can't handle too much spice."
"And fermented soybean sauce? A bit of lime?"
Leo nodded.
Watching Ahn Hae carefully squeeze the lime, making sure no seeds fell in, Leo felt a warm wave of nostalgia. Was it her kindness that moved him, or was it that he saw his mother in her? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that in this moment, sitting beside Ahn Hae, his heart felt at peace.
For the first time in a long while.
And just like that, they ate, completely absorbed in their meal, momentarily forgetting about the cameras. The crew, seeing how immersed they were, decided to turn this into a silent mukbang segment.
A late-night meal, rich in both calories and warmth.
* * *