For a Hungry Omega

Haon hadn’t planned on living in that house for long at first.

He’d only intended to stay a few months because there were no vacancies at the nearby Omega-only goshiwon. But after a month or two, he realized there wasn’t any particular issue with the place, and the incredibly low rent ended up winning him over. He ended up staying for a year and a half.

A year and a half. It had already been well over a year since Haon came to Seoul. Of the three years he’d promised to spend here with Seong-gu hyung—and himself—he had now completed exactly half.

During that not-so-short stretch of time, Haon did nothing but work.

Work, get sick, work again, and get sick again.

It was a cycle of gloomy, grinding routine, but he didn’t wallow in misery. He hadn’t come to Seoul with lofty ambitions in the first place. His biggest goal had always been simple: to earn money.

Haon worked every single day, weekdays and weekends alike, without rest, cutting down every expense he possibly could. He barely had any material or culinary desires, so frugality had become second nature.

There were months when he spent as little as 10,000 won (approx. $7) on food—and even that went to bottled water. He’d grab quick bites while working or make do with the ramen provided at the goshiwon.

For someone like Haon, who had no interest in good food or new clothes, the only joy in life was saving money.

But every time things got busy and hectic, he had to switch workplaces, and sometimes, large chunks of money went to medical bills. So he hadn’t managed to save up much yet. That only made him more determined to work even harder in the time he had left and save as much as he possibly could—within the limits of what he was capable of.

***

When Haon arrived at the restaurant, he headed straight for the manager. He considered going to the locker room to grab his phone first, but figured it’d be better to report to the manager before doing anything else.

In the staff-only corridor, a delivery truck driver was busy hauling in fresh produce that had arrived that day.

“Oh, didn’t you quit?”

The youngest kitchen assistant, who had just received a large slab of steak meat from the driver, recognized Haon and called out to him.

There were tons of servers, and staff turnover was frequent, so people rarely remembered the faces of every new hire—but Haon had been an exception. Even if they didn’t know his name, everyone remembered his face. Not that Haon would have any idea.

Haon glanced back, unsure if the kitchen assistant was really talking to him, and gave a faint bow of his head—just a polite gesture, not an affirmation. But the assistant went on to ask what he was doing there.

“Ah… I didn’t quit.”

He left out the part about probably getting fired soon. Haon had already braced himself for being let go by the manager.

“I see! Well, hang in there!”

The assistant’s face lit up at Haon’s reply. Slinging the hefty meat over his shoulder, he walked off.

At his cheerful farewell, Haon bowed his head again.

“So polite…”

He murmured quietly to himself as he watched the kitchen assistant disappear through the entrance.

It felt nice to be remembered, even though he hadn’t worked there long. The guy had seemed a bit intimidating with his large frame, but up close, his expression was surprisingly warm and easygoing. If he could’ve stayed longer, they might’ve become friends.

Haon let out a small sigh, his steps slowing.

He’d bounced between countless part-time jobs, but it was rare to find a place where the people were this kind and welcoming. The coworkers here had been especially nice. The higher ratio of Omegas made things a lot more comfortable too.

“Yes?”

Haon’s expression blanked out as he approached the floor manager.

He had been just about to apologize and explain why he’d been absent without notice. But before he could speak, the manager interrupted him, throwing off his timing.

“I asked if you’re planning to keep working here.”

The manager, flipping through the day’s reservation list with a pen balanced between her fingers, didn’t even glance at him. She simply told him to go change into his uniform if he planned to stay.

“…I can still work here?”

Haon had fully expected to be fired.

The manager, who’d made a cold impression from the beginning, had been very firm during the interview—strictly warning him that tardiness or absenteeism wouldn’t be tolerated. She’d clearly said she’d fire anyone after even one late shift.

And he hadn’t just been late—he’d disappeared for three full days without a word. It made perfect sense to assume he was done for.

“You’re not planning to quit?”

“N-No, I’m not! I’ll do my best!”

As Haon clenched his fists and declared his determination, the manager shot him a sharp look. She stared at him for a long moment, then finally jerked her chin toward the hallway—her way of telling him to get going.

Her displeased expression lingered in his mind, but Haon was just relieved not to have been fired.

It wasn’t easy finding a decent job like this one, and the feeling of relief surged through his chest as he headed straight to the changing room.

***

Ah, thank god.

A bright smile spread across Haon’s face as he opened his personal locker and peeked inside.

His phone and wallet were right where he’d left them, and never had they looked more precious.

First, he checked the wallet—his ID and transit card were safely tucked inside. Then he counted the small stack of 1,000-won bills one by one before finally picking up his phone.

All he could think about was saving that man’s number.

It wasn’t like the number was going to vanish just because he checked it late, but for some reason, he felt antsy.

“What the… what’s wrong with this thing?”

But his phone refused to cooperate with his urgency.

“Is it the battery?”

He poked and tapped at the pitch-black screen, which had likely gone dead after being left untouched for over five days. After a while, he gave up and started changing into his uniform.

Of course the battery would’ve died by now.

But wait—would missed calls still show up even if the phone had been turned off?

A frown formed between Haon’s brows as a sudden worry crossed his mind.

What if he couldn’t save that guy’s number?

If only he had just said it out loud. Haon could’ve at least written it down somewhere—on his hand, if nothing else…

“Is something wrong?”

Startled by the unexpected voice, Haon dropped his phone with a yelp.

The kitchen assistant, who had suddenly approached, caught it in the nick of time and clutched his chest.

“Whoa, that was close! Here, take it!”

His booming voice echoed through the spacious changing room. Just like his build, his voice was loud and solid.

After handing the phone back to Haon, he casually strolled off toward his own locker on the opposite side of the room.

“Thanks for catching that,” Haon called after him.

“What for? You dropped it ‘cause I scared you.”

Scratching the back of his short-cropped hair, the assistant punched in the code to unlock his locker.

Haon, watching absentmindedly, ended up memorizing the code. It was a ridiculously simple one—four zeros in a row. There was no way not to remember it after seeing it once. Of course, if he made an effort not to think about it, he’d probably forget.

“So, is your phone acting up or something?”

The assistant glanced back at Haon as he rifled through the mess in his locker. It was still early, and the two of them were the only ones in the changing room.

“You just seemed really serious, mumbling to yourself like that. Got curious.”

“No, it’s not broken… The battery’s just dead.”

“I’ve got a portable charger. Want to borrow it?”

Haon tilted his head, puzzled, watching the assistant rummage quickly through his locker.

‘Portable charger?’

“Just use it and give it back when your shift ends.”

Without waiting for a response, the assistant shoved a silver power bank into Haon’s hands and hurried out of the room.

Haon gently closed the locker door the other had left wide open, then turned his attention to the portable charger, examining it with interest.

‘So what exactly does this thing do?’

He noticed the familiar-looking cable attached to the solid little device, and a guess began to form in his mind.

Just to test it, he plugged the cable into his phone.

To his astonishment, a charging icon immediately popped up on the once-dead screen.

“Wow…”

Haon’s eyes sparkled like he was seeing a blooming flower.

Carefully, he set the precious piece of new technology in his locker and waited for the phone to power up. Since it was an old model, it took a little time for the home screen to appear.

“It’s turning on… It’s really turning on…”

His shoulders did a tiny celebratory dance as the screen gradually brightened.

Anyone else might’ve lost their patience at the snail-like boot time, but Haon waited quietly with pure joy. This was the only phone he’d ever used—he didn’t even know it was considered slow.

The moment the default home screen appeared, he immediately opened the call log.

There were thirteen missed calls from the boss who worked weekends, and two from the floor manager. The number of unread texts from both was about the same.

Normally, that would’ve sent him into a nervous panic, squinting through each message like it might explode.

But right now, all he cared about was checking that man’s number.

“Two-thirty in the morning…”

Seeing the missed call from the man, timestamped in the middle of the night, made Haon feel even more grateful.

That someone would go out of their way to drive him home so late—without a hint of annoyance—filled him with genuine appreciation.

“Oh.”

Warmed by the thought, Haon moved to save the number first—only to accidentally dial it instead.

He quickly hit the end call button, then tossed the phone back into his locker in a fluster.

As he blinked rapidly, trying to calm down, the phone buzzed with an incoming vibration.

The man was calling him back.

Haon froze for a few seconds, then hastily cleared his throat and tapped the call button.

The moment his nervous thumb touched the screen—

“Honey—”

The phone died with a click.

A tiny flicker from the portable charger signaled that it had run out of juice.