When Gyeol came out after his shower, he found Isu Yoon lying face-down on the bed, reading a book with only a dim mood lamp turned on.
“Isu, aren’t you sleeping?”
“Oh. I was waiting to talk to you before bed.”
He closed the book, pushing himself upright and sitting neatly on the bed.
“How’s your ankle?”
“Thankfully, it seems like just a minor twist.”
Isu rotated his ankle once, the patch still stuck to it, as if to show him.
“That’s a relief.”
Gyeol answered sincerely as he sat on the opposite bed. As if he had been waiting for him to settle, Isu immediately changed the subject.
“Who did you choose?”
“...What?”
“For your first impression. Who did you pick?”
He’s coming in that directly?
Gyeol hesitated.
It wasn’t unusual for participants of the same secondary gender to share their feelings. Sometimes they grew closer through it, building friendships that continued even after filming ended.
For example, the Omega pair from R-Connect 7 hadn’t ended up with Alphas, yet their strong friendship had won viewers over. They’d gone on to shoot pictorials together and even release an album, continuing to thrive.
If I use it well, it could work in my favor. But...
There was a risk.
If they happened to want the same Alpha.
“Shattered friendships,” where people started off close but drifted apart—or even began talking behind each other’s backs after choosing the same person—were a staple of provocative editing. It damaged both sides’ reputations.
Gyeol looked at Isu, who was watching him with clear, open eyes.
So far, his image wasn’t bad—but there hadn’t been enough time to truly understand what kind of person he was. Now that they were sharing a room, and Gyeol had already begun building a positive image with him by giving up victory in the game, he needed to be careful.
Moreover, on the first day, he had been too focused on establishing his own image to observe which Alphas the other Omegas were interested in. He had no idea who Isu liked.
“Are we allowed to talk about that?”
Gyeol already knew the answer was yes. He’d seen countless past R-Connect participants share it.
Still, he asked deliberately, as if being cautious—a strategic retreat. Showing respect for the program’s rules was also a good look.
He just hoped Isu would pick up on his intention.
Let’s not do this on the first day. Let’s take it slow. Let’s talk about something else.
“It should be fine, right? If it’s awkward for you to go first, I’ll tell you mine.”
That’s not what I meant. Seriously.
His head started to throb. Make a note of this—Isu has no sense of subtlety.
He couldn’t exactly cover his mouth. What was he supposed to do? His thoughts spun—and Isu spoke anyway.
“I chose Jun Shin.”
What?
“Ah—don’t look at me like that! I didn’t choose him just because I was a SAVE ME fan. Really!”
I wasn’t looking at you like anything. And what kind of look is that supposed to be?
Gyeol smiled at Isu, who buried his reddening face in both hands.
“I didn’t think that. Wow... I see. You chose Jun Shin.”
Since Isu had volunteered the explanation himself, Gyeol now knew the reasoning behind it too.
Was he really a SAVE ME fan? Well... he did ask from the beginning if Jun and I knew each other. And he’s been acting familiar toward me... There’s a pattern.
“Well... I did hesitate. But earlier, he came to check on my injury and took care of me.”
Either way, Gyeol felt relieved.
Jun Shin. No matter how Season 10 unfolded, from beginning to end, Gyeol absolutely, no matter what, did not want to get entangled with him.
As long as Isu’s feelings were directed at Jun Shin, there would be no conflict with Gyeol.
That was good.
Gyeol smiled easily and nodded.
“Jun does have a considerate side.”
It was the truth. Jun Shin had always been someone who took care of others well. He had once been the pillar that held the team together.
“Exactly. I was really touched today. By both of you—Jun and you. It feels like my feelings back when I liked SAVE ME weren’t wrong...”
I wish he’d stop talking about that.
As expected, Isu lacked tact. Gyeol rested his chin on his hand, nodding along as he listened to Isu chatter brightly. It seemed he just wanted to talk about his own choice—he didn’t actually care about Gyeol’s.
“Ah, I think I talked too much about myself.”
After rambling for a while, Isu fanned himself with his hand and smiled sheepishly, his eyes crinkling. His face was neat and pretty.
What was Jun Shin’s type again...
“I told you mine, so now you have to tell me. Who did you choose?”
“I chose...”
***
For the brunch date, Sun Choi has chosen Gyeol Go.
Matched couples, please proceed to enjoy your brunch date.
If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve picked a different Alpha instead of Sun Choi.
“Hello, Gyeol.”
“Hello. Good morning.”
Of all people, Sun Choi—who even had a brunch date ticket—had chosen him.
“The sunlight is quite strong. You should sit inside, Gyeol.”
“Ah, thank you. Um... it looks like you’ll get too much sun too. Let’s do this—let’s pull the chairs in a bit.”
“Thank you. You’re very considerate.”
The previous night, Gyeol’s first impression choice had been Sun Choi, the former national swimmer.
Naturally, it wasn’t because he genuinely liked him. It had simply seemed like the safest option.
Sun Choi was blunt. He quietly held his place but didn’t approach the Omegas or start conversations. Although some Omegas had subtly shown interest after he won first place in the Alpha team match, he had only responded briefly.
The Omegas quickly lost interest. Even as the others worked to break the ice and bond, Sun Choi remained on the outskirts. He hadn’t spoken to Gyeol either—not even a glance.
“I’ll cut the French toast for you.”
That was why Gyeol had chosen him.
There was no need to create unnecessary tension with other Omegas from the start, and he also wanted to avoid a mutual match right away.
“Thank you. Would you like iced Americano or orange juice?”
But apparently, every Alpha had chosen him.
Which meant Sun Choi had also chosen Gyeol.
“I only drink black coffee in the morning to avoid blood sugar spikes.”
“Ah. Blood sugar spikes.”
Which meant that, out of all the Alphas who chose Gyeol, the one Gyeol had picked was Sun Choi.
And now, on top of that, they were having a brunch date in the morning—making it an unavoidably attention-grabbing match.
This was a mistake. Who could’ve predicted this? I just need to do better from now on.
Swallowing his frustration, Gyeol set the iced Americano in front of him.
Meanwhile, Sun Choi, who had been diligently cutting the French toast, let out a sigh and set his utensils down.
“But if you eat French toast, the blood sugar spike is inevitable anyway—pfft.”
He couldn’t finish his sentence. Gyeol covered his mouth, laughing without meaning to.
The French toast had been reduced to a disaster.
“...I’ve spent my life only exercising.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh.”
But the laughter kept slipping out.
What had looked delicious moments ago now looked like it was begging for mercy. It had been torn apart in every direction, and the ice cream on top had melted into the raspberry jam, creating something almost grotesque.
“Ah, I’m really sorry. I—”
“Just laugh...”
In the end, Gyeol burst out laughing.
A large, well-built Alpha with such a serious face had turned French toast into a crime scene—it was absurdly funny. Then why did you insist on cutting it yourself?
“What on earth did you do to this French toast?”
“...I didn’t mean to kill it.”
The tips of Sun Choi’s ears were red.
Oh? That’s kind of cute.
A playful impulse rose up. Putting on an exaggeratedly sorrowful expression, Gyeol said,
“I feel bad for the French toast.”
“....”
“It’s so pitiful I can’t eat it.”
“...Are you going to keep teasing me?”
Sun Choi actually stammered. His charcoal-dark eyebrows drooped into a helpless shape.
At that point, he looked like a big dog.
A dejected large dog.
“Ah, I’m sorry. It’s just such a masterpiece. I almost want to take a picture.”
After laughing to his heart’s content, Gyeol took a sip of orange juice. The sweet drink cooled his throat pleasantly.
Sun Choi stabbed a collapsed piece of French toast with his fork and held it out to him. His expression was stiff and serious—clearly tense.
Gyeol let out another laugh as he lowered his head—
and took the French toast into his mouth.
Clink.
Sun Choi dropped his fork.
Oh?
At the same time, Gyeol noticed the staff all wearing pleased expressions.
...Wait. Damn. This isn’t right.
“I—I’m sorry. I thought you were feeding me.”
It was a habit from raising a child.
Yuli would sometimes poke food onto a fork and hold it out, saying, “Dad, ah—.”
The habit of accepting food from the child had come out without him realizing it.
Now Sun Choi’s ears were burning red.
“Su-Sun Choi? Are you okay? You look overheated.”
“You made me hot.”
“...What?”
“You made me hot.”
Sun Choi declared firmly, then lifted the iced Americano and downed the entire glass in one go. Then he stuffed three pieces of French toast into his mouth in quick succession, chewing and swallowing.
“You said you were avoiding blood sugar spikes.”
“This is a moment that requires one.”
“What are you even saying?”
“I’m experiencing a blood sugar spike because of you.”
“Ah, this is insane. You’re unexpectedly funny.”
Gyeol burst out laughing again.
He really was funny. I thought he was just stiff, but he’s actually awkward.
The date he hadn’t expected much from turned out to be quite enjoyable. Time flew by as he teased Sun Choi, laughed, and joked around.
The brunch date has ended.
Pheromone matching will now begin.
All participants, please gather in front of the pheromone booth.