Reborn as a Prophet in a Horror Movie

#125Reader Mode

#125

Wasn’t that social media app Florence was always glued to also called White Star? Come to think of it, it was.

After breaking up with Gilbert, Florence had developed this odd habit of bugging Seojun to pick the best photo from her phone gallery. It wasn’t about chasing likes or obsessing over influencer drama—she couldn’t care less about that stuff. All she wanted was for her pictures to look good, plain and simple.

Seojun’s reply was characteristically deadpan. “The internet has scarred me in ways I’ll probably never get over.”

The kind of statement you’d expect from someone who’d nuked their life with one spectacularly bad internet search. To anyone unaware of his backstory, though, it probably sounded either overly dramatic or just downright bizarre.

Leimia’s eyebrows knitted together as she studied him, her expression flipping between confused and annoyed, like he was seriously mixing up dreams and reality. Her lips pressed into a frown so sharp and bitter it could’ve been toxic.

But then her glower relaxed. She reached for a napkin, her glittery nails snagging the light as they scraped across the paper. Her sharp eyes narrowed like she was readying herself for a battle of wits.

“So, you’re saying you have no idea who I am? Or Camry?”

Seojun hesitated, caught between being honest and being polite. The socially acceptable answer felt like a trap. “I mean, we did just introduce ourselves, so it’s not like I don’t know you…”

It had been, what, an hour since they’d exchanged names? Pretending he didn’t know her at all seemed unnecessarily rude. But the way his eye darted awkwardly to the side didn’t exactly help. Leimia tore the napkin in half with a vicious rip. She stared at him with a mix of pity and disbelief, like he was a caveman who’d never seen a smartphone.

“Figures. If you’re not on White Star, that makes sense. But Philly F? Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Philly F. Or Usher?”

Seojun blinked. “Philly F?”

He was about to flat-out deny it, but something held him back. The name had been popping up lately – just enough to make him second-guess himself, like an itch at the back of his brain he couldn’t quite reach.

Leimia’s nails ripped the napkin into shreds. “Ugh, whatever. What’s even the point of talking to bumpkin so out of touch?”

The “out of touch” bumpkin couldn’t really argue with that. He just looked out the window, pretending the forest outside was interesting. The silence that followed was intensely awkward—for him, at least. Leimia didn’t seem to notice or care. She pulled out her phone and started texting like a speed demon, her fingers flying across the screen.

“Seriously? No signal here?”

She glared at her phone like she could will it to work. Inside, outside, it didn’t matter – dead zone. With a frustrated groan, she slammed her foot under the table. The sudden thump startled Oliver, who’d been quietly nursing his drink at a nearby table. He jumped so hard that even Seojun felt secondhand embarrassment.

Seojun glanced at the empty seats scattered around the restaurant. Maybe it was time to subtly suggest she take her… energy elsewhere. Before he could find a polite way to say it, a woman with a powerful presence approached their table.

She wore a spotless white chef’s jacket that stretched across her broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to show forearms that looked like they could crush walnuts. Her thick, auburn hair was pulled back neatly, and her sharp, bright eyes sparkled with warmth and authority.

She beamed at Seojun, her smile as warm as the first rays of sunshine on a weekend morning.

“Here you go – the Alice Special Waffle Set, mushroom soup, and fresh OJ!” she announced, her voice bright and full, practically echoing through the room.

Effortlessly balancing the tray with one hand, she set the dishes down in front of him. The mouthwatering scent of buttery waffles and savory mushroom soup wafted up, the steam curling lazily in the air. Seojun’s stomach rumbled.

“Dig in! Dig in! Gotta eat ‘em hot! Cold waffles are just sad.”

A booming voice yelled from the kitchen.

“Wendrick, your cooking’s the best, as always!”

The woman – Wendrick, it seemed – rolled her eyes, but her laugh was full of fondness. “Oh, hush you! Don’t mind him. He’s always like that.”

“Anything for you, my queen!”

Wendrick shook her head, still smiling, as she adjusted the tray on her hip.

So, this was the great chef behind the restaurant’s famous dishes. The owner’s constant bragging about his wife suddenly made perfect sense. Judging by the amazing mix of sweet and savory smells coming from his plate, Seojun was convinced. He picked up his fork, the warm steam making his mouth water, and decided maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

A glossy waffle sat centered on a white plate, a red crown logo stamped proudly beneath it. The waffle’s caramel coating shimmered under the warm light. A perfectly round scoop of ice cream perched on top, surrounded by blueberries that sparkled like tiny sapphires against the golden caramel. Two syrups – one dark and decadent, the other light and creamy – were drizzled artfully across the plate.

Even the mushroom soup, which Seojun had been a little unsure about, looked amazing. Thick and creamy, it filled a bowl, steam rising in soft, mesmerizing swirls that smelled intensely earthy. Next to it, a glass of fresh orange juice glistened with condensation, promising a burst of cool citrus. The whole meal looked like it belonged in a food blog – so perfect it almost felt wrong to eat it.

Almost.

As Seojun eyed the soup, his stomach grumbled loudly again. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. It was impossible to ignore the growls as his stomach tightened. He licked his lips, ready to dig in.

But before Wendrick had even fully turned away from the table, Leimia casually reached for his orange juice.

Her long, glittery nails tapped against the glass with a sharp click. Without even looking at him, she lifted the glass and took one long, unapologetic gulp.

Maybe it was the aggressive slurping, but nearly half the juice vanished in seconds. Seojun stared at her, completely floored.

Leimia, naturally, remained utterly unbothered. She set the glass down with a satisfied sigh, dabbing her lips like she’d just done him a huge favor. She tilted her head up, daring him to object, and grabbed the menu.

Tapping it twice with her finger, she said, “I’ll take these two. Both with diet Cokes. And since I’m posting this on White Star, make sure the plating is on point.”

“Absolutely, ma’am!” Wendrick’s voice was just as cheerful as before as she took the menu. “Just a moment, please. Our Alice Special burger is truly something special.” With a warm smile, she headed back to the kitchen, her sunny energy lingering even after she was gone.

The second Wendrick was out of earshot, Leimia slid the orange juice glass back to Seojun. With half of it gone, the remaining juice looked pitiful.

“It’s way too sweet. Definitely not real orange juice. Probably, like, 2% juice concentrate in sugar water.”

“You drank my juice… just to analyze the ingredients?”

Seojun stared at her, a mix of annoyed and strangely impressed. For some inexplicable reason, Leimia looked incredibly pleased with herself, practically smirking as she plucked the straw out of the glass.

“Hmph! That’s what Camry’s first White Star video was all about. Guessing food ingredients blindfolded.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I did one too.”

“Right…”

Deciding this conversation was a waste of energy, Seojun ate a spoonful of mushroom soup and let the warmth spread through him. It wasn’t quite the same comforting feeling as a bowl of gukbap, but the heat in his stomach helped ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

Leimia, noticing his lukewarm responses, frowned in annoyance. Still, she plowed ahead with the one-sided conversation. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she lowered her voice like she was about to spill the biggest secret of the year.

“You probably missed it since you got here late, but those two guys sitting behind me? Totally a couple. Can you believe it? I bet the handsome guy is being blackmailed or something. Seriously.”

Seojun didn’t have a chance to reply before the taller of the two men, Hugh, stood up. As if on cue to validate Leimia’s wild theory, Hugh leaned down and kissed the back of Oliver’s bandaged hand. Even with the bulky bandages, the tenderness between them was obvious.

Unfortunately for Seojun, he had a perfect view of their lovey-dovey exchange, thanks to the low-backed chairs. Hugh’s overly sweet voice carried across the room.

“My cute Oliver, I’ll be right back. Just popping to the restroom. Be good and wait for me, okay?”

Oliver, clearly embarrassed, set his drink down with shaky hands. A deep blush crept up his cheeks as he stammered, “Y-You better not be long.”

Hugh reached out, tracing his fingers along Oliver’s arm. Then, with a wink that could have launched a thousand ships, he added, “We’ll see. You know how long I can take… as long as you like it, that is.”

What the hell is he even talking about?

Seojun, who had been enduring their interaction with the same level of excitement as someone on hold with customer service, suddenly noticed something that instantly darkened his mood: the used straw was back in his orange juice.

His internal grumbling was cut short by Leimia’s intense gaze, following Hugh as he sauntered towards the restroom like he was walking on a runway. There was a strange glint in her eyes – a competitive spark, as if she’d decided to one-up Hugh at… whatever that was.

Just as Hugh disappeared from view, another figure arrived, perfectly timed, like they’d been taking turns. Camry appeared, daintily wiping her hands on a handkerchief. Without any hesitation, she slid into the seat next to Leimia, effortlessly joining them.

Seojun just stared as yet another unwanted person joined his table.

“What were you guys talking about?”

“Listen to this Camry! This guy claims he has no idea who we are!”

Leimia’s sneer was practically radioactive, laced with just enough condescension to make Seojun reconsider every decision he’d ever made. He watched, slightly impressed, as she managed to pack an entire semester’s worth of disdain into a single syllable.

“Really?” Camry looked genuinely indifferent as she carefully folded her handkerchief. She ran her thumb thoughtfully along her bottom lip before adding,

“…I guess it’s possible. We’re not exactly Philly F-level famous.”

That name again. Seojun was starting to think this Philly F must be some kind of mega-celebrity. But his knowledge of pop culture – especially actors or comedians – was shaky at best, so he had nothing to contribute. Luckily, Camry didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer.

Taking one of the bags from Leimia, Camry rummaged through it with her plain, unpolished fingers and pulled out her phone.

“Ugh, still no signal. Seriously? Why is the reception so terrible here?”

Camry clicked her tongue and set the phone down on the table. Then, with a quick swipe of her hand, she cleared away the shredded napkin remnants Leimia had left behind. Her chestnut hair fell smoothly over her shoulder as she tilted her head slightly.

“What did you order, Leimia?”

“I’m a bit hungry, so two Alice Special burgers.”

“Diet Cokes?”

“Diet Cokes.”

Their easy conversation flowed like they could read each other’s minds.

Why does my table suddenly feel like Grand Central Station?

Seojun, silently mourning the loss of his peaceful meal, turned his attention back to his waffle. This table was supposed to be a quiet haven where he could eat in peace. Now, it felt more like a chaotic group project he hadn’t signed up for.

Stuffing his cheeks like a squirrel preparing for winter, he focused on cutting into the caramel-drizzled waffle with a determined intensity, hoping to send a clear I’m eating, please don’t talk to me signal.

Camry, meanwhile, idly played with her phone until something on the table caught her eye. Her voice suddenly perked up with excitement.

“Oh! Is that keychain Pippi who had her SmallLine Chainsaw taken away?”

“Huh?”

Seojun blinked, swallowing quickly to avoid choking. He followed her gaze, confused, as she tapped her finger twice on the table, pointing at his wallet.

“Wow, I haven’t seen one of those in ages! It’s from the Pippi Pepe series.”

“The… Pippi Pepe series? What even is that?” Leimia frowned, looking just as puzzled as Seojun by the weird name.

“It sounds like, pepperoni pizza or something,” Leimia scoffed. “Seriously, what kind of name is that?” She reached into her bag and pulled out a white container, twisting the lid with a rattling sound that suggested vitamins or pills.

Camry’s expression shifted from mild surprise to a bright smile.

“You’ve really never heard of it, Leimia? It was a massive thing when we were kids. I bet kids still love it. It’s totally retro.”

“Hmm…”

Despite Camry’s enthusiastic explanation, Leimia clearly had no memory of it. This fact seemed to only fuel her naturally confrontational personality. Her brow furrowed like she’d taken personal offense to not knowing something.

Then, without a word of warning, Leimia snatched Seojun’s wallet from the table and grabbed the teddy bear keychain attached to it.

“Let me have a look at this.”

“Hey!” Seojun’s voice rose sharply, his spoon clattering against the bowl as he instinctively reached out. His peaceful meal had already been hijacked enough without someone stealing his belongings.

But before he could get his wallet back, the chairs under Leimia and Camry were jolted violently as something slammed into them.

“You think I didn’t see you staring at Alice like some creep?! Huh?!”

The source of the shout was the massive, muscular, boyish man. He was standing at the table just behind them, his face twisted in anger as he pointed a furious finger at a pale, shaking Oliver.

“Th-That’s not what happened! I swear!”