Few Days Later,
Chicago, Illinois, USA
Since the morning, heavy snow had been falling, but by the afternoon, it finally showed signs of letting up.
Inside a small office of the Annenberg Challenge Foundation, located in a downtown building, Barrack Obama sat at his desk with his shirt sleeves rolled up, diligently working.
Having always been passionate about social activism, Barrack Obama had served as legal counsel for the Chicago Forest Fund before becoming the chairman of the newly established Annenberg Challenge Foundation earlier this year. His new role had only intensified his dedication to this field.
Standing over 187 cm tall, with a lean yet solid build, Obama picked up one of the many docunts stacked on his desk and began reading it carefully. His expression showed deep concentration, characteristic of his background as a lawyer—missing even a single sentence was not an option.
Without taking his eyes off the docunt, he reached out for the mug on his desk, bringing it to his lips. As he tilted it, he realized it was already empty. Clicking his tongue in slight frustration, he muttered,
"When did I finish this?"
Looking at the dried coffee stains at the bottom of the cup, he guessed it had been quite so ti.
"It's already this late?"
A glance at his wristwatch told him it was past 4 PM. Engrossed in reviewing the docunts, he had completely lost track of ti.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door, followed by Edryn, a foundation staff mber, who peeked in and asked,
"Are you busy right now?"
"Oh, no. What's going on?"
"It's nothing urgent, but you have a visitor."
"A visitor?"
Obama raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He hadn't scheduled any etings.
"They said they're a junior from Harvard."
Obama tilted his head slightly, wondering who would drop by so unexpectedly. After all, he had graduated from Columbia University and only attended Harvard for law school.
Then, a face suddenly ca to mind. Looking up at Edryn, he asked,
"Where are they now?"
"They're waiting in the consultation room. Should I bring them here?"
"Yes, please."
"Just a mont."
Not long after, Edryn returned, and behind him followed a familiar face.
"Well, look who it is! It's been a long ti."
Rising from his seat and stepping around his desk, Obama greeted Seok-won with a bright smile, extending his hand first.
Seok-won also smiled warmly as he shook Obama's hand.
"It's been over a year since we last t after graduation."
"Ti really flies, doesn't it?"
As Obama marveled at how quickly ti had passed, he gestured toward the sofa in his office.
"I can't have an esteed guest standing around. Please, have a seat."
Although he held the title of chairman, his office was modest, as befitted a nonprofit foundation. The entire space was barely four square ters, furnished only with a simple desk, a bookshelf packed with docunts and books, and a four-seater sofa—far from luxurious.
Once the two n sat facing each other on the sofa, Edryn cheerfully asked,
"What would you like to drink?"
"Coffee will do."
"Perfect timing—I was just thinking about having a cup myself. Make it two, strong, please."
"Got it!"
With a bright response, Edryn exited the room.
"It's a bit belated, but congratulations on becoming the foundation's chairman."
Obama, who had just crossed one leg over the other, let out a hearty laugh and waved his hand dismissively.
"Co on, it's not that grand. Sure, I have the chairman title, but the entire foundation consists of just four employees, including . It's a tiny nonprofit."
"Regardless of its size, leading an organization ans you've earned recognition from others."
"Haha, is that so?"
Obama replied with a slightly bashful yet pleased expression.
At that mont, Edryn returned, knocking before stepping in with a tray. He placed two cups of coffee in front of them.
"Enjoy!"
After the red-haired, lively Edryn left, Seok-won chuckled and asked,
"Is he your secretary?"
"He's a foundation staff mber. Like I said, we only have four people. So, most of the ti, he handles administrative work, but when guests arrive, he takes on the role of a secretary, serving drinks and such."
"I see."
Seok-won picked up his mug and took a sip. Almost instantly, his eyes widened in surprise.
"Wait, is this instant coffee?"
"You recognized it right away."
Obama grinned in satisfaction.
"After trying the Korean coffee mix you gifted
last ti, I really liked it. So, I checked out a Korean grocery store here in Chicago and found the exact sa brand. I've been keeping it stocked ever since."
Taking a small sip, Obama leaned back, his expression relaxed.
"It's smooth and just the right amount of sweet. I like it in general, but especially when I'm tired and craving sothing sugary—it's perfect."
"It seems to suit your taste more than I expected."
"Absolutely. Even the office staff love it. We've stocked up several boxes in the pantry."
"If you liked it that much, you should've told . I could've sent so from Korea."
"No need for that—I don't want to trouble you. I can just buy it from the Korean market here."
"Not at all. When I return to Korea, I'll send you so myself."
"Haha… Well, in that case, I'll gladly enjoy it. Thanks!"
Judging by how Obama didn't bother refusing, it was clear he truly liked the instant coffee mix.
From Professor Frank to Barrack Obama—
Sohow, Seok-won felt like he had beco an unofficial ambassador for sweet Korean instant coffee.
'At this rate, even if he beco president and move into the White House, he might still be drinking this stuff.'
He imagined him sitting on the White House office sofa, deep in discussion with advisors about global affairs—all while sipping Korean instant coffee. The thought nearly made him burst into laughter, but he held it in.
'If that ever happens, I should buy stocks in Korean coffee mix companies beforehand.'
After all, in his previous life, a certain spicy stir-fried ran had taken the world by storm, causing its company's stock price to skyrocket by nearly 300%. Who was to say history wouldn't repeat itself?
Lost in his thoughts, Seok-won snapped back to reality when Obama spoke, prompting him to set down his mug.
"I was actually planning to call you. I saw that you recently donated a million dollars to the Annenberg Challenge Foundation."
"So you already knew."
"Well, as the chairman of the foundation, I couldn't possibly be unaware of such a large donation."
Seok-won replied nonchalantly,
"I've always been interested in education issues. When I heard you had taken on the role of chairman, I figured I'd contribute in any way I could."
The Chicago Annenberg Challenge, where Barrack Obama served as its founding chairman, was a nonprofit organization dedicated to education reform in the Chicago area.
By subtly emphasizing that his donation was specifically because of Obama's involvent, Seok-won made his gratitude even more evident.
"A million dollars is no small amount. And after your support for the Chicago Forest Fund, now you're helping the Annenberg Challenge, too. I'm truly grateful."
"No need to ntion it. Honestly, with the way you keep thanking , I'm starting to feel a little embarrassed."
"I an it. Your donation is a huge help to our foundation."
"Well then, since it's almost dinner ti, how about you buy
a al?"
Obama flashed his characteristic warm smile and responded,
"Of course. When our generous donor wants a al, I'll make ti no matter what."
"Are you going to keep this up?"
"Haha, I'm just teasing. There's a fantastic place that serves amazing xican food—I'll take you there."
"Really? Where is it?"
It had been a while since Seok-won arrived in the U.S., and he was beginning to crave sothing spicy. His curiosity was instantly piqued.
Seeing Seok-won's eager expression, Obama grinned and said,
"My house."
"...What?"
"Michelle recently learned how to cook xican food. She makes incredible burritos and tacos."
Seok-won, caught off guard by the sudden invitation, hesitated.
"Wouldn't it be rude to just drop by unannounced?"
"It's fine. You've t Michelle a few tis before, haven't you?"
"Well, yes, but still..."
Seok-won trailed off.
Honestly, he didn't particularly care where he had dinner.
Despite his refined appearance—one that suggested he only dined at high-end restaurants—he had no qualms about eating from street vendors or small food stalls.
His real concern was that Obama might get an earful from his wife later for bringing ho an unexpected guest.
'I'd rather not be the reason a future U.S. president and First Lady get into an argunt.'
Yet, whether Obama was oblivious to the concern or just doubling down on his pride, he added,
"Michelle's off today and resting at ho, so this is perfect timing."
Hearing that, Seok-won thought to himself,
'Isn't inviting guests over on soone's day off even worse?'
He couldn't understand why Obama insisted on taking him ho for dinner when they could just eat out.
"Well, since we're talking about it, let's head over now."
As Obama stood up from the couch, Seok-won, growing increasingly anxious, quickly interjected.
"Shouldn't you at least call her first?"
"We can do that on the way."
Obama's casual response made Seok-won internally grimace.
'Is he trying to get himself kicked out of his own house?'
The ntal image of Obama sleeping on the office couch under a thin blanket made Seok-won seriously reconsider whether he should go along with this.
Completely unaware of Seok-won's concerns, Obama was already ushering him toward the door.
"We need to leave now before traffic gets bad."
Realizing he had no choice, Seok-won reluctantly stood up with a deep sigh.
'In dramas, guys like him always end up dragging their friends ho only to get scolded by their wives and thrown out...'
Knowing Michelle's refined personality, she wouldn't lash out in front of guests.
But Seok-won couldn't help but worry about what Obama would face after he left.
As he watched Obama cheerfully prepare to leave—rolling down his sleeves, grabbing his coat, practically humming a tune—Seok-won suddenly felt resigned to his fate.
'Oh well, not my problem.'
It was Obama's decision, so he could deal with the consequences himself.
"Just rember, this was your idea, senior. I don't mind either way."
"Of course! No problem at all."
Seok-won gave him a look as if to say, "Don't forget you said that."
At the sa ti, though, he couldn't deny he was slightly looking forward to a al prepared by a future First Lady.
***
Late morning.
The sky was overcast, hinting at the possibility of more snow.
Inside the elegantly decorated hotel lobby, a café was bustling with guests and people eting for appointnts. Nearly every table was occupied.
Dressed in a crisp white shirt and a perfectly tailored suit, Seok-won sat alone at a window seat, leisurely sipping his coffee while watching the scenery outside.
"I'm not late, am I?"
At the sound of the familiar voice, Seok-won turned his head.
Standing there with a bright smile, his white teeth visible, was Obama, wearing a gray coat.
"Right on ti."
As Obama took the empty seat across from him, a waiter approached and placed a nu on the table.
"Would you like to order?"
"A café latte with plenty of milk, please."
"Just a mont, sir."
Once the waiter left, Obama asked in a cheerful tone,
"Did you sleep well last night?"
"Yes. But weren't you scolded by your wife for bringing an unexpected guest ho?"
"Why? Were you worried I'd get in trouble?"
"Of course. We showed up out of nowhere—Michelle must have been completely caught off guard."
Seok-won could still picture Michelle's bewildered expression when they arrived, her face practically screaming, "xican food? Out of the blue?"
Obama, however, simply waved it off.
"Don't worry. As you saw yesterday, Michelle was really happy to see you. And she absolutely loved the mother-of-pearl jewelry box you gave her. She told
to be sure to thank you."
Since Seok-won had planned to et Obama on this trip to the U.S., he had prepared a special gift—a lacquered jewelry box crafted by a master artisan of traditional Korean najeonchilgi (mother-of-pearl inlay).
"I'm glad she liked it."
Obama didn't seem to notice, but Seok-won had caught it—the way Michelle's sharp, dagger-like glare at her husband had softened the instant she laid eyes on the jewelry box.
If he hadn't brought that gift, Obama might have actually been kicked out of his own house last night.
"When did you even prepare sothing like that? You sure know how to win over a woman's heart. Are you secretly a playboy?"
Seok-won chuckled.
"Not at all."
Seok-won chuckled and shook his head.
At the sa ti, he felt relieved that their unexpected visit hadn't left a bad impression on Michelle, the future First Lady.
'There's nothing scarier than pillow talk. It wouldn't do
any good to get on Michelle's bad side.'
Just then, their conversation was briefly interrupted as the waiter arrived with the drinks.
"Here's your order."
After placing the café latte on the table, the waiter stepped away, and Obama spoke again.
"You're leaving Chicago today, right?"
"Yes."
"It's a sha you're not staying a little longer."
Obama genuinely seed disappointed—it wasn't just polite small talk.
Last night's dinner, drinking, and lively conversation had clearly made him feel even closer to Seok-won.
Seok-won, who had been leaning back in his chair, straightened his posture and looked at Obama seriously.
"There's sothing I'd like to ask. Can you answer
honestly?"
Obama raised an eyebrow playfully.
"You're making such a serious face—I'm almost scared to hear the question."
At first, he tried to brush it off as a joke, but when Seok-won remained silent and held his gaze, Obama realized this was sothing important.
His expression shifted, the humor fading.
"Go ahead. What is it?"
Seok-won, now speaking in a slightly lower tone, asked,
"Have you ever seriously considered going into politics?"
Obama's eyes widened in surprise.
"...!"
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