The neon glow of an isolated diner flickers in the night, an invitation and a warning. Inside, a Chef with knowing eyes and an unclean apron serves more than just meals—he offers something deeper, something that lingers on the soul long after the last bite. Those who walk through the door come for revenge, for absolution, for something they can’t name. But every dish has a price, and once served, there’s no sending it back.
A bitter office worker orders a meal to get back at his cruel boss, only to find that the revenge doesn’t play out the way he imagined—it’s messier, darker, and somehow implicates him in ways he doesn’t understand. As he visits the diner repeatedly, he begins to suspect that the Chef isn’t just cooking food—he’s feeding on something intangible and precious from his customers.
Diner is a chilling descent into the consequences of desire, the weight of regret, and the inescapable hunger for something more. When the meal is finished, the only question that remains is—was it worth it?