Chapter Text
FADE IN:
EXT. FOREST – DAWN
A swirl of golden mist cuts through the trees — whispering, alive.
The air trembles. Then, a man falls from the light.
Li Heon — once the proud King of Joseon — crashes to the ground. His silk robes are ripped and blood-streaked, his crown lost somewhere back in the old times.
He stirs. Eyes flutter open to a world he does not know.
Wind rushes through the canopy. A faraway hum — electric, unnatural.
Heon stands, brushing dust from his sleeve. The forest seems still... until a voice breaks the quiet.
JOGGER
(O.S.)
Uh—sorry!
A woman in bright sportswear jogs past, earbuds in. She slows, gives him a look.
Heon straightens his torn robe.
LI HEON
Do you not kneel before your king?
She blinks. Scoffs. Keeps running.
Heon frowns, bewildered — and then hears it: the roar of engines.
He turns toward the sound and walks.
EXT. FOREST EDGE – DAY
Branches whip against Li Heon’s torn sleeves as he pushes through the undergrowth.
The air grows warmer, heavier — a faint hum of something unnatural ahead.
He stops at the edge of the trees.
Before him: a narrow slope descending into an open clearing.
He can hear distant roaring — not wind, not horses — something mechanical and alive.
He takes one cautious step forward.
The light grows brighter with every step until—
He breaks through the last line of trees.
EXT. CITY STREET – DAY
Cars roar past. Horns blare. Neon lights blink like restless spirits.
Li Heon stands frozen on the curb, robes tattered and streaked with dried blood.
A bus hisses to a stop beside him. The doors open with a whoosh.
He flinches back, hand flying instinctively to where his sword used to hang.
A small child tugs her mother’s sleeve, pointing.
The mother laughs nervously, pulling her daughter away.
Heon looks after them, dazed.
He turns in a slow circle—glittering skyscrapers on every side, giant faces smiling from billboards.
Every sound is too loud, every color too bright.
LI HEON
This… is no kingdom I know.
EXT. STREET FOOD STALL – LATE AFTERNOON
Steam coils from woks. Vendors shout prices.
The smell of fried chicken, tteokbokki, and soy sauce fills the air.
Heon’s eyes follow a sizzling pan of crispy chicken.
He presses a hand to his stomach — the growl answers for him.
At one table, a man steps away to take a call, leaving behind a heaping plate.
Heon glances left, then right.
He sits.
Picks up a drumstick.
Crunch.
OWNER
(O.S.)
Hey! What do you think you’re doing!?
Heon turns, mouth full.
LI HEON
Mind your tongue. You speak to your king.
OWNER
King, huh? Then pay like one!
Heon tilts his head, confused — then reaches into his belt pouch.
He drops a heavy gold coin onto the table.
The metal hits with a sharp, clean sound.
Everyone nearby turns to look.
The owner stares at the coin, then at Heon.
OWNER
..That’s— real?
Heon nods solemnly.
LI HEON
Gold of the palace mint.
A beat of stunned silence. Then—
OWNER
Uh… sit down. Eat. Please, Your Majesty.
INT. STREET FOOD STALL – EVENING
Heon devours food with quiet desperation — rice, fried chicken, every last side dish.
The owner, now oddly protective, pours him water.
OWNER
So, Your Majesty… you from a movie set or something?
LI HEON
Movie… set?
OWNER
Never mind.
You got a place to stay?
LI HEON
I have a palace.
OWNER
Right. Well, palace or not, I got a spare cot in the back.
You help clean up, you eat for free. Deal?
Heon pauses, then bows slightly.
LI HEON
A king must learn to serve his people.
The owner blinks, then shakes his head, amused.
INT. STAFF ROOM – EARLY MORNING
A faint buzz.
Li Heon jolts awake, startled by the sound of an electric alarm clock.
He fumbles with it, pressing every button until it finally stops.
He squints toward the window. Gray light filters through blinds.
Outside, the city hums — buses, chatter, the rhythm of another day.
He sits up slowly, hair disheveled, blanket tangled around him.
For a moment, he looks completely ordinary — just a tired young man waking up in a strange room.
He gazes at his reflection in the small mirror above the sink.
Touches his face, still not used to seeing it under fluorescent light.
LI HEON
A king who serves…
Perhaps there’s honor in that too.
INT. RESTAURANT KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS
The owner flips pancakes on a griddle, radio humming a pop song in the background.
Heon enters, tentative, still half regal in posture.
OWNER
Morning, Majesty. You’re late.
Heon blinks, confused.
LI HEON
It is still early. The sun has barely risen.
OWNER
Yeah, well, the world moves fast now.
Put this on, unless you wanna scare the customers again.
Heon hesitates, then ties the apron carefully — the knot perfectly symmetrical, military precise.
OWNER
You learn quick, huh?
LI HEON
I had good servants.
OWNER
Then today, you get to be one.
INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT
The lights have dimmed. The crowd is gone.
Steam from the kitchen still lingers like fog.
Li Heon stands behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, awkwardly wiping tables with a damp cloth.
Each wipe is slow, precise — as if he’s polishing royal marble.
The owner stacks dishes nearby, watching with mild disbelief.
OWNER
You don’t have to bow every time you hand me something, you know.
LI HEON
Old habits die harder than kings.
The owner snorts.
OWNER
You talk weird, kid.
Heon glances toward the glass window. Outside, neon signs flicker.
His reflection overlaps with them — a ghost of a crown hovering above his head.
INT. STAFF ROOM – LATER
A narrow room. Faded wallpaper, single cot, humming refrigerator.
Heon sits on the bed, still in borrowed clothes far too big for him.
He studies a small fluorescent bulb, reaching toward it, mesmerized by the steady light.
A hint of wonder replaces his fatigue.
He finally lies down. The bedsprings creak.
Eyes open in the dark — and we drift into—
FLASHBACK – JOSEON PALACE KITCHEN – NIGHT
Warm candlelight.
Yeon Ji Yeong (27) laughs as she tosses herbs into a pot.
Heon watches her from across the table, pretending to read a scroll but failing miserably.
JI YEONG
Stop staring, Your Majesty. The soup will burn.
LI HEON
If the soup burns, I’ll simply decree that it doesn’t.
She rolls her eyes. The laughter fills the chamber.
BACK TO PRESENT – STAFF ROOM – NIGHT
The fluorescent light flickers once, soft and blue.
Heon blinks, and the sound of her laughter fades into the hum of a refrigerator.
He presses a hand over his heart.
A whisper — barely a breath:
LI HEON
Ji-Yeong…
He closes his eyes.
INT. RESTAURANT KITCHEN – NEXT MORNING
The lunch rush has ended. Dishes clatter faintly in the sink.
The owner rummages through a box, tossing clothes onto the counter — jeans, a faded T-shirt, and a navy apron.
OWNER
You can’t walk around in those robes forever.
People think you’re from a play — or an asylum.
LI HEON
You expect a king to wear this… peasant fabric?
OWNER
They’re Levi’s, not peasant.
Welcome to democracy, Your Majesty. Everyone looks the same.
Heon hesitates, then takes the jeans.
He studies the zipper, the denim texture, frowns.
OWNER
They go on your legs, genius.
Heon glares at him — but vanishes into the back room.
INT. STAFF ROOM – CONTINUOUS
Heon emerges a moment later in jeans two sizes too big, a wrinkled T-shirt reading “Seoul BBQ – Spicy Since 1999.”
He looks horrified.
LI HEON
This... humiliation shall not be forgotten.
The owner doubles over laughing.
OWNER
Don’t worry. You’ll rule the grill, not the kingdom.
Now grab that apron. Let’s make you look like you can work here.
Heon ties the apron tightly — neat, symmetrical, proud.
INT. RESTAURANT – LATER
Heon stands at the doorway, greeting customers. His bow is half formal, half awkward.
A little girl waves shyly; he returns it with grave dignity.
For a moment, something like peace flickers in his eyes.
Then —
OWNER
(O.S.)
Hey, King! Take these orders to table six!
Heon turns, balancing a tray, walking carefully.
One wrong step — water sloshes, nearly spills.
He catches it just in time.
Customers applaud softly.
Heon straightens, pride rekindled.
LI HEON
Even kings must earn their crowns again.
INT. RESTAURANT BACK ROOM – NIGHT
Later, Heon sits eating leftovers — quiet, reflective.
The owner leans in the doorway, drying his hands.
OWNER
You know, you’ve got a strange work ethic.
Most people complain. You just… bow and keep going.
Heon looks up, serious.
LI HEON
I’ve lost kingdoms for less than pride.
This time, I choose to serve before I lead.
The owner studies him for a beat — a rare flicker of respect.
OWNER
Whatever past you’re running from, kid…
I hope you find what you’re looking for.
Heon doesn’t answer. Just smiles faintly, eyes drifting toward the window — where neon reflections shimmer like fragments of another world.
(signed) Silver
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