Chapter Text
126
A dozen emails stare at him and he knows some of them demand a reply but Mingyu can only stare back as his mind ponders completely unrelated stuff, like the human body and how honest it is.
Every extreme emotion is accompanied by a physical reaction, from our heart racing when we're excited or scared, to our eyes tearing up when we're either so happy or in so much pain. No matter what we say, no matter how we force ourselves to think otherwise, the body gives clues to how we truly feel. It remains honest.
A cold, heavy sinking feeling inside his ribs, paired with the hollow pit in his stomach, like a tiny black hole that's slowly growing bigger as time passes- Mingyu first felt that combo when he was 10. It was right after he falsely accused his younger sister of stealing his lucky pen. The pen that he later found in his school bag, tucked under his books.
He went home drunk off his ass one time when he was 17. His dad opened the door and scolded him. He talked back, saying it was too ironic for an absent father to talk about discipline. He woke up, remembered everything, and curled into a fetal position, as if trying to close the figurative hole in his stomach.
Mingyu rolls his shoulders and sighs. He glances to his left and sees Wonwoo walking back to his desk, carrying an empty box.
He watches through the glass wall as Wonwoo starts clearing his desk. All his personal belongings go into the box one by one. His notepads. His pens. The framed picture of his goldfish as well as the cactus that has died multiple times but he has somehow managed to resuscitate. His binder. His journal. A few markers. More pens.
Wonwoo throws his purple med kit in the box before ducking and retrieving something from the bottom drawer. He's got his pink comfort blanket in his hands when he rises, and it goes in the box, too. Lastly, he takes the photos taped under the counter and collects all the light blue post-it notes off of the edges of his monitor.
The brown L-shaped desk outside Mingyu's office is now bare and vacant. Without ever glancing back, Wonwoo walks away with the box, taking all the colors with him.
At age 32, Mingyu notes mild nausea and his shoulders feel like they're swelling and weighing a ton. He notes clammy hands and his ears hear static noise, drowning out his inner voice that's only trying to reason with him. Unlike the tears or the racing heart, this offered no second meaning.
3 MONTHS EARLIER DECEMBER 1 2025
INT. ELEVATOR — MORNING 1
The floor indicator read 12 when the doors opened for Soonyoung (34, Front Desk Officer) and Chaewon (21, New Hire). They stepped inside and pressed 1/F.
"Quick recap, that was 12,” Soonyoung said. “Test kitchen, dining via reservation, bar lounge.”
"Intimidating place,” said Chaewon.
“As intimidating as this floor?” Soonyoung pointed at the panel that currently read 11.
“Well, yeah, the law firm is pretty daunting, too.”
They continued listing the tenants as the lift descended.
“Accounting firm," Soonyoung said when the floor indicator blinked 10. “A quiet place.”
“Architecture," Chaewon supplied when the panel read 9. “Chaotic.”
Soonyoung smiled. “You see, it gets less serious as we go down." The lift slowed to a stop at 8. “Tech Startup."
“The young adults in hoodies," Chaewon slipped in before the doors slid open.
A guy in a hoodie, Junhui (25, Founder and CEO of Hu Feng Digital) stepped inside, pressed 2, and leaned sideways against the steel wall.
"You good?”
Junhui glanced over at Soonyoung. "Never been better.”
The sarcasm hit because Junhui looked like hell. Soonyoung chuckled under his breath as the doors closed again.
“Newbie?"
Chaewon nodded.
“Yep. This is Chaewon." Soonyoung turned to her and jerked his thumb to Junhui. “This is Junhui. He runs the 8th.”
Chaewon looked at Junhui more intently and nodded again, slower this time.
“The Language Learning Center," Soonyoung said as they moved past the 7th floor. "They do night classes by the way. You wanna learn any language, perchance?”
"Mandarin, maybe.”
Junhui gave her a quick glance but he didn't say anything.
"Nice. Let's enroll you later.”
Chaewon shook her head. "Not today.”
"Why not?” Soonyoung nudged once just to be annoying.
"The event center,” Chaewon said instead when the floor indicator read 6, “a co-working space called the HIVE,” when it read 5. "The Clinic,” when they moved past the 4th floor, and “Pilates," when the indicator read 3.
The lift stopped at the 2nd floor.
"The Cafe," Junhui piped in unexpectedly.
"Where the whole building gets their coffee,” Soonyoung added.
Junhui waved a tired hand as he stepped out.
"Is this where you get yours?” Chaewon asked.
Soonyoung gave her a cheeky smile. "Nope.”
The lift descended further down. They stepped out at the lobby.
INT. LOBBY — CONTINUOUS 2
The sound of low chatter and soft hum of Christmas carols filled the lobby.
"Back to our home floor. We have the tenant information here." Soonyoung gestured at the wall.
Chaewon had seen it earlier but she took a second to look at it again.
12F DINING AND LOUNGE
11F JO & CHOI
10F CHWE ACCOUNTING
9F L2 STRUCTURES
8F HU FENG DIGITAL
7F GOSE Language Institute
6F The Pavilion
5F HIVE
4F Prime Care Clinic
3F Vera Pilates
2F Cafe Collective
"We have 4 elevators here that cater to floors 2 through 12. Although mixed-use, this building is owned by Kim & Co. International. They have another HQ in Singapore but this is the main one." Soonyoung moved backwards. "Now, how do the KCI employees get to their floors?" he asked, already turning around. “They have their own elevator bank. Follow me.”
They walked to the other side. Chaewon slowed down a little as they passed by the giant Christmas tree, looking up at the silver ornaments and down at the prop gifts around it.
WIDE ON THE LOBBY
The lobby was alive and full of movement. The front entrance poured people in. A mixture of them in corporate attire, hoodies, and chic athleisure outfits headed to the left. Young instructors with rainbow GOSE lanyards followed right behind.
People wearing more coordinated business attire in shades of black, navy, charcoal, and white, with a sprinkle of soft blue here and there, all headed to the right.
Soonyoung and Chaewon stood away from KCI employees’ foot traffic, but near enough that they could see the elevators behind the turnstiles. At 10 minutes before nine, a few more employees rushed in, IDs clacking on the waist-high access gates.
“They also got 4 here,” Soonyoung said. “Elevators 1, 2, and 3 are for employees working on floors 13 through 16.”
“And the 4th one?”
On cue, the doors of the 4th elevator opened. WONWOO (34) exited it with quick steps. The employees instinctively got out of his way.
“That one is exclusively for the CEO on the 17th and the Executives on the 18th floor. It requires a specific keycard and only they have it. Only they can use that lift.”
Wonwoo strode past them.
“Is he an Executive?” Chaewon asked.
“Nah. He's too cool for that,” Soonyoung said as they watched Wonwoo walk towards the entrance.
“Lucky you. You're going to see the corporate runway duo.” Soonyoung faced Chaewon. "This only happens when the CEO's late. View’s better from behind our desk. Let's go."
EXT. BUILDING — CONTINUOUS 3
“Fuck my life," Wonwoo cursed under his breath as he waited for the black sedan to pull over.
MINGYU (32) hopped out from the backseat and grinned when he spotted Wonwoo. "Ah, full court press.”
“I'm about to uproot that tree and swing it right at you.”
“Nooo." Mingyu chuckled. “Leave my Christmas tree alone."
Wonwoo scowled and turned on his heels. Mingyu quickly followed and fell into step with his secretary.
INT. LOBBY — CONTINUOUS 4
FRONT DESK
Soonyoung and Chaewon watched the duo from behind the desk. YEONJUN (25) was standing next to them, phone held loosely to his ear, but his eyes were on Mingyu and Wonwoo, too.
"The perfectly in sync strut of the CEO and his Secretary.” Soonyoung let out a satisfied sigh. “10/10 choreography.”
FROM THE ENTRANCE TO THE TURNSTILES
Mingyu lightly brushed his elbow on Wonwoo. "I love it when you come all the way here to pick me up."
"The Tokyo Team arrived 20 minutes ago,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath. “Minghao is serving the second round of tea.”
“Technically, I'm not that late. They're just way early.”
“What do you expect? They're Japanese.”
Wonwoo sounded stressed; it made Mingyu laugh a little. “Relax. It's just a meeting.”
FRONT DESK
“The 16th dubbed them as ‘work husband and wife’."
“Who's the wife?”
Yeonjun ended the phone call and answered Chaewon. “The one nagging, of course.”
“The one that keeps the CEO’s head above water, more like," Soonyoung said.
The front desk trio watched the corporate duo thread across the lobby. Their elbows rubbed, their hands skimmed. The first two steps were offbeat but now they moved as a unit.
Their suits looked expensive. Smooth. Heavy. But it was nothing their broad shoulders couldn't carry. The secretary was in midnight blue, the CEO in dominant black. Both suits had a matte finish, making their silk ties pop.
One of them owned the building and the other had the keys to run it. Their combined aura screamed importance and Chaewon understood now why her senior treated this strut as a spectacle.
“But the nagging, too. I agree,” Soonyoung amended. “I wonder what he's being scolded for.”
“The Tokyo team arrived when you guys were upstairs,” said Yeonjun. "Like half an hour ago.”
Soonyoung hummed. “That explains it.”
FROM THE TURNSTILES TO THE ELEVATOR
Wonwoo and Mingyu passed through the access gates. Twin beeps were heard as their IDs hit the sensor.
"Just a meeting, yes, that's what we all thought until Oku-san showed up.”
“Oh? I'm meeting him in Osaka next month, right? What brings him here? Can't wait to see me?”
“Jesus. That's not—,” Wonwoo glanced back at Mingyu as they moved towards the 4th lift. "Is your brain still in Paris?"
"Wait. Is he here to …”
“Finally give you the Onsen,” Wonwoo cut in. "The one that you said you'd move mountains for.”
“Holy shit!”
Wonwoo bumped his hip against the scanner. The lift instantly opened. “Though he might be reconsidering it now that you're making him wait.”
INT. ELEVATOR — CONTINUOUS 5
Wonwoo pressed 17 and beckoned Mingyu as soon as the doors closed. Mingyu leaned forward and let Wonwoo fix his hair.
"The Onsen. My Onsen.” Mingyu beamed. "This is the best day of my life— oh, you smell nice."
Wonwoo made a face. "Don't I always?”
Mingyu was lightly pushed to the corner before he could react.
Wonwoo scanned him from hairline to heel. He clicked his tongue, pulled a paper towel from his left pocket, and crouched down to wipe something off of Mingyu’s shoe.
“Do you have paper towels with you at all times?”
“Since you had that scary nosebleed last June, yes.” Wonwoo neatly folded and slipped it in his back pocket. “Have you read the agenda?”
“Did you send it to me?”
Wonwoo knocked Mingyu's chest lightly with the back of his hand. “I emailed it to you!”
Mingyu held Wonwoo’s fist and smiled. “I've read it. I'm just playing with you.”
Wonwoo pulled his hand and glared at him.
INT. 17F HALLWAY — CONTINUOUS
They stepped out of the lift and headed directly to the meeting room.
Wonwoo already had his hands around the brass handles of the wooden double doors when he paused and glanced back at him. “Drop the grin. You're late. Look apologetic.”
Mingyu complied, schooling his face before giving an okay sign. “Watch me go clutch.”
Wonwoo smirked, rolled his eyes, and pushed the doors open.
INT. LOBBY — LATER 6
The building had fully stabilized at half past ten. There were arrivals and departures here and there, but not as hectic as the morning rush. Still a variety of people went for the tenant elevators while the ones who headed right were mostly food delivery riders, leaving takeout bags on the long table near the turnstiles.
“Did you show her the hidden lift?” Soonyoung asked when he spotted Yeonjun and Chaewon walking back to their work station.
“Yeah.”
“He let me log the deliveries.” Chaewon waved the log book in her hands.
Soonyoung smiled at her and then grabbed his tumbler. “I'm gonna go get coffee.”
Yeonjun nodded while Chaewon’s gaze followed Soonyoung. She leaned on the counter a little and saw him walk through the access gates.
INT. 17F MINGYU'S OFFICE — LATER 7
Mingyu sat comfortably in his office chair, looking at pictures of the Onsen that he had just acquired. His monitor showed the outdoor hot spring, its steam making the black pine and the line of bamboo behind the stone edge look like they were floating.
Compared to the Onsen, the only nature-like things in his office were the potted plant on his right and the dying bonsai in the corner. He'd make a case for the five-foot-wide oak panel on his left to be counted, too.
This office had been as transparent as a fishbowl during his father’s tenure. The wood panel was Wonwoo’s idea. It was to give Mingyu a little privacy— a buffer so people in the hallway wouldn't see him immediately. His own view was sacrificed, though.
He pushed off from his desk, rolling his chair back until he could see past the wood and through the glass.
He stayed there, eyes on the hallway.
Five seconds later, his secretary came into view.
Wonwoo was walking back to his L-shaped desk which was positioned right on the other side of the glass wall.
Mingyu pressed the intercom.
Wonwoo ignored the beep for another ten seconds, clearing his desk first and then retrieving a piece of paper from the printer. Only when he was fully settled did he let the call connect.
“Are they gone?
“Yeah,” said Wonwoo. “Minghao escorted them out.”
For a moment, Mingyu was only focused on not calling his secretary a neat freak. “Oku-san told me that you talked to him,” he said when Wonwoo was done wiping his keyboard.
“That, I did.”
“When?”
“Does it matter?”
“Nope,” Mingyu said with a grin. “Not at all. Thank you.”
“You're going to get it, anyway. I just sped things up.” Wonwoo tossed the used wipes into the bin. "And you still have to meet him in Osaka. Have dinner with him and all that."
INT. 17F WONWOO'S DESK — CONTINUOUS
Wonwoo adjusted his glasses. He opened a couple of password protected files and left them running under his inbox.
“You should come with me.”
Wonwoo paused. His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he slowly looked to his right and caught Mingyu’s eyes through the glass. Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows. Wonwoo made an unimpressed face and turned toward his computer.
“Nahhh.”
INT. 17F MINGYU'S OFFICE — CONTINUOUS
Mingyu pulled himself forward, rolling back to his desk to flip through the Onsen photos again. "Once you see the place,you'll understand why I wanted it so bad."
“Still no.”
The photo shown on his monitor now was of a vast expanse of dark volcanic rock. Next to it is a pathway lined with bone-white river stones, and in the corner— a burning red vending machine.
“C’mon. At least tell me you'll think about it.”
Mingyu heard Wonwoo’s soft sigh over the clanking of keys.
“Fine. I'll think about it. Is that all?”
Mingyu smiled to himself. “Yep."
“Okay. Seokmin’s waiting for you, by the way. He's curious about your Paris trip.”
INT. 16F — MOMENTS LATER 8
Unlike the quiet and private vibe of the 17F, the 16F was built for visibility. It was the floor where everyone sees everyone.
From the lift, a short hallway led to a rectangular path that looped the entire space.
Seokmin’s office would be the first room on the right, closest to the lift. Arranged in a single row were the offices of Jeonghan, Minghao, and Irene. These four offices were big enough to host a quick briefing with their three-person core group, should they need a private room for their departments. At the far end was a long conference room, slightly separated from the rest.
Turn the corner and you’d find your way to the storage room near the hallway to the restrooms, and next to that was the pantry.
In the middle of it all was where the four clusters of three-person cubicles were situated, all facing the hallway to the lift.
Anyone who enters or leaves is immediately noticed.
Mingyu frequented this floor so often that nobody batted an eye when he slipped into Seokmin's office..
SEOKMIN'S OFFICE 9
“Why are you so interested in my dating life?” His tone was dismissive but he smiled as he took a seat across Seokmin.
SEOKMIN (32, Guest Experience and Communications) raised a finger without looking at him, asking for a moment while mouthing the words he was reading on his computer. With his face fully satisfied, he clicked enter and grinned at Mingyu.
“Did you really go to Paris?”
“If I didn't switch shoes I promise you, this office is gonna smell like ammonia the second I come in.”
Seokmin’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “..So it really smells like pee?”
Mingyu unbuttoned his jacket and ran his hand over his tie to flatten it. “Is this what you wanna talk about?”
“Right.” Seokmin drew a few circles in the air between them, counterclockwise, as if rewinding a tape. “Where did you meet them?”
“I met her at the Charity Gala attended last September.”
“The one in Auremont?” Seokmin asked. “You met her here?”
“Yes, but she lives in Paris. She does fashion.”
Seokmin looked into the distance, squinted his eyes, and then he rose. Mingyu stood up and followed Seokmin out.
JEONGHAN'S OFFICE 10
JEONGHAN (36, Operations) was holding his dictaphone near his mouth, logging his takeaways from the meeting earlier when Seokmin stepped into his office with Mingyu in tow.
“Met her at the Gala last September— that's only two months ago. She does fashion— contrast— makes it interesting. But she lives in Paris— long distance.”
Mingyu settled in a chair while Seokmin sat on the edge of his desk.
“What do you think?”
“I think you shouldn't—”
Mingyu stopped talking when Seokmin held a finger at him again.
There was a mechanical click when Jeonghan stopped recording. He put the device in the drawer and looked at Mingyu. “You left Friday morning and you're here now. You were in Paris for how many hours? 24?”
“35-ish. 1 and a half days.”
Seokmin chimed in. “That's only enough to meet, have dinner, and have sex—”
“Hey—”
“—I mean, did you even have the time to talk?”
Mingyu crossed his arms, defensively, if you asked Jeonghan. “We have been communicating,” he said.
Jeonghan leaned back in his chair. “Interesting.”
“And we had the whole Saturday. She toured me around Paris.”
Jeonghan hummed. “Romantic.”
Mingyu shrugged and flashed his signature smug smile.
“What type of tour was it?” Seokmin probed. “Food and a little bit of sightseeing, or did you guys really spend your time wisely, talking, getting to know each other, and picking each other’s brain Before Sunset style?”
“We talked just fine, Seok.”
Seokmin’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah." He turned to Jeonghan. "I don't think any emotional intimacy was established.”
“Zero."
Mingyu throws his hands up in the air in disbelief. "You guys weren't even there.”
“And it's a long distance.” Seokmin pointed at Mingyu. “This guy can't tell me he's willing to fly 1000 hours— monthly— just to see his girlfriend.”
Jeonghan shook his head. “Unsustainable.”
“It's only 32 hours and she's gonna do the same thing,” said Mingyu. "She's coming home for Christmas and New Year’s."
“For the holidays. Not solely just to see you.”
Mingyu was about to argue with Seokmin but Jeonghan spoke up.
"Hang on. If they're gonna do that, taking turns to go see each other— this might last a little bit.”
“Novelty, yeah.” Seokmin shrugged. “Still under 6 months."
Mingyu blinked. “Wow.”
“I don't know. She could be a wild card. This could go over.”
Mingyu gave Jeonghan a calculating look, trying to see if he was serious or just provoking Seokmin.
“See.” Seokmin smiled flatly and pointed at Jeonghan. “You're tripping.” He then turned around. Jeonghan stood up and followed Seokmin out. Mingyu sighed, shook his head, and trailed behind the two.
MINGHAO'S OFFICE 11
MINGHAO (34, Finance) heard footsteps shuffling in. He didn’t look back and just continued with his task in hand. He picked up one cup at a time from the tray on his desk. He wiped them dry before putting them back in his glass-front display cabinet.
“He met her two months ago at the Gala. She works in fashion. Based in Paris. They've been communicating, he said. They spent 35 hours together, and they'll meet again when she comes home for the holidays. Jeonghan said Mingyu and this girl are gonna get married.”
“I did not say that,” Jeonghan denied with a small laugh.” I said they might go over."
Minghao arranged the three tea cups in the cabinet before picking another one to dry.
"Also, we should push the line to nine,” Jeonghan said.
“Nine months? No way. Stick to six. Stay true to statistics.”
“Fine. Let's stick to six. Works for me ‘cause I'm going over.”
Minghao turned around and faced his friends. Mingyu was standing at the back while Jeonghan and Seokmin occupied the chairs in front of Minghao's desk.
“Really? You're taking over?"
“Yes," Jeonghan answered simply.
“You guys doing this in front of me is insane,” Mingyu mumbled from the back.
“What about you?” Seokmin tipped his chin toward Minghao.
Minghao shook his head. "I'm not participating.”
Mingyu gestured towards Minghao. "Thank you.”
Seokmin waves a hand. “Boring.”
“Krystal is not gonna like you,” Mingyu fired at Seokmin.
“She doesn't have to. I mean, will I even meet her?"
Seokmin was completely unbothered and Jeonghan was the only one who got curious and asked, "why?”
“She'll find Seok kinda childish. She's a no-nonsense type of woman. She's very mature."
A pause before Seokmin said, "Wait,” at the same time as Jeonghan asked, "What's the gap?”
"She's three years older than me.”
The trio exchanged looks.
"That's a first,” Minghao noted.
“I know,” Mingyu said instantly. "I feel like I'm meant to be with someone older than me. Someone straightforward and can put me in my place, you know what I mean?” Mingyu asked but didn't really wait for an answer. “And she's exactly like that. I think this could be something."
The trio exchanged looks again and Mingyu didn't like this one bit. It was like watching his friends try to telepathically talk to each other.
“What does she look like?" asked Seokmin. “Show us a pic."
Mingyu sighed but pulled his phone out. He did a few clicks and held his phone to Seokmin’s face and then to Jeonghan’s. Minghao extended a hand instead of leaning over his desk. Mingyu handed his phone to him.
Jeonghan poked Seokmin’s leg with the tip of his shoe. "You wanna push it to nine?”
“No. Six. Under,” Seokmin said while kicking Jeonghan’s foot away and dusting his dress pants.
Minghao looked at the phone in his hand. On the screen was a picture of Krystal. It was taken in the early morning, outdoors, across a café table. She was seated with her back straight, wearing a gray blazer, a little oversized but still neat and structured. A black coat was draped over the back of her chair. Untouched plate of bread, butter, and a cup of coffee in front of her. She was looking straight at the camera, the corner of her lips curved upward a little, like the photo was snapped right when she was about to smile.
Seokmin and Jeonghan were discussing the bet. It ended with them bickering and Mingyu joining in.
Minghao made a tentative swipe. The next photo was of a kid in the street, dribbling a ball. Another swipe, a photo of Krystal standing on the platform of a train station. Swipe, another photo of her. Swipe, a selfie Mingyu took with her. Swipe, a photo of Mingyu. Swipe, Louvre. Swipe, a river. Swipe, a screenshot of Mingyu’s flight itinerary. Swipe, the Christmas tree in the lobby. Swipe, a picture of Wonwoo at work, taken from Mingyu's office and through the glass wall. Swipe, a picture of Mingyu’s messy desk. Swipe, a picture of Wonwoo eating pizza in Mingyu's office. Swipe, a selfie Mingyu took with Wonwoo in the car. Swipe, a photo of Mingyu’s niece. Swipe, a photo of Wonwoo in Mingyu's office, a folder tucked under his arm as he sprayed water on the bonsai.
Seokmin and Jeonghan had decided to put three work favors and a week of morning coffee on the line. They shook hands.
Minghao quickly swiped all the way back to the first photo and handed the phone back to Mingyu. He gave him an impressed look and then he resumed wiping his porcelain cups.
Seokmin smiled deviously. “I'm gonna make you track guest feedback across all properties.”
“Invalid. That's what your people on the lower floors do.”
Minghao pushed his tea pot in the far right of his cabinet and arranged the cups again. He never played with his fine china.
“Okay. Then I'm gonna make you answer Mr. Hong’s emails.”
Jeonghan made a face. “Who the fuck is that?”
“Mr. Joshua Hong, the most difficult VIP client we've ever had.” Seokmin smirked evilly. “Oh, I'm so gonna win this.”
Mingyu couldn't help but react. “You know, for someone so fond of romance movies—”
“Movies in general. Not just romance,” Seokmin clarified.
“— you're annoyingly so invested in my relationship not working out.”
“Such a hater,” Jeonghan agreed. Both of them pin Seokmin with a look.
There was a pause and it made Minghao glance back. He saw Seokmin raising his hands in mock surrender.
“Yeah. Alright. I'm sorry,” said Seokmin.
Mingyu crossed his arms. He saw right through Seokmin. They all did.
“If you're really sorry, call the bets off.”
Seokmin's face broke into a smile. “Heck, no. It's a sure win for me.”
Jeonghan and Minghao laughed. Mingyu turned away, shaking his head and fighting a smile. He was not entirely unconvinced. “You're a terrible friend,” he said lightly.
“Look, I’ll give it to you straight,” said Seokmin. "You're just moonstruck right now." His phone rang, he extended his leg so he could fetch it from his pocket. “And it's fine. That's good. Enjoy it while it lasts.” He looks at his screen. “Alright. You being moonstruck is number one.”
He flashed them his phone, showing the “Work— Mom 🩶" caller ID.
"Number two, you already have a wife,” Seokmin said before answering the call. “What's up?” Pause. “Yes, he's here.” He looked at Mingyu. “What do you want for lunch?”
Mingyu hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe a salad.”
“He said he wants a salad,” Seokmin told the person on the other line and then he looked at Mingyu one more time. "Mom said think again."
Mingyu took a few seconds to answer. “I want a protein bowl,” he said decisively.
“Protein bowl,” Seokmin repeated. A pause, and then he hung up and nodded toward the pantry. “He said he'll leave it in the pantry.”
This floor was built for visibility, and through the glass wall they all saw Wonwoo walk from the hallway to the pantry, carrying a take out bag.
“Must feel nice to be known so well,” Seokmin whispered to himself. “That's the type of love I root for.”
INT. 17F MINGYU'S OFFICE — 1400 12
Mingyu was back in his chair with an open folder in his hand. The document was dense, it was a black blur compared to the brackets and notes on the left margin written in blue.
Wonwoo slipped into the office, placed his afternoon coffee on the right side of his desk, and left.
Attention still on the document, Mingyu reached for the mug.
INT. 17F MINGYU’S OFFICE — 1430 13
Mingyu stood near the wall, eyes on the sunlit city below. Phone pressed to his ear, he glanced back when he heard the door click. Seeing Wonwoo, Mingyu walked back to his desk and grabbed the still half-full mug. He stayed on call as he took two more sips before handing the mug to Wonwoo.
INT. LOBBY — LATE AFTERNOON 14
“What's taking her so long?”
Yeonjun was playing solitaire on the computer while Soonyoung was sitting comfortably in his chair, hands tucked in his pockets as he observed the lobby.
"There's only one floor here that serves coffee. I'm sure she didn't get lost.”
Yeonjun let out a soft chuckle. “Do you think she'll stick around?
“I hope so,” Soonyoung said. “Depends if she likes people-watching.”
WIDE ON THE LOBBY
The right side had barely any movement and the left side had also thinned out a little.
There were three middle aged women heading there, carrying bright coloured aquaflasks. A few steps behind them were a group of teenagers, still in school uniforms, laughing and throwing random Japanese words at each other.
Ikimasu. Mimasu. Tabemasu.
INT. 17F WONWOO'S DESK — 1530 15
“Bonjour.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Mingyu let out a snort. They were facing each other, only separated by the 3.5ft-high ledge of Wonwoo's desk.
“Talk to me in a language I know or don't talk to me at all.”
Wonwoo pulled something from his jacket pocket.
Mingyu held his hand out. Wonwoo tapped a KitKat into his open palm.
Mingyu opened it and popped a piece in his mouth. Wonwoo did some tidying up, slotting pads of post-it notes in the tiny shelves under the ledge.
“Language you know, alright…” Mingyu pulled up his phone. “Ant dropped a 32-piece on your team. 72% in field goals. 4 of 6 from 3.”
Wonwoo paused, expression turning from neutral to affronted, as if Mingyu touched on such a sensitive topic.
Mingyu was smiling, unfazed.
“Don't do this,” Wonwoo warned and resumed tidying up. “Fine, just tell me about Paris.”
“You never asked me anything before now. You seem uninterested.”
“I didn't ask because I know you're gonna tell me anyway.” Wonwoo leaned back in his chair, looked up, and had his full attention on Mingyu.
Mingyu took his time splitting a KitKat, popping more in his mouth before leaning his elbow on the counter. He said his next words casually.
“She might be it for me.”
Wonwoo stared at him. There was a pause that Mingyu felt the need to fill. “She's different,” he said.
Wonwoo didn't say anything so Mingyu went on.
“She made the first move, approaching me at the Gala. She's the type to go after what she wants, and I realized I'm drawn to that. There were a few times in Paris when I felt this certain sense of pride. She could've spent her time with someone else but she chose me.”
Mingyu popped the last piece of chocolate in his mouth. All this time, Wonwoo was just observing, taking everything in.
“I think this could get serious,” said Mingyu. “Seokmin has a different opinion, of course. Guy started a betting pool.”
Wonwoo sighed at that. “He does that all the time,” he said. “Does it bother you now?”
“No,” Mingyu said, and then after a second he followed it up with, “yeah, well, maybe a little.”
They held eye contact. Mingyu wanted Wonwoo to say something. “How about you?” he asked. "Do you think it'll last?"
Wonwoo looked at him sincerely. “Do you want it to last?”
Mingyu dropped his gaze down, folding the wrapper in his hand. “Yeah,” he said. He then looked back up and met Wonwoo’s eyes again. “I think I do.”
Wonwoo gave him a closed lipped smile. “There you go.”
🖇️
INT. LOBBY — MORNING 16
Yeonjun was answering the inquiry of an old man in a suit. Chaewon was arranging the gifts under the tree. Soonyoung was standing near the hallway to the tenant elevators, having a chat with a smiley guy that looked so approachable no one would mistake him for cutthroat lawyer.
A younger guy passed by in front of them. Brown hat, white polo shirt, jet black slacks, checkered apron. In his left hand, a two-cup carrier, while in his right, six. He whistled as he walked to the other side of the lobby.
He set the cups, eight in total, on the long table near the turnstiles. On the cup, the logo was seen clearly.
Cafe Collective.
INT. 17F — WONWOO'S DESK — 0820 17
Mingyu spotted his coffee on the ledge. He grabbed the takeout cup and popped the lid right there.
Wonwoo was already working, iPad in hand, going through their schedule. “You're early.”
“I couldn't wait to see you.”
Wonwoo looked up and batted his eyelashes at him.
Mingyu winked and blew Wonwoo a kiss.
“Alright. You have a 930AM meeting with your favorite client.”
Mingyu groaned mid-sip. “I almost forgot that,” he said, sighing. "If the purge was real, I'd find that man first."
“If the purge was real, you wouldn't find him alive.”
Mingyu paused, one eyebrow raised, processing, and then his face broke into a grin. “That was a good one,” he said. "Always getting the job done."
Wonwoo winked. He didn't blow a kiss, though.
INT. 16F — AFTERNOON 18
At this time of the day, if you walked into this place blindfolded, you'd easily mistake it for the cafe collective floor.
The soft scent of Minghao’s jasmine tea did not stand a chance. The whole floor smelled like espresso.
It was quiet except for the murmur of the AC and the polite clicking of keyboards. There was also an occasional sound of plastic wrapper being torn open. Everyone was just trying to survive the post-lunch lag.
SEOKMIN'S OFFICE 19
Soobin (28, Seokmin's team) stood before Seokmin. “This didn't hit the CEO’s desk,” he said, referring to the folder in his hand. It was a print out of the year-end VIP gala guest list and invites. “Wonwoo said it's weak.”
Seokmin was detangling his laptop charger. “If Wonwoo said it's weak, then it's probably weak." He disappeared under his desk to plug it. “Like, spineless-weak. A jellyfish kind of weak."
“Alright. I get it," said Soobin, laying the folder on the desk. “He also said we don't have to shuffle the seating chart too much. It should still be based on net worth."
“And he is so right. The monsters would very much love and prefer that.” Seokmin rose, holding the other end of the charger and slotting it into his laptop. "If the invites need revision, why is it on my desk?”
"Don't you want to look at it?”
"Pass. I'll read the revised version,” said Seokmin but he did glance at it for a moment. "When he said it's weak, he meant it looked too much like an invite." He picked up the folder and handed it to Soobin. “Make it sound mandatory."
JEONGHAN'S OFFICE 20
Dictaphone held closely to his mouth, Jeonghan paced the length of his office window.
"....to clear the backlog before the holidays. I need to buy my family gifts, by the way," he said, voice flat and bored. “Anyway, regarding the logistics hub in the south, the site survey is complete. I haven't seen it. I have to check it first thing Monday morning."
He turned around, eyes landing on his desk. “I have a site plan on my desk. It's for the Lustre Heritage. It's due for restoration. I don't wanna look at it right now. It pains me. I like that hotel.”
His attention was caught by the commotion outside. He walked toward the door and saw Jihyo (26, Jeonghan’s team), freshly back from vacation, giving away souvenirs. "Jihyo is here. She comes back Monday but she's here now to, I don't know, model her tan? She looks red. The beach did her good, though. I'm jealous."
Jeonghan walked back to his desk. "Tuesday, December 2, 2025,” he added quickly and turned the recorder off. He deposited it in the drawer before stepping out.
16F CENTRAL WORKSTATIONS — CONTINUOUS 21
Jeonghan joined the crowd and lined up for dried mangoes. Sensing food, Seokmin jumped out of his office. He was about to cut in line but Jeonghan grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him back.
Minghao walked out of his office. He was holding a brown envelope and was approaching someone from his core team, Jungwon (29).
“Mingyu wanted to see this," Minghao said, handing Jungwon the envelope. He was about to leave but he paused and checked the time. His watch read 03:23. "Bring it to Wonwoo later.”
"Alright.”
Minghao stepped back. "Not now. Later. 4PM-ish.”
“I know." Jungwon smiled and nodded. "I got you.”
INT. 17F WONWOO'S DESK — 1530 22
Mingyu eased toward Wonwoo’s desk and propped his elbow on the ledge. Wonwoo simply handed him a Milky Way and went back to his computer.
Mingyu tore the wrapper and bit on his chocolate quietly while observing his secretary. “What are you doing?” he asked after a moment.
"Your emails.”
“Do it later," said Mingyu. “Come be human with me.”
One corner of Wonwoo's mouth curved upward. “Using my words against me.”
Mingyu rolled his eyes when Wonwoo kept working. He made a show of sighing loudly and pulling his sleeve up to peek at his watch.
He was halfway through his Milky Way when he started drumming his fingertips on the ledge.
Wonwoo was typing a hundred words per minute now. One last click and then he finally looked up at him. “Hi.”
“Ah, you here?”
“Yep. Right here.”
Mingyu finished his chocolate and set the wrapper on the ledge. Wonwoo was there as he said, watching.
"Did you see what D Mitch did to your team?
Wonwoo gave him a deadpan look. "Is this why you couldn't wait to talk to me? To shit on a team that I don't care about?”
“You yapped about them a lot during the off-season.”
“Doesn't mean I root for them. They're so injured now, they're putting in players I haven't seen in my life,” said Wonwoo. "Not fun to watch.”
With the sight of Wonwoo’s furrowed eyebrows, Mingyu knew he succeeded in ruining his afternoon. “Who do you think will come out of the east?”
“Too early to tell. We're only twenty games in.” Wonwoo rolled his chair back and crossed his ankles over his desk. “I hope it’s not New York.”
“No way New York. That franchise is cursed. But we'll see," said Mingyu. “East is open."
Wonwoo clicked his tongue. “Wide open, it's pissing me off.”
Mingyu smirked. “Odd coming from someone who doesn't root for Indiana."
Wonwoo shut his eyes tightly, sighed, and then gestured for him to go away.
Mingyu knew he got him. Chuckling under his breath, he innocently asked, "What?”
Wonwoo’s eyes stay closed. He shook his head and just waved his hand, signaling the end of conversation.
“Saying it pisses you off is such a self-report, you know,” Mingyu teased but Wonwoo didn't entertain him with a response. He was done. Mingyu walked backwards, laughing.
🖇️
INT. 17F WONWOO'S DESK — 1530 23
Mingyu headed over and stopped at his usual spot.
“Hey, can you—”
“Nope.” Mingyu wagged a finger at the folder in Wonwoo's hand. “Put that away. No corporate talk on my glucose break."
Wonwoo pouted, tossing the folder to the side before his hand disappeared into his pocket. He pulled out four mini Snickers and plopped them on the ledge.
Mingyu hummed in delight and immediately ate one.
Wonwoo set his glasses on the desk and rubbed his eyes. "Any idea what to get Hyeri for her birthday?”
“Her birthday’s in March,” said Mingyu. "That's three months from now."
“I saw her posts about a bag that she wanted,” said Wonwoo while retrieving a throw blanket from the bottom drawer of his desk. “I emailed the brand. It's a three-month lead time.”
“How much is it?”
"The price won't make you gasp, I promise.” Wonwoo draped the lightweight blanket over his face and chest. He leaned back, crossed his arms and got comfortable in his chair. His next words were muffled by the fabric. “And it's for your sister.”
Mingyu opened the second Snicker and ate it, nodding. "Yeah, okay. Go for it.”
“Already did.”
Mingyu let out a huff, amused but not surprised.
He ate the rest of the chocolates quietly, eyes drifting to Wonwoo whose breath was getting slow and steady.
He walked around the high counter and dropped the wrappers in the bin next to the printer. He threw one more glance at Wonwoo and carefully took the phones off the hook. He grabbed the folder and headed back to his office.
🖇️
INT. 17F WONWOO'S DESK — 1530 24
Mingyu leaned over the partition and saw a Twix on Wonwoo's desk. "Oooh, I love Twix.”
Wonwoo was busy slotting documents into a folder. He pushed his glasses upwards and slid his pen in the left chest pocket of his suit.
"Where are you going?”
“Top floor." Wonwoo stood up and exited his work station. “Director Park was asking for this,” he said, waving the folder. “I'll be quick.”
"If you're not here in 3 minutes, I'm gonna come get you,” said Mingyu but Wonwoo had already rounded the corner.
Mingyu slipped into his secretary’s station. He sat in his chair and ate his Twix.
He had sat here plenty of times but it was still amusing how Wonwoo’s workspace was plain and neat from the other side of the ledge but actually had a few extremely confusing things from the inside. Aside from the semi-dead cactus on his right and multiple photos of ferris wheels peeking from behind the monitor, it was always the framed picture of a gold fish that cracked Mingyu up.
He got bored after a while, he started opening drawers, guessing Wonwoo’s desktop password, rolling the chair back to see his office from Wonwoo’s point of view, and then reading the post-it notes scattered around the computer screen. They were all about work except for one that had the name of the new Vietnamese restaurant. There was a contact number and under it were the words too soggy, which was what Mingyu had said about the pho yesterday, verbatim.
It was way more than 3 minutes later when Wonwoo came back and Mingyu followed him from the hallway to the desk with an intense side eye.
Wonwoo stood at the other side of the ledge, exactly at Mingyu’s spot. “Why are you looking at me like I cheated on you?"
"I don't know.” Mingyu rolled the chair all the way back so he could cross his ankles over the desk, just like how Wonwoo usually did. “I just had a feeling you did."
Wonwoo didn't respond. He only propped his elbow on the ledge and scratched his chin. He couldn't look more unbothered.
"Did you bump into Director Cho?”
“Not only did I bump into him," said Wonwoo. “He talked to me."
Mingyu scoffed. “His fancy espresso machine and ice maker didn't work. What did he bribe you with this time?”
Wonwoo shoved both hands inside his pocket, making him wait a little. "A company car and a parking spot in the basement.”
Mingyu would be lying if he said this didn't surprise him. "That's nothing I haven't offered you before.”
"True.”
Mingyu took his feet off the desk and pushed forward, trying to get a closer look at Wonwoo’s face. "Why do you look interested?"
Wonwoo pointed at himself. “Me?" he asked with a tiny smile.
Mingyu knew Wonwoo was thinking he was gonna get him today and yeah, okay, sometimes, you just gotta let yourself get got.
“You turned those down when I offered them to you years ago but now they're appealing? Now you're interested?"
Wonwoo pursed his lips, as if fighting a smile as Mingyu went on.
“I said you were insane for parking your car five blocks away from here but you insisted you needed that six hundred fifty steps for the betterment of your blood circulation but now you want a parking spot in the basement? And you don't want it from me. You want it from my cousin? Seungyoun? Wow. Secretary Jeon. I'm speechless, to be honest.”
"Saying you're speechless after all that yapping is crazy,” Wonwoo pointed out with a soft chuckle. "Get out of my desk.”
"How did you turn him down? Tell me.”
“Who said I turned him down?" Wonwoo slid inside his station. Mingyu had stood up but he refused to move. He was giving Wonwoo a flat stare that meant it was time to drop it. “The same way I turned you down. I said I need my six fifty steps, thirteen hundred in total, back and forth. Now, get out."
Mingyu only got out of Wonwoo’s way but he stayed in his workspace, his hip leaning against the edge of the desk.
"I know for a fact you touched everything here." Wonwoo shook his head disapprovingly, pushing the gold fish back into place and moving the cactus a centimeter to the left. “Your 15-minute break is over, by the way."
“There was something I wanted to tell you but I completely forgot what it was."
“Typical. You have the memory of a husky." He picked up the chocolate wrapper and tossed it in the bin. He liked his workspace clean. “What is it about? Basketball? Football?—"
“Okay, I remember now." Mingyu pulled the first drawer open and motioned toward Wonwoo's phone. "They released Spotify wrapped today. Let's see yours.”
"I don't think I've listened to a lot of music this year." Wonwoo unlocked his phone. “Also, what goes on in my Spotify Wrapped is none of your concern."
"As a self proclaimed old soul, you probably got James Taylor in there. Who was it last year? Bruce Springsteen?"
"I don't remember.”
"Pretty sure it was Bruce Springsteen.”
Wonwoo tilted his phone toward Mingyu. "I got Alanis.”
Mingyu leaned down, face inches away from Wonwoo. "Alanis Morrisette? One hit wonder Alanis Morissette? Really?"
With his top artist being called a one hit wonder, Wonwoo wasn't able to form words. He babbled like a baby for a second and then elbowed Mingyu in the ribs. He pulled a yellow card from behind his monitor and held it on Mingyu’s face. "That's a foul. How dare you?!"
Mingyu raised his hands up as he stepped back.
"I'll have you know that her Jagged Little Pill album was one of the best—"
Mingyu broke into song next to him. “It's like rain~ on your wedding day. It's a free ride~ when you've already paid…”
“—albums ever. All tracks are good. She did not miss—”
"Na na na good advice,” Mingyu was still singing as he stepped out of Wonwoo’s station. "That you just didn't take.”
"—Literally a goat-ed album. Her music remained relevant, timeless—"
Mingyu was a few steps away from his office door now. “And who would have thought,” he turned and pointed at Wonwoo.
“.... It figures—" Wonwoo sang but stopped himself immediately. “Shut the fuck up and go back to work, Mingyu.”
Mingyu was already in his office but the sound of his laugh bounced around the 17th floor. Wonwoo was so annoyed, he mistyped his desktop password twice.
"One hit wonder? What the fuck does he know?” Wonwoo exhaled through his nose. "Singing fucking ironic. That's not even her best song on the album.”
INT. 17F WONWOO'S DESK — 1530 25
Mingyu beamed when he extended a hand and saw seven cookies and cream kisses tumbling into his palm. He lined them up on the ledge and snapped a photo.
They spent a full minute in silence. Mingyu ate his chocolates and Wonwoo scrolled through his phone.
"You think we're getting Marty Supreme here?”
"Hang on, let me check.” Wonwoo opened a new tab on his phone to search for the movie. "If you mean in theaters, I don't think so,” said Wonwoo. "A24 films rarely get a theatrical release here."
"Rare but it happens, right?” Mingyu asked and only got a grunt from Wonwoo as a response. "If it blows up, we might get it in cinemas. Let's watch it if it does.”
"We're not gonna get it,” Wonwoo said without looking up.
"But if we do, promise you'll go watch it with me.”
"Ask Seokmin. He'd be thrilled to join you.”
Another full minute spent in silence. It extended to two. Three. It was four minutes later when a kisses wrapper crumpled into a tiny ball hit his phone screen before it toppled onto his lap. His eyes flicked to Mingyu whose lips were stretched to a thin line. He had the look on his face that was a mixture of annoyance and disappointment, it had Wonwoo backtracking the conversation to see where and when exactly did he figuratively kick the puppy.
“If you don't wanna watch a movie with me just say so."
“Oh my god." Wonwoo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine," he said. “I'll go with you if they show it in theaters. I'm positive they won't but if they do, I promise I'll go with you.”
Satisfied, Mingyu nodded and gave him a thumbs up.
"The best we get is a delayed international run.”
"Don't care. I'll take it.”
Mingyu’s phone rang at this moment. He pulled it out from his pocket and smiled when he saw who was calling.
"It's Krystal.” He gave Wonwoo a little wave and started retreating back to his office. “Hey, good morning.”
Wonwoo’s eyes were fixed on Mingyu's back and the phone that was pressed to his ear.
“…. I miss you, too.”
Mingyu's office door clicked close. The time on the corner of his monitor read 03:38pm. It might be the first time that Mingyu didn't exhaust his 15-minute break.
Wonwoo sighed and shifted his gaze back to his phone where a recap of the warriors-sixers game played on mute. He picked up the balled wrapper on his lap and tossed it in the bin before restarting the video, this time with the volume turned all the way up.
“Golden State in Philly tonight— Draymond Green and the short-handed Warriors taking on Joel Embiid and the Sixers…”
INT. LOBBY — LATE AFTERNOON 26
The setting sun graced the lobby with a yellow orange glow, giving the place a sacred vibe, like a cathedral that was made of glass. It was still busy with the employees heading for the exits. The door hadn't stopped revolving in the past hour, but the warm light seemed to mute the buzz.
Chaewon emerged from the secret room behind the wall that held the massive KCI logo. She advanced to the front desk to say bye to the closing shift. Her eyes scanned the lobby, a newly developed habit, and landed on Soonyoung by the Christmas tree. He was having deep conversation with someone from the 10th floor.
“That man is an accountant, right?" she whispered to Sunoo (24, Front Desk) and tilted her chin toward the tree.
Sunoo looked up from the stack of blue leaflets that he was folding and followed Chaewon’s gaze. "Hansol Chwe, yes.”
Chaewon pumped her fist. She was getting better at guessing which face belonged to which floor. “I knew it," she said to the smiling Sunoo. “Why is he still here, by the way? Soonyoung, I mean. Doesn't he have like.. the dance studio thing?"
“Nah, he doesn't teach dance on Fridays.”
"So, he just stays here? Until midnight?”
"No,” Sunoo laughed, hitting Chaewon lightly with a leaflet. "He's waiting for his friends. Do you know the guys from the 16th floor?”
"By guys, you mean the guys?”
"THE guys, yeah.”
Chaewon put her bag on the counter. "The three main guys. I don't know them by name. But one looks like he knows time is not real but will never force you to believe that past and future don't exist. Another one looks like a skin care model. And the last one is the type to hit you with a ‘if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?’ kind of question, you know what I mean? He looks like he's always ready to argue."
She made Sunoo laugh with that. “Right," he said. “Well, Soonyoung’s probably waiting for them."
"He is friends with them?” Chaewon asked, surprised.
"Tight,” Sunoo simply said. He was back to folding leaflets.
"Really..” Chaewon gave herself a moment to process that, then she grabbed her bag. “Well. Good first week so far. Nothing traumatic,” she said. "I'm heading out.”
"Enjoy the weekend off.”
Chaewon smiled and waved at Sunoo. She wanted to say goodbye to Beomgyu (25, Front Desk) too but he was busy explaining to an older woman how the 12F dining reservation works.
Chaewon gave Soonyoung a playful salute when she passed by him, and then she was out.
If she stayed five more minutes, she would've witnessed the “ready to argue" guy tackle Soonyoung and catch him in a headlock. If she stalled for another ten, she would've seen her favourite corporate duo step out of the lift— their handsome faces catching the last purple glow of the day as the sun slowly bruised the sky.
EXT. BUILDING — EARLY EVENING 27
The air was warm and thick when they stepped out of the building. The streetlights flickered on, casting an ugly shade of auburn over the road. Mingyu’s ride was already waiting for him at the curb.
"Wonwoo.”
The owner of the name sighed. “This sounds like a 30 minute conversation.” He was walking a few steps ahead and had to stop when he heard Mingyu calling for him. “I’ve clocked out. I'm not getting paid for this," he said when Mingyu was within earshot. “Make it quick.”
Mingyu laughed. “Fine," he said, but for a moment, he just stood there in front of Wonwoo. He looked boyish. Shy. "Krystal booked her flight,” he said, finally.
“Okay." Wonwoo blinked at Mingyu, waiting for more words but it didn't come. "What do you need from me?” he asked. “You want me to arrange airport pick-up?”
Mingyu was quick to dismiss it. "Her flight’s in two weeks. And no. I don't think we need to arrange that. She's a mature woman, you know. Like..,” he trailed off a little. “Like grown.”
Wonwoo nodded in understanding. “A strong, independent woman."
Mingyu snapped his fingers and pointed at Wonwoo. “That's the one. Strong, independent woman."
“Alright," said Wonwoo, smiling. "And?”
Mingyu shrugged. He looked away, eyes drifting away to the streets. "I don't know," he said, gaze falling back on Wonwoo. “I just needed to tell someone."
Wonwoo gave him a tiny smile, nodding. They went silent after that. The rhythmic sound of heels on the pavement and the loud exhale of the bus passing by fill the gap. Even without those, silence never bothered them at all. But then a wail of an ambulance from a distance forced them to get going.
“You look like you have something else to tell me,” said Wonwoo. "Spit it out."
“Okay." Mingyu chuckled. “Just… I’m debating if I should introduce her to them.”
Wonwoo tilted his head. “Them?"
“Seokmin and the gang.”
Wonwoo tilted his head further to the side. "I don't see why not.”
“You know Seokmin."
“What does that mean?”
Mingyu hesitated. He shoved both hands in his pockets. “I don't think he knows how deep I am into this.” His smile was tainted with dread. “If he calls me ‘dad’ in front of Krystal…"
"He wont do that.” Wonwoo immediately assured Mingyu. "Just pre-warn him to be sure. Or tell him to stop calling you that."
Mingyu stares at him, considering. He didn't give a response.
"Do you want me to do it?”
“Nahh,” Mingyu shook his head. "I don't think it's right to make him stop calling us his parents. You know he was never on good terms with his family.”
None of them was willing to talk about someone else's family dynamics so they moved past it instantly.
“Then just remind him to not do it.”
“Yeah,” said Mingyu. Just like that, the dread was gone. He was smiling fully now. "Okay."
“You’re vibrating,” Wonwoo pointed out with a laugh.
“I know. I’m excited. She's gonna be here in two weeks," Mingyu said. His eyes were alive. Sparkling. “I miss her."
“Yeah. It's pretty obvious," said Wonwoo. Mingyu was smiling at him. He smiled back. "Go home, Gyu.”
“Yep.” There was a spring in Mingyu’s step. He opened the back door of the car. “See you Monday?"
It was framed like a question. Like seeing him on Monday was not a given.
"Of course.”
He got one last smile from Mingyu. At that moment, Wonwoo felt stuck, he didn't have a choice but to watch the car peel away.
🖇️
🎶🎵🎶
the tracking shot
[ We watch Mingyu’s car leave the curb. We keep our eyes on it, tracking the taillights until it melts into the sea of red and into the traffic ahead.
We hear a turn of a heel and a tired whisper, barely audible over the noise of the passing van. “Well, this is another first."
It's the first time Wonwoo doesn't wanna do his six-fifty steps. He just wants to immediately crash in his bed, call it a night. A week. A year.
We do a one eighty and come face to face with him. There's not even a ghost of a smile on his face. He looks exhausted. But he takes a step. And another.
And then another.
We give him a headstart, and then we move to follow him.
The first one hundred steps are done in a quick, easy stride, like he’s got somewhere he needs to be. That, or he's trying to lose us.
And he did, lose us for a second when he turned the corner.
We jog to catch up and find ourselves in a busy street, the auburn glow of the streetlamps replaced by the flickering neon of the commercial buildings. We see him pass by a row of brightly lit food stalls. We see him duck the steam coming from a huge pot.
Two hundred and fifty one steps deep into the journey is when we pass by a Chinese restaurant. Its door spits out a group of college students. They look drunk, or maybe they're just happy. We dodge them just in time to see Wonwoo pull a folded paper towel from his left pocket. He flicks it into the bin by the bus stop. The movement was too smooth, calculated, like he's done it a thousand times.
Seventy more steps and he takes his suit jacket off. Suddenly a couple of men thread the street with us. Or maybe they were here all along, we just didn't notice. We see them now. They're dressed like Wonwoo. White dress shirt, loosened ties, and at this time of the day, all slacks look black.
We stay where we are, approximately fifteen meters behind him. We see him stop by the corner, joined by the pedestrians, waiting for permission to cross the street.
We see how his shoulders sag after a deep sigh.
Maybe it's time to let him go.
But we keep looking. Until the traffic lights change. Until the cars stop. A wave of people surges forward, and Wonwoo— the spine of the glass building a few blocks away, becomes just another white blur.
CUT TO BLACK. ]