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Summary
The cabin swallowed the cold sounds of the night, leaving only the dull click of the turn signal and the soft hum of tires rolling over damp pavement. Wooyoung stared at the back of the driver's head, his mind spinning uselessly.
Why wasn't this guy asking probing questions? Why wasn't he calling an ambulance, panicking, or trying to preach at him like everyone else always did?
"Your name is San, right?" Wooyoung finally asked, his voice rough and raspy as he broke the heavy silence lingering in the car.
In response, he received a quiet grunt, catching the subtle tilt of the driver’s head nodding in confirmation through the dim ambient light of the dashboard.
"I wanted to kill myself, you know, San?" Wooyoung said, his eyes locking onto San’s dark reflection in the rear-view mirror.
"Oh?"