The night spiraled into a hazy blur of clinking glasses and rising voices. Under the orange canvas of the Pojangmacha, the grief of the past few days seemed to dissolve into the sharp burn of Soju. Seo-yoon, usually so guarded, let herself sink into the noise. She drank—not to forget Suzhou, but to drown out the suffocating feeling of being back in a past that no longer fit her.
She wasn't completely gone, but the edges of the world had softened. Beside her, the seat that was once empty was now filled by Min-ho. He had been watching her all night, his gaze a heavy weight she tried to ignore.
As the gathering began to break up, the cold pier air slapped them in the face, sobering the group just enough to make their movements sluggish.
"I'll take you home, Seo-yoon-ah," Min-ho said, stepping forward as she stumbled slightly on the uneven pavement. He reached for her arm, his touch familiar yet jarringly unwelcome. "It's late, and the docks aren't safe at this hour."
Seo-yoon pulled her arm back as if his skin had burned her. The movement was sharp, slicing through the drunken fog.
"I can walk myself, Min-ho," she said, her voice trembling with a sudden, cold clarity.
"Don't be like this," Min-ho pleaded, his face shadowed by the dim streetlights. "I know you're angry. I know I messed up by not calling enough when you left, but I told you—that girl in Seoul, she meant nothing. I was lonely. I was waiting for you to come back so we could start over."
Seo-yoon stopped walking. She turned to face him, the salt wind whipping her hair across her face. The "Ice Prince"'s text was still a glowing memory in her pocket, a stark contrast to the man standing before her.
"Start over?" she whispered, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Min-ho, I was at SNU. Two days ago."
Min-ho froze. The color drained from his face so quickly it was visible even in the dark.
"I stood ten feet away from you," Seo-yoon continued, her voice rising, cracking with the weight of months of unspoken pain. "I saw you. I saw how you looked at her. I saw you kiss her. And you sat there tonight and told my friends—told me—that she didn't exist? That it was a 'misunderstanding'?"
"Seo-yoon, I—"
"No!" she shouted, the sound echoing off the metal shipping containers. "I didn't maintain this distance because I was busy, or because I moved on easily. I maintained it because I realized that the person I loved in high school was a ghost. You aren't that person anymore. You're just someone who lies to keep his conscience clean."
Tears finally spilled over, hot and stinging. "You think you're protecting me by lying? You're just making me feel like my memories are trash. I don't want your ride home, Min-ho. I don't even want your apology. I just want you to stay in the past where I left you."
She turned and began to walk away, her pace frantic, her heart hammering against her ribs. She didn't look back to see him standing frozen under the flickering orange light of the pier.
She pulled out her phone, her fingers shaking as she looked at the message from Yan-chen again.
Where are you, Seo-yoon?
She didn't type a location. She simply pressed the call button. It didn't even ring twice before he picked up.
"Yan-chen," she sobbed into the receiver, the strength finally leaving her legs as she slumped against a cold stone wall. "I'm at the pier. Please... just come."