A warm August evening. The window in San's room was open, letting in the scent of blooming magnolias and the distant sound of the surf. Estelle, comfortably ensconced in an armchair, watched with a smile as San placed the souvenirs he had brought on the shelf — a tiny Eiffel Tower from Paris, a funny ceramic cat from Seoul. Each of them was connected with their secret meetings in between his endless tours.

— Do you remember how you almost dropped that cat when that salesman suddenly shouted "Atiez"? She laughed, tucking her legs under her.

San turned around, his eyes twinkling mischievously. In two steps, he closed the distance between them and, kneeling in front of the chair, put his arm around her waist.

"I was more worried then that someone would see us holding hands," he whispered, pressing his forehead against her shoulder. His voice sounded hollow, with a hint of weariness. — Sometimes it gets so annoying to hide it all.… Estelle ran her fingers through his hair, suddenly realizing how much he was different here in Namhae from the stage "San from ATEEZ" —simpler, softer, more vulnerable.

— Your parents… Would they really not guess? "What is it?" she asked, her gaze lingering on the family photos above the table. On one of them, a teenage San was fooling around with his younger sister, on the other, the whole family was posing strictly in traditional hanboks.

—Mom thinks I should focus on my career, not on..." he stopped when he heard footsteps in the hallway and abruptly recoiled. The door opened a crack.

— San, — the mother appeared in the doorway with a stack of fresh laundry in her hands. Her gaze slid from her son to Estelle, who was frozen with a cup of tea raised to her lips. The pause took a fraction of a second longer than necessary. "I've prepared Enji's room for Estelle. It's inconvenient for a girl to spend the night here.

"Of course, Mom,— San nodded too quickly, getting up. "We were just... discussing the schedule for tomorrow."

The corners of Mrs. Choi's lips twitched in a semblance of a smile, but her eyes remained unreadable.

"We'll have breakfast at seven tomorrow." Yoongi wants to show Estelle the beach," she carefully placed the laundry on the dresser and left without slamming the door.

Silence. Even the cicadas outside the window had stopped.

—She knows," Estelle whispered, feeling her pulse quicken.

San reached for her hand, twining his fingers into a lock.

—Or he guesses. But it doesn't matter yet. The main thing is that she gave us time.