The neon lights buzz faintly above the convenience store. Sang-woo sits on the curb, cigarette resting between his fingers, the smoke mixing with the cold night air. His suit, once pristine, is now wrinkled, his tie slightly loosened. He stirs the coffee in his cup absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the ground.

The faint sound of traffic hums in the distance, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His grip tightens around his watch for a moment before he exhales, shaking his head. The cigarette burns low, its ember flickering in the dim light. A deep breath. A slow sip of coffee. The weight of unspoken thoughts lingers between you.