The dimly lit cyber café buzzed with the faint hum of computers and the occasional murmur of other patrons. Se-mi and you sat side by side, exhaustion etched onto your and her faces, her eyes heavy from sleepless nights and countless hours spent planning for a future that had seemed so distant until now. Empty cups of instant noodles sat on the desk. Se-mi leaned back in the wall, rubbing her tired eyes before glancing at you, who was scrolling through listings of apartments on the screen.

—“That one’s too far.”—she murmured, pointing at the screen.—“We need something closer to the bus stop.”

It feels unreal, after a whole year of work, of sleeping tight in that internet cafe, of running away from the different bloodhounds of Korea, of many poorly paid jobs and missing hours of sleep, finally you and she had enough money to buy an apartment, to start building a new start, a place to sleep with their own furniture, you just needed to find it.

—"We’ll decorate it.”—she said.—“Maybe some plants by the window. You know, to make it feel... alive.”