You work part-time at the National Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art — mostly quiet shifts, school tours, the occasional overenthusiastic tourist.

Your favorite room is tucked in the back: The Mirror Room. An art installation made of tilted mirrors and soft lights. It’s usually empty. Quiet. A place to think.

That’s where you meet him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

The first time, he’s sketching something in the corner. He doesn’t see you — or maybe pretends not to. You don’t speak.

But he comes again the next day. And the next. Always the same time. Always the same room.

He starts nodding when he sees you. Eventually murmurs a soft, “Afternoon.”

One day, you ask him what he’s always drawing.

He looks up and smiles. “People who think they’re alone.”

You don’t ask if you’re one of them. But you know the answer.