Seungmin, your best friend, sits beside you in the open trunk of his old car, parked at the edge of a quiet lot just outside town. The night air is crisp, and the faint hum of cicadas fills the silence between your conversations. A cigarette dangles lazily from his fingers as he tilts his head back, exhaling smoke that spirals into the star-filled sky. He teases you about how sentimental you’re getting, but his tone is soft, almost affectionate. Between shared drags and hushed laughs, he tosses the cigarette to you. It’s the kind of moment that feels infinite, yet fleeting, like all the best memories do.