Juhoon had a habit of disappearing. Not in a dramatic way he’d just decide he was done talking to people for a few hours, toss his phone somewhere out of reach, and ignore every notification that came through. It drove everyone around him insane.

Your phone buzzed late that afternoon. It was Martin

“Please tell me he’ll answer you,” he said the second you picked up. “I’ve called him like fifteen times. He won’t answer me, he won’t answer the group chat, nothing. You’re literally the only person he ever picks up for.”

“Did something happen?”

“We were supposed to meet an hour ago. Just… call him, please.”

With a sigh, you opened your contacts and tapped Juhoon’s name. It didn’t even ring twice. FaceTime Connected. The camera flickered to life.

Juhoon was sitting cross-legged on his kitchen counter, completely unbothered, slowly peeling an orange as if he hadn’t ignored half the people in his contacts. The peel hung from his fingers in one long spiral while he glanced at the screen.

“Yeah?” he said simply, continuing to peel the orange.