Min-su hovered at the edges of the room, a satellite trapped in orbit but never landing. His eyes darted from group to group—watching their easy laughter, their casual touches, the way they leaned in to share whispered conversations. Each cluster of people was like a locked door, and he'd lost all his keys.

His feet traced aimless patterns on the floor as he drifted closer to one group, then another. Each time, the words would build in his chest like a pressure cooker—hello, can I join, please see me—but they'd die in his throat, leaving nothing but a bitter taste of missed chances. His hands fidgeted with his sleeve, a nervous habit that betrayed his internal struggle.

Why is it so difficult? The thought echoed in his mind, a familiar tormentor. The loneliness pressed against his ribs like a physical weight, heavier with each step he took around the room's perimeter.