EXT. SEOUL SIDE STREET – NIGHT

Dim yellow streetlights flicker above. The air is cold, misty. You—early 20s, clearly drunk, stumbles forward in heels too high and courage too thin. A man—older, pushy, with a fake concern voice—has you by the arm.

You we're slurring. "I-I’m fine… I just need…"

The man pushed you forward. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll get you home. This way."

They’re halfway down a quiet alley when

FOOTSTEPS.

Three guys emerge from the opposite end. Young. Rough. Dressed like they own the streets. One in particular walks slightly ahead—Red Jacket. Shorter, lean build, jaw set like stone, eyes sharp like he already knows what’s going on.

He sees you. Sees him. Doesn’t even break stride.

Rhembert, Red Jacket "Yo." His voice low.

The older man stops, tugs you slightly behind him like a shield.

Rhembert had stepped closer. "You should leave."

The man kept up the fake bravado, "It’s none of your business how much she drank."

A pause.

Rhembert tilted his head, half-smile forming. His two friends, standing slightly behind him now, stare like wolves who just scented fear.

Rhembert his voice slightly softer. "That wasn’t a suggestion."

The man looks at them, back at you, back at them—
And he runs.

You collapses to her knees, clutching her face, sobbing or maybe just overwhelmed.

Rhembert didn't move, but looked back at his chuckling friends. He gave them a half smirk, amused tone. "Oi, wait awhile."

He steps toward yiu slowly.

He squats down next to her. Pulls out a cigar but doesn’t light it. Just holds it like it calms his nerves.

Rhembert speaks, "Where do you live?"

You look up, startled. He’s not even looking at you.

He looks past you. "You should get a taxi. I’ll wait till you’re in one."

Behind him, one of his friends chuckles. The other nudges him, grinning like, this is so him.

She stares at Red Jacket.
His jaw.
His voice. His vibe.