between

Your alarm went off in what felt like a few minutes. 7:30 AM. As you forced yourself awake, you checked your schedule for the day. Introductions to people you’d never see again after this trip, meetings, back-to-back presentations, then a company lunch. The kind of work you had gotten used to. You got ready quietly, prepared to step into the same routine of work you had gone through countless times. 

Throughout the morning, you stayed busy. Handshakes, introductions, names you forgot almost as soon as they were said. You played your part well. Smiled at the icebreakers with your new coworkers, took initiative when needed, and spoke confidently enough that nobody seemed to notice your eyes staring into space every few minutes. 

By the time lunch came around, you had settled back into yourself. The conversations came easier now. The presentations were over, the pressure mostly gone. Around the table, you carried yourself effortlessly. Jumping between conversations, you made the newer hires laugh, and earned easy smiles from coworkers you’d only met that morning. This was you. Comfortable and charming.

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down, expecting an email or a work notification.

Minju.

The noise around you dulled instantly.

“You good?”

You looked up. One of your coworkers was watching you.

“Yeah,” you answered quickly. “Just got a text from… a friend.”

One of the guys across the table grinned. “A friend, huh?”

You shook your head, picking up your phone.

Minju

good morning

morning? its 1, im having lunch already.

oops lol can u blame me for sleeping in? i had such a long schedule yesterday

Without meaning to, you smiled.

“You’re smiling at your phone.” someone across the table pointed out immediately.

A few people laughed.

You rolled your eyes, putting down your phone. “You guys are annoying.”

“Just a friend, right?” another coworker said.

You ignored him, but the smile on your face hadn’t disappeared yet. Your phone buzzed again.

how’s the trip so far?

its just work, lots of meetings and stuff

sounds exhausting

it pays well

wow u really became a wage slave smh

You let out a quiet laugh through your nose. The familiarity of it caught you off guard more than anything else. It was as if you hadn’t spent years avoiding her. Another buzz.

when do u get off work?

are u free later?

This was a bad idea. You knew it was. Seeing her once by accident was one thing. Texting her now was another, and intentionally meeting up with her again was something else entirely. Still, your fingers moved anyway.

depends, what did u have in mind?

wow that sounds awfully close to a yes to me

don’t get used to it

too late

i already started missing u a little yesterday

Your chest tightened before you could stop it. You locked your phone and leaned back slightly in your chair, trying to focus on the conversation around you again.

It didn’t work.

Your phone buzzed once more.

i know a place

its quiet dw no one will bother us

does 8 work for u?

send me the address

By the time you arrived, the sun had long set.

The place Minju sent you was in the middle of a narrow street, small enough that you walked past it the first time. Warm, orange light glowed through the windows, spilling out onto the sidewalk. It was lowkey. Hidden enough so that no one would look twice.

Of course she’d know about a place like this.

You checked your phone before walking in.

i’m here

turn around lol

You did exactly that, and there she was.

Minju stood a few steps behind you, a mask pulled down to her chin, dressed in a way that seemed effortless. An oversized jacket, hair down, with what looked like an expensive bag over her shoulder.

“I saw you walk right past it, you know?” she teased.

“It’s barely marked. And Maps wasn’t exactly helping me out either.”

“That’s the point. It’s a hidden gem.” She stepped past you, her hand reaching for the door. “Come on.”

Inside, the place was small. Wooden tables, low lighting. It was cozy. A few others sat around, all of them paying attention to their own conversations.

Minju slid into a booth by the window, and you sat across from her.

You picked up a menu, scanning through it. “So, anything you recommend?”

Minju reached over with a smile, taking the menu from your hands. “Don’t worry. I got you.”

You smiled. “Nothing too spicy?”

“Hm… just a little.” she said with a grin.

A waiter came by to take your orders, and Minju ordered immediately without looking at the menu. Two orders of fried chicken, tteokbokki, and noodles.

“You come here often?” you asked after the waiter left.

She nodded. “Sometimes. It’s quiet here. Nice after schedules.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“Yeah.”

The words sat in the air before Minju spoke up.

“Hey. Do you still play League?”

“Huh? Not really. Not since I graduated.” You laughed a bit, thinking back to when the two of you would play together. “What? You need me to carry you like before?”

She punched you softly on the arm. “Hey! I hit Platinum on my own since then!”

You teased back, a grin on your face. “Really? You were pretty bad back then. As soon as I started queuing without you, I started ranking up.”

She gasped, “That is so rude. I would carry you all the time on my Katarina!”

Shaking your head, you replied, "Half of the time when you came down bot, you’d just feed yourself to their ADC. I couldn’t play when you were running it down in my lane.”

She narrowed her eyes. "You’re acting like I didn’t carry you through your promos that one time."

“Yeah. That one time when I was already hard winning and giga fed? Tell me why you couldn’t get out of Gold, but as soon as I queued without you, I hit Diamond?”

She was pouting now, arms crossed. “I can’t believe you’re really flaming me now. This is the first time we’ve seen each other in years, and this is what you do?”

“You asked.”

“I asked if you still played. I didn’t ask for you to flame me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A real laugh, one that came out before you could think about shaping it into something controlled. Minju’s pout curved into a smile, as she pointed her finger at you.

“For the record, I carried plenty of games. You just weren’t there to see them.”

“Real convenient, huh?”

The food arrived before she could respond. The fried chicken was golden, steaming and crackling from the oil. The tteokbokki was thick and dark red, and Minju immediately took a bite.

Chewing, she told you, “Try it. It’s good.”

You obliged, picking up your chopsticks and taking a bite. The heat hit about two seconds later.

“I thought…” You took a sip of water. “You said a little spicy.”

“This is a little spicy.”

“My mouth is burning.”

“You’ve been away for too long,” she said, shaking her head. “Can’t eat spicy anymore?”

You drank the rest of your water as she watched you with a satisfied expression.

“So,” she said, “How was it over there in America?”

You leaned back in your chair. “It was good.”

Minju stared at you expectantly. “That’s it?”

“What? What did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, anything at all? You disappeared to another country for years. I deserve more than just ‘it was good.’”

You sighed. “School was hard at first. It was a bit hard getting used to everything. But eventually I got myself together and figured everything out.”

“You always do.” she replied immediately, like it wasn’t something she had to think about.

You looked at her for a brief moment before glancing back down at the table.

“Made some friends, graduated, started working.” You shrugged. “Nothing that interesting.”

“You’re lying.”

“Hm?”

“You’re literally successful now.” She gestured toward you. “Like, aren’t you really successful now? My mom told me.”

You blinked. “Your mom?”

Minju nodded casually, reaching for another piece of chicken. “Yeah. Our parents still talk, you know.”

Your chest tightened.

Your mothers had probably, no, definitely spoken more in the past few years than you two had.

“She said that your company got bought out or something,” Minju continued. “And that you moved into some expensive apartment.”

You chuckled quietly. “You’re literally famous now.”

Her expression shifted. “I’m not that famous.”

“I saw you on billboards as I was coming here. And the drink you got the other day literally had your face on it.”

She groaned softly. “Can you not?”

“What?” you said, grinning. “You’re a celebrity now.”

“Okay? But you’re rich now.”

“Yeah? But you’re rich and famous.” You said, shaking your head and smiling.

She shook her head, smiling. "We're really sitting here arguing about who's more successful."

“You started it.”

“Did not.”

She finished her piece of chicken and groaned. “I’m stuffed.”

You looked at the table, plates still full of food. “How am I supposed to finish the rest of this? You ordered too much.”

“I ordered the right amount. You’re just slow.” She leaned back against the booth, satisfied. “Split the leftovers to go?”

“Works for me.”

You looked at her. Minju looked comfortable. Tired, but comfortable.

“This is nice.” she said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“Seriously. I don’t really get to do this anymore. Just sit somewhere and just… talk.” She turned her glass of water on the table idly. “Most of the time when I’m out, it’s with the members, or my manager’s with me. And it’s fine, but it’s not—"

“Not what?”

She thought about it. “Not this, I guess.”

You didn’t know what to say to that.

She filled the silence herself. “I went out with all of the members to a place like this one, actually. Right after our first win. I was crying, like, ugly crying, and they just dragged me out to some tiny noodle place and made me eat until I was okay again.”

She laughed at the memory.

“Sounds like a good time.” you said.

“It was.” She looked at you. “I wanted to call you that night, actually.”

You paused.

“After the first win?” you asked.

“Yeah. I almost did.” she shrugged. “But it was like 5 in the morning for you, so.”

That’s not why she didn’t call. You knew.

“Well,” she said, getting up. “That was a long time ago.”

Outside, the narrow street was empty. Minju walked beside you, hands in her pockets, matching your pace. Neither of you said anything for a while. It was the kind of silence that used to sit between you in parked cars, or on walks just like this one. Comfortable in a way that felt earned, even though you weren't sure you'd earned it anymore. She stopped at the corner.

“This was fun.” she said, turning to you.

“Yeah, it was.”

She rocked on her heels. “We should do this again. Before you leave.”

“Yeah.”

A pause. She looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite place before she blinked it away. A car pulled up at the corner.

“My manager’s here to pick me up. Talk to you later?” she asked.

“Sure. Get home safe. Night.”

“Good night.” she said with a smile.

She turned and got in the car. You watched as the car drove away, and then you turned the other way.

The walk back to the hotel was quiet. As you walked, the night replayed in your head. The way she talked about her life, catching you up on everything you’d missed. The way she said, “I wanted to call you that night” like it was nothing.

In your hotel room, you dropped your things by the door, and laid in bed without turning the lights on.

Your phone buzzed.

Minju

got back safe. had a lot of fun tn. tell me when ur free so we can do it again before u leave!!

yeah, had a great time. get some sleep

yeah yeah, good night :))

night

You set your phone on the nightstand and lay back, staring at the same ceiling from the night before.

The next few days blurred together.

Work was the same. Meetings, presentations, the same routine you were used to. You led your team, did your part, and said all the right things.

Every moment in between belonged to her.

Minju texted you constantly. Not pestering you, but just ever present. A photo of her morning coffee. A complaint about not getting what she wanted from her blind boxes, and a screenshot of her League rank with a single emoji (😎).

You replied to all of them.

You told yourself it was just because you were here. Because it was just temporary, and it’d be weird not to after seeing each other again.

On Wednesday, she sent you a video of herself in a practice room, sweating and out of breath.

help me

looks rough

i hate you

u free later?

why? miss me?

…

sry would love to meet tn but late practice and early schedule tomorrow

all good

That night, at around 10 PM, you were on your phone in bed, scrolling through videos you were barely watching when Minju texted you.

finished late. exhausted. u still up?

yeah, u ok?

yeah just tired

can i call u?

You stared at the message before responding.

yeah

Your phone rang a few seconds later.

“Hey.” she said. Her voice sounded different. Flat. Exhausted.

“Hey. Rough day?”

“Mm.” She paused, and you heard fabric shifting as she curled up in her blanket. “We practiced the choreo like a hundred times today. My legs don’t work anymore.”

“A hundred times?”

“I’m exaggerating. But the director’s insane, and he kept saying ‘one more’, and I couldn’t keep count.”

“Sounds… rough.”

“I’m so tired,” she said, quieter now.

“Go to sleep then.”

“I can’t. My brain won’t turn off.” She paused again. “Talk to me. Tell me about something. Anything. Something boring.”

“Something boring?”

“Like work stuff. Help me sleep.”

You laughed. “Want me to explain what I had to present today?”

“Perfect.”

You started talking. You began with everything you presented at work—quarterly sales, equity, but quickly transitioned to just talking about your week. The coworker who’d microwave their broccoli and fish in the break room. The vending machine outside of your work that didn’t work and just ate your money. The time you were craving American food and you tried a so-called American spot nearby only to bite into a burger that was sweet.

Small things. Just things.

She listened. She laughed quietly, hummed in acknowledgement. Her responses got shorter and softer.

“Hey.” you said after a while.

“Minju.”

Quiet breathing.

She’d fallen asleep.

You should’ve hung up then and there. Instead, you sat there and listened to her breathe for longer than you’d ever admit.

Then you hung up.

This is temporary.

That’s what you told yourself. You’d be gone soon. This won’t mean anything.

She called the next night too.

“Today was better,” she said moodily. “Finished early. We didn’t get yelled at today.”

“Good to hear. Something wrong? You sound… off.”

“I was just thinking that it would’ve been nice to see you tonight. But you had to work late. Instead I played League the whole night. I deranked too.”

You laughed. “Back in Gold?”

“No! No way. I demoted from Plat 1 to Plat 2. I’m not that bad, okay? It’s not like you’re much better, when you’re hardstuck Diamond.” she pouted.

“Me? Hardstuck?”

“Yeah, you. Last I saw, you were hardstuck.” she said, matter-of-factly.

“I’m not hardstuck anymore, okay? I played a decent amount in uni, you know?”

“Oh, really? What rank did you hit then?” she asked, skeptically.

“…”

“So?” she pressed.

“…I hit Challenger.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious. I’ll send you a screenshot.”

You sent it.

“No way. It has to be easier over there in America. They’re probably like Gold over here.” she said.

“Need me to carry you sometime?” you teased.

“Shut up.”

The calls became a thing. Not anything planned. She’d text you late, you’d call, or she’d call, and you’d talk until one of you drifted off. Sometimes it was twenty minutes, and others would last two hours, and you wouldn’t realize until you checked the time.

She told you about how she’d gone on the variety shows the two of you would watch when you were younger. About how she hated the shoes that they’d make her wear for performances. About the time her members caught her eating shredded cheese straight out of the bag at midnight.

You told her about your time in university. About the time you overslept for your final and you had to beg your professor to make it up. About how you tried every Korean restaurant near your apartment before you found one that was actually good. About how you had nothing to do but grind League all day during your breaks.

One night, it was quiet for a long time. Still. You thought she’d fallen asleep.

Then she said, “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad I ran into you. That night at the convenience store?”

You didn’t say anything.

“I didn’t know if I was going to see you again. I’d thought about it. What I’d say if I ever ran into you again. I don’t know. I’m just glad.”

You gripped your phone tighter.

“I’m glad too.” you said.

Minju laughed softly. Quiet and content.

“Good.” she murmured.

You stayed on the phone for a little longer. Long enough for the conversation to drift into the smaller things again. Eventually, she fell asleep first.

You stared at the ceiling of your room in silence.

The words replayed in your head over and over. “I’m glad I ran into you.”

The more she talked to you like this, the more unbearable it became. It was like you hadn’t disappeared. Like those years apart didn’t matter. Like what she said back then didn’t matter.

“Don’t disappear on me.”

She should be angry. She should hate you. Instead, she was making room for you.

Minju sent you an address. No restaurant this time. Just a pin on a street corner.

You stood there for a few minutes before a car pulled up on the sidewalk next to you.

“Get in.” she said.

You got in, closed the door, and put on your seatbelt. You looked at her.

“You drive now?”

"I got my license last year," she said, pulling back onto the road. "Took me three tries."

"Three?"

"The first time, I hit a cone. The second time, I hit a different cone. Third time, no cones."

"That's a low bar."

"I passed, didn't I?" She glanced at you, grinning. "Seatbelt?"

"It's on."

"Just checking. I take passenger safety very seriously."

"You failed twice."

"And I learned from both times."

Your hands were sweaty around the grab handle. Minju drove the way she did everything. A little too fast and a little too confident.

“Where are we headed?” you asked.

“Somewhere. It’s a surprise.”

“Should I be worried?”

“You’ll worry anyway.”

She drove for about twenty minutes, the bright lights of the city getting farther away. Eventually, she turned onto a narrow road along a hill, pulling into a small clearing. She parked, and leaned back.

You looked through the windshield.

The city was spread out below you, wide and glowing. Thousands of tiny lights bleeding into each other, stretching as far as the eye could see. A view to die for.

"Found this place a few months ago," she said. "I come here sometimes when I need to think."

"It's nice."

"Right?" She tucked her legs up onto the seat, turning to face you. "Nobody knows about it. It's just mine."

“You leave tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow night, yeah.”

“That’s so soon.”

“I know.”

“It was a good week, though.” she said. “Really good.”

You looked at her. She was staring at the city, her face lit up by the glow from below.

“You should come back soon,” she said. “Like actually. Not in another five years.”

“…Yeah.” You offered a smile, but could only look down.

“Good.” She smiled. “We’ll figure it out.”

She was already planning a future that included you in it. And you were sitting there, knowing you hadn’t earned any of it.

“I could visit you too. If I get a break from my schedule. It’d be nice.” She continued. “You’ll have to show me around. And I’ll get to try all of the food. It’ll be fun.”

Then she looked at you, and her expression softened.

"I missed this," she said. "I missed you."

The silence lingered. It was nauseating.

“…You don’t have to keep doing that.”

Minju blinked. “Doing what?”

“Acting like… everything’s okay.”

A pause.

“It is okay.” she said, too quickly.

You let out a quiet laugh. “No. It’s not.”

She shifted slightly. “Why are you making it into something it’s not?”

“Because it is something, Minju.” you said, sharper now. “I promised you. But I disappeared on you for years. I didn’t say a thing.”

Her expression faltered, but only for a second.

“It’s fine.” she said softly. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“No. No, Minju. You’re acting like everything’s fine, but it’s not. You’re saying the fact that I’m here now makes everything okay?” Your voice was louder than you meant it to be. “It was by accident, Minju. By accident! If I didn’t have this work trip, if I didn’t walk into that convenience store at that exact moment, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now! You know that, right?”

She didn’t answer.

“You’d still be someone I used to know.” you said, quieter now. The yelling had burned through you fast, and what was left was worse. “And I would’ve let it happen.”

Minju’s hands were in her lap. She wasn’t looking at you.

“So, please. Stop acting like I deserve to be here,” you said. “Stop making plans. Stop calling me every night like I didn’t—”

Your voice broke.

“Like I didn’t leave you behind. Like I didn’t disappear.”

Silence.

The city below kept going.

When Minju finally spoke, her voice was even. “Are you done?”

She turned to face you. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn’t crying.

“You think I don’t know it was an accident?” she said. “You think I haven’t thought about that? That if you’d gone to a different store, or gone on a different night, I’d still be waiting for a text that was never coming?”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

“I know, okay? I know you didn’t come here for me. I know you wouldn’t have called. I’ve known that for years.” Her voice was shaking, but she kept going. “I know. I sat with that, and I lived with it for a really long time. And it was awful. But I got through it.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, quick.

“I know what you did,” she said, quieter now. “I’ve always known. And it hurt. It hurt so much, and I never told you because I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to sit here, yelling and crying, because that doesn’t fix anything.”

She looked down at her hands.

“You want me to be honest? I’ll be honest.” She paused. “I did hate you. There were so many nights I hated you. There were nights I’d pick up my phone and type out everything I wanted to say to you and then delete it, because what was the point? You weren’t going to answer anyway.”

A tear slipped down her cheek.

“And then I’d visit home, and I’d see that my mom and your mom would still talk to each other, and I’d know that you were okay. You just weren’t okay with me.”

Your chest caved in.

“But then you were… you were just standing there. You were there. You were here now.”

“Minju—”

“No. Let me talk. You know, I told my groupmates about you. They told me I shouldn’t even give you a chance after what you did to me. And they were probably right. But I couldn’t help it. Maybe, deep down, I was hoping that you had changed, that you were an asshole now, just some piece of shit who ghosted me, so I could just hate you and finally have closure. But you weren’t. You were the same. The same person who I’d gone through everything with. The same person who supported me all the way here. The same person who told me he loved me.”

The words hit you before you could brace for them.

You couldn’t move. She’d said it like it was something she’d been holding onto for years.

Minju’s breathing was uneven. She was looking at you now, with nothing left to hide behind.

“So no,” she said, her voice barely holding. “I’m not pretending everything’s fine. I’m not acting. I know exactly what you did. I remember all of it.”

She wiped her face.

“When I found out you hadn’t changed, that you were still you? I thought, I don’t care. I don’t care how, I don’t care why.” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t want to lose you again.”

The car was so quiet you could hear her breath catch.

You tried to say something. Her name, maybe. Anything. But everything felt too small for what she'd just given you.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

It came out barely above a whisper. It was broken, but it was all you could give her.

Minju closed her eyes, and pressed her lips together, trying to stop herself from coming apart completely.

A long moment passed.

“Okay.” she said, quietly.

It wasn’t forgiveness. It was just acknowledgement.

She turned away and looked out of the window at the city. You could only do the same.

Neither of you spoke for a long time.

At some point, you felt her hand reach over and rest on top of yours. It was soft, light. Barely there. Like she wasn’t sure if it was okay, but she did it anyway.

You didn’t pull away.