After Hours

The late drive out of Seoul started quietly. The kind of late where the city slowly stopped pretending to be alive. Streetlights stretched across the windshield in long golden streaks while soft music played low enough that neither of us bothered acknowledging it properly. Beside me, Ryujin sat with one leg tucked beneath herself while scrolling through her phone with the dangerous calmness of somebody who had already emotionally committed to causing problems several hours ago.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” she muttered without looking up.
“That sentence makes absolutely no medical sense.”
“You still understood it.”

Fair. I glanced briefly toward her afterward before returning my attention to the road again.

“You know normal people usually ask before abducting somebody in front of a crowd.”
“You got into the car voluntarily.” Ryujin snorted softly beside me.
“That feels legally debatable.”
“You’re being dramatic again.”
“You stole my keys earlier.”
“Yet you’re the one driving.”

The silence settled comfortably again afterward. Not the softer kind I shared with Yeji. Different. Sharper. Like both of us were constantly waiting to see who would provoke the other first. That dynamic somehow suited Ryujin disturbingly well.

A few minutes later her eyes shifted away from the phone briefly toward me again.

“…So how many houses do you actually own?”
“That sounded financially judgmental.”
“That sounded like avoidance.”
“That sounded invasive.”
“That sounded correct.” I sighed softly afterward.
“Enough that I don’t actively think about it anymore.”

Ryujin slowly lowered her phone now.

“…That’s the most rich person answer you’ve ever given me.”
“In my defense, you people profile me constantly.”
“Because you act suspiciously wealthy.”
“I literally accepted minimum wage from JYPE.”
“You bought an entire floor.”
“That was emotional support architecture.”
“Nope, that sentence still sounds fake.”

Another quieter silence settled between us afterward while the city lights slowly gave way to darker roads and quieter neighborhoods. “Why this house?” I kept one hand against the steering wheel while answering honestly “Closest one”.

“That somehow concerns me more.” The corner of Ryujin’s mouth twitched slightly afterward before she leaned her head back comfortably against the seat again. For somebody who spent most of her life constantly observed by cameras, fans, staff, and schedules— she looked strangely relaxed disappearing into the dark like this.

By the time we finally arrived, the neighborhood itself had already gone almost completely silent. Ryujin stared openly out the window while I pulled into the driveway. Then paused.

“…Ben.”
“That sounded like another comment.”
“What the hell is this?”
“That sounds judgmental towards the architect who designed the place.”
“This is a rich villain house.”
“I feel like villains usually have more sinister lighting.”
“You absolutely have hidden wine cellars in here.”
“That’s ridiculous.”

A pause.

“…There IS a wine cellar though.”
“Oh my god.” Ryujin immediately folded forward laughing against the dashboard.
“In my defense, it came with the house.”

The inside of the house felt significantly colder than the Top Floor. Less lived in. Expensive in the way old money usually tried pretending it wasn’t. Ryujin noticed immediately. “You don’t stay here much”. More observation “…Not really.”

“Why?”
I set the car keys down near the kitchen counter before answering honestly.
“It’s too quiet.”

That earned a glance from her. A smaller one this time. Less teasing. Then eventually she walked farther into the living room area before dropping onto the couch casually while kicking her shoes off without asking permission. At this point I respected the consistency.

“Alright emotional support manager,” she muttered while looking around the house afterward.
“Where’s the alcohol?”
“There’s something deeply concerning about how comfortable you are saying that title now.”
“You made it your whole personality.”
“That feels unfair.”
“But is it inaccurate?”

Unfortunately? She’s right. I grabbed two glasses afterward while Ryujin wandered toward the massive windows overlooking the dark city lights below “…It’s weird”. I glanced toward her briefly “What is?”. Ryujin folded her arms loosely while still staring out the glass “You. You’re ridiculously rich. You could literally disappear and never work again if you wanted to.” She glanced back toward me afterward. “But instead you willingly spend your days getting yelled at by five emotionally unstable women.”

“That description feels incredibly biased.”
“It’s also true.”

I handed her a glass afterward before leaning back lightly against the kitchen counter “You’re all worth the headache”.  There it was. The smallest shift. But noticeable. Because Ryujin looked away first afterward.

Ryujin eventually wandered back toward the kitchen island afterward before taking a slower sip from the glass in her hand. Then she narrowed her eyes slightly.

“…You know what bothers me?”
“You have never used that sentence on me with good intentions.”
“Well that’s cause you answer questions like a politician.”
“That feels professionally offensive.”
“You dodge everything.” I took a slower sip from my own drink afterward.
“That’s because you ask questions like an interrogator.”
“Because you act suspicious constantly.”
“I manage idols for a living. Suspicion is survival.”

Ryujin pointed at me immediately. “See? That.” She leaned lightly against the counter afterward. “Normal people don’t say things like that.”

“Normal people also don’t survive entertainment companies.”
“That sounded deeply experienced.”

Ryujin studied me quietly for another moment afterward before continuing “So what’s the actual story with you?” Dangerous question. Invasively a very dangerous question.

I already knew “actual story” could mean family, money, education, why I took the job, or why I seemed emotionally exhausted at thirty despite technically being successful enough to disappear from society permanently.

The problem with observant people was that they eventually noticed the shape of the things you avoided. Ryujin especially.

“You’re gonna need to narrow that down significantly.”
“Nope.” She took another sip casually. “I want all of it.”
“That sounds emotionally greedy.”
“That sounds correct.”

Then she started counting lazily with one finger.
“Why are you rich?”
“Why psychology?”
“Why do you look emotionally tired all the time?”
“Why tattoos?”
“Why do you care so much about wellbeing?”
“Why are you weirdly good at reading people?”
“And why do I feel like half your personality is professionally curated damage control?”

Silence. An interesting sequence of observations. I stared at her slowly afterward. “…You’re alarmingly perceptive after alcohol.” Ryujin grinned slightly “You’re alarmingly avoidant while sober”.  Another unfortunately correct observation.

I leaned lightly back against the counter afterward while debating internally how much honesty I was willing to survive tonight. Then eventually I decided to partake. “My mother.” Ryujin blinked once. She probably didn’t expect an actual answer that quickly. I rotated the glass once slowly in my hand afterward before continuing. “She worked herself into the ground most of her life.” I shrugged lightly afterward. “Smartest person I knew. Also the worst at resting.” The teasing atmosphere softened slightly. “She died younger than she should’ve”.

The room went quieter afterward. No pity from Ryujin. No dramatic reaction. Which honestly made it easier to keep talking. “I spent a long time realizing most people don’t collapse all at once.” I looked down briefly at the amber liquid in the glass afterward “Usually it happens slowly enough that nobody notices until they stop functioning”.

Ryujin stayed quiet. Actually quiet. Very rare for her. “So now,” I continued more lightly afterward, “I annoy emotionally exhausted celebrities professionally.”

“That sounds like emotional deflection.”
“Still an accurate description.”

The corner of Ryujin’s mouth twitched slightly again afterward. But this time the teasing didn’t fully return. Instead, she leaned lightly against the opposite side of the counter while looking at me differently now. Not softer. Just understanding something new. “That’s why you bought the floor.” Not question. Observation. I exhaled quietly through my nose afterward “Partially why”. Ryujin stared at me another second before taking another sip. “Okay now I feel slightly bad for bullying you financially.”

“That implies you’re stopping.”
“I’m absolutely not stopping.”

Well, she’s back. Psychological stability restored. I laughed softly under my breath afterward while Ryujin walked around the island counter closer now before casually stealing the bottle directly out of my hand.

“That’s criminal.”
“You’re rich. Recover emotionally.”
“That sounded concerningly communist.”
“That sounded deserved.”

Then she leaned beside me against the counter afterward while pouring herself another drink with visible satisfaction. Only to suddenly pause. Ryujin slowly tilted the bottle slightly afterward before narrowing her eyes at something attached near the bottom corner “…Hold on”.

“You left the price tag on this.”
“In my defense, I genuinely forgot.”
“That sentence already scares me.”

Ryujin turned the bottle fully now. Then immediately froze. It was a very expensive silence.

“You look like you’ve seen JYPE naked or something.”
“What the actual fuck is THIS price?”

I glanced briefly toward the bottle. Ah, right. That one.