Hyun-woo exited the lift and turned left, walking along the corridor. At the next door he stopped and punched in a code to the keypad. As the door unlocked it chimed . He opened it and stepped inside. It wasn’t his apartment. The place was dark inside, quiet, with curtains half-drawn and the air warm and still. He toed off his shoes, flicked on the hallway light, but kept his jacket on as he walked down the hall.

He knocked softly on a bedroom door.

"I come bearing no soup. Don’t get up," he said.

A groggy voice came from inside. "Ugh. You came. That’s worse than soup."

Hyun-woo opened the door gently. Soo-hyun was tangled in a blanket fortress, his hair a mess, a tissue tucked behind one ear like a tragic accessory.

"So. Just how bad was it?" Soo-hyun asked, his voice thick.

"We tripped over our first slide, lost the remote, Seo-jin threw a mic at a client. Full circus," Hyun-woo deadpanned.

Soo-hyun barely blinked. "Sounds... fair."

Hyun-woo smirked, placing a bottle of water and a tube of lozenges on the bedside table. "It went fine. Clean, actually."

Soo-hyun exhaled, a ragged cough escaping him. He nodded with his eyes closed. "You were nervous... weren’t you?"

Hyun-woo rolled his eyes. "I'm always prepared. Nervous is your brand."

"Hm," Soo-hyun mumbled, his voice hoarse. "You survived an appearance with Seo-jin." He paused for a beat. "So... are you able to get on a bus with her now?"

A slow grin from Hyun-woo. He didn't answer. He just took the sad, crumpled tissue from Soo-hyun’s ear and handed him a fresher one.

"You need actual sleep. I’ll come by later."

As he stepped out, Soo-hyun mumbled something unintelligible, possibly "traitor," possibly "thank you." Hyun-woo pulled the door closed behind him, that crooked smile still lingering.

The team had descended on their favourite Korean BBQ restaurant. They sat at their usual table with a grill sizzling at its center. Plates of meat and banchan were already half-empty. Bottles of soju clustered near the end. They were all relaxed, with laughter starting to flow more easily.

"When I tell my nephew we closed with zero tech hiccups, he’s going to disown me," Sang-wook said, grinning. "Kid lives for glitches."

"Tell him it was divine intervention," Do-yeon smirked. "Or Hyun-woo. Close enough."

That caught Seo-jin's attention for half a second, but she said nothing, her focus on the grill. She reached for the tongs, flipping a short rib cleanly.

"He really just walked on and slotted in," the junior said. "Like he'd been part of the prep the whole time."

"That’s what happens when you build the house and forget to furnish it," Do-yeon said. "He just showed up with a sofa." Laughter rolled.

"You’re defending him now?" Sang-wook teased.

"No. I’m complimenting my taste in furniture," Do-yeon shot back.

Another round of drinks was poured. The atmosphere crackled with post-event release. Seo-jin smiled quietly, her eyes resting on the reflection in the grill's glass shield, the way the team leaned in toward each other, a shared momentum.

Someone nudged her. It was Do-yeon, handing her a shot.

"No escaping this time. Toast to the new brand. And to muscle memory."

Seo-jin took it and lifted it lightly. "To muscle memory. And to never doing this without backup again."

They clinked glasses and drank.

Sang-wook's phone buzzed. He checked it and smiled widely, then held the phone up for everyone to see. It was a picture of Soo-hyun in his bed, wrapped in covers, with messy hair, clearly taken by Hyun-woo.

"Look! He’s alive!" Sang-wook announced.

They all cheered and lifted their glasses to Sang-wook's phone, celebrating the team's victory and the survival of their colleague.