Five hours still remained before the movie started.

Seorin's room, however, had already surrendered to chaos.

Clothes were scattered across the bed—some half-folded, others slipping onto the floor. The closet door had been hanging open for who knew how long, revealing rows of clothes that seemed to change places every few minutes.

Her gaze swept across the closet again.

That sweater was too formal.

That one was too casual.

Her fingers paused on one hanger before moving on.

"Han Seorin... get a grip."

The muttered words were nearly swallowed by the hum of the fan.

"It's just a movie."

Yet her hand still hesitated, pulling out one outfit only to hang it back up again.

Eventually, she stopped on a white A-line skirt and a light gray knit sweater.

A choice that shouldn't have taken nearly this long.

Standing in front of the mirror, Seorin fell silent again.

A soft wash of orange shimmer warmed her features. And unlike every other day, her lips weren't wearing only lip balm.

Lipstick.

But noticeable enough to keep her standing in front of the mirror for a few seconds longer.

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly before she quickly looked away.

By reflex, her gaze drifted toward the neighboring window.

Kang Ara's window.

The curtains remained stubbornly shut.

Seorin's eyes lingered there for several seconds.

They should have been leaving from the same alley. Waiting at the same traffic light. Ara would complain about the line at the theater, then quietly finish someone else's popcorn before the movie was over.

But the curtains never moved.

***

The mall was crowded that afternoon.

Footsteps, store music, and overlapping conversations blended into a constant hum that filled the main floor.

Seorin stepped inside, scanning her surroundings.

"Seorin!"

Dongchul waved from near the escalator before making his way over.

"Where's Minji?" Seorin asked. Her eyes automatically searched behind him for another figure.

There wasn't one.

"This is how we date," Dongchul replied casually. "We'll meet her inside."

Seorin gave a small nod.

Entering separately.

Not drawing attention.

They headed toward the concession counter since they still had plenty of time before the screening.

Seorin ordered a drink and popcorn while trying to focus on the menu board in front of her. Beside her, Dongchul was busy choosing extra snacks for Minji.

Without realizing it, Seorin's gaze drifted back toward the entrance.

And there—

Minji had just entered the theater.

Alone.

Ara wasn't with her.

Seorin tapped lightly against the side of her drink cup.

Until—

"Sweet popcorn and soda."

The employee's voice startled her.

She quickly collected her order and followed Minji, who was already heading toward the auditorium.

The room was fairly dark.

Seorin slowed as she searched for her seat number. The faint glow from the screen helped a little.

"Over here."

Minji raised a hand.

Seorin sat down beside her.

"Kang Ara's going to be a little late," Minji whispered.

"A little."

Seorin's gaze fell to the empty seat beside her.

The lights suddenly went out.

The movie began.

Music filled the theater.

But the seat beside Seorin remained empty.

Minutes passed.

One scene gave way to another.

Blue light, then red, then white flickered across the faces around them.

The seat beside Seorin was still empty.

Every time the auditorium door opened, her head turned instinctively.

Light from outside spilled in for a moment before disappearing again.

Not Ara.

Her hand moved absently across the popcorn bucket that had barely been touched.

A few seats away, Dongchul and Minji seemed completely absorbed in their own world.

Their hands were intertwined atop the armrest. Their shoulders brushed occasionally whenever they laughed.

Meanwhile, the seat beside Seorin remained cold and empty well past the halfway point of the movie.

The dialogue continued on screen.

She wasn't really following it.

When the theater lights came back on, the seat beside her was still empty.

Seorin remained seated for several seconds, staring at the dark screen ahead.

"Seorin..."

Minji's voice pulled her back.

"We should go."

Seorin turned.

Only then did she realize the auditorium was almost completely empty.

"Why didn't Kang Ara come?"

The question made both Minji and Dongchul pause in the aisle.

Minji let out a quiet breath.

"She..."

The sentence lingered unfinished for a moment.

"She's still dealing with something."

The explanation felt a little too tidy.

"But we can still have fun," Minji added, trying to smile.

Seorin nodded slightly.

"Of course."

But her steps gradually fell behind theirs.

She still followed the date itinerary Minji and Dongchul had planned.

Arcade.

Ice skating.

Dinner.

The arcade lights flashed brightly across people's faces. Music from the game machines blended with laughter and electronic sound effects.

At the skating rink, Minji laughed while clinging to Dongchul's arm to keep herself from falling.

Seorin stood near the railing with both hands tucked into her coat pockets.

Her phone screen remained dark.

No messages.

Ara had her number, after all.

Not even a single text.

***

The night was much quieter by the time Seorin stood in front of her bedroom window.

Her gaze stayed fixed on the Kang family's house.

Dark.

No lights were on upstairs.

Her fingers held the curtain slightly open.

Then a taxi pulled up in front of the house.

Seorin went still.

The car door opened.

Kang Ara stepped out first.

The streetlights caught faintly on her dark hair and black jacket.

Ara didn't go inside immediately.

Instead, she stood beside the taxi and bent slightly toward the open window.

Speaking to someone inside.

The person wasn't visible. Just the shadow of a shoulder and an arm beyond the darkened glass.

But the conversation lasted long enough for Seorin's fingers to slowly loosen their grip on the curtain.

A quiet laugh slipped from Ara.

Then she lifted one hand briefly toward the open window before finally taking a step back.

The curtain in Seorin's hand drifted slowly closed.

When she turned away, her gaze fell on her room.

The clothes were still scattered across the bed exactly as she'd left them.

The gray sweater hung halfway off the edge of the mattress.

Her lipstick was still sitting open on the desk.

Seorin stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds before switching off the light.

And behind the tightly closed curtains, the sound of the taxi engine slowly faded into the distance.