Your ex

Scene: Morning — Shared Apartment Living Room

The smell of breakfast is thick in the air — toast, eggs, something vaguely burnt. Tui's in the kitchen with earbuds in, humming to himself while flipping something in a pan with all the enthusiasm of someone who'd rather be anywhere else. Lego is scrolling through his phone on the couch, occasionally glancing up at the TV where a muted music video is playing. William paces between rooms, already dressed like they're going out, sipping iced coffee like it's his lifeline.

Nut comes last, fresh from the shower, hair still damp and sticking to his forehead. He spots Hong across the room — already dressed, shoes on, keys in hand.

"Hey," Nut says, unsure. He offers a small smile.

Hong returns it, polite but distant. "Morning."

Something's off. Nut feels it instantly. Not like last night. Not like they finally understood each other under the stars. This is Hong back in his shell, and Nut suddenly doesn't know where he stands again.

William catches on too. "Whoa. You dressed like you're late for something." He raises an eyebrow. "What, got a secret date we don't know about?"

Hong stiffens a little. His hand tightens around the keys. "No. Just a thing."

"A thing?" Lego says without looking up from his phone.

Hong shrugs. "Yeah. Meeting someone."

William's eyebrow lifts higher. "Like who?"

Nut looks at him now, really looking. There's a tightness in Hong's jaw, the way he won't meet anyone's eyes. He's lying — or not lying, exactly, but avoiding something.

Hong grabs his phone and slips it into his pocket. "I won't be long. You guys go without me."

"We planned this for days," William says, voice tinged with annoyance. "You can't disappear last minute without saying where you're going."

"I said it's a meeting," Hong replies. Calm, too calm. "It's not a big deal."

Nut steps forward slightly. "Is everything okay?"

Hong looks at him — just briefly — and then away. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Tui, from the kitchen, finally pulls out one earbud. "If he doesn't want to come, don't make it a drama. Let's just go without him."

William Scoffs. "Fine. Be mysterious. But if you show up on Twitter with a new boyfriend or some surprise solo project, I'm gonna be pissed."

Hong offers a tight smile. "Noted."

Lego, who has said almost nothing, watches all of this unfold with a strange kind of stillness. His eyes flick between Nut and Hong. He knows. Of course he knows. But he says nothing.

Just as Hong heads for the door, Nut follows him into the hallway. Quiet footsteps. The others remain inside, their voices muffled behind the half-closed door.

"Hey," Nut says again, softer this time. "Are you really okay?"

Hong turns, sighs, then answers without looking at him. "I just need to clear my head."

"Is it about last night?"

Hong hesitates. "No. It's not about you."

That answer should feel reassuring, but it doesn't.

Nut frowns. "So where are you going?"

A long pause.

Then Hong looks him in the eyes. "I'm going to see someone I used to date."

Nut's heart drops.

"Oh."

"I didn't want to lie. But I didn't want to explain it in front of everyone either."

Nut nods slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek. "Is it serious?"

"No," Hong says quickly. "No. It's not. I just... I need to understand something for myself."

Nut's voice is barely a whisper. "You're not going back to her, are you?"

"No." Hong's answer is firm this time. "I'm not going back. I just... need to see clearly. And I can't do that if I don't deal with everything in my past first."

Nut nods again, more out of reflex than belief. "Okay."

Hong reaches out — briefly touches Nut's arm. "I meant what I said last night. Don't forget that."

And then he's gone.

The door closes softly behind him.

Nut stands alone in the hallway, the echoes of his own doubts growing louder.

Scene: Late Morning — A Café Near the River

The café is chic and minimal, all glass windows and quiet music, filled with soft light that spills across polished floors. Outside, the river glints under the sun. Hong sits alone at a table, watching the water. It's early. His hands are fidgeting with his phone.

And then she arrives.

She enters like she owns the plac e— heels clicking, long coat swaying, sunglasses pushed casually into her dark, glossy hair. Her name is Nina.

Nina is beautiful in that sharp, cinematic way. The kind of beauty that doesn't invite closeness — it keeps you at a distance. Her features are sculpted, almost too perfect. Cool-toned makeup, smoky eyes, perfectly shaped lips with the faintest trace of red — like she's always half done with a photoshoot. She wears a white blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans, gold jewelry that catches the light when she moves, and a designer bag slung over her shoulder like a careless afterthought.

She sees Hong and smiles, but it's the kind of smile that has layers. One that can mean I miss you, I still want you, or I know exactly what I'm doing.

"Hong," she says, sitting down without waiting for him to rise.

"Nina," he answered.

He looks tired already.

There's a pause. She orders a latte without asking him anything, then turns her full attention back to him. Her gaze is steady, amused. It's almost like she's playing a game only she knows the rules.

"You're still as serious as ever," she says, head tilted. "But you look good."

Hong doesn't respond to the compliment. "Why did you ask to meet?"

She leans back, sighs, and folds her arms loosely. "Because I've been thinking. About us. About everything we didn't finish saying."

Hong exhales, quietly. "There's nothing left to say. We broke up for a reason."

"I know," she says. "But hear me out."

He waits.

"I'm not trying to get back together," she continued. "I just thought — one last day. You and me. No pressure, no pretending. We go out, like we used to. Talk, eat, maybe walk around. And at the end of the day, we say goodbye properly."

She sips her latte. "Closure."

Hong's brow furrows. "That's not how closure works."

Nina shrugs. "Maybe not. But maybe it'll help. For both of us."

He watches her, silent. He's not stupid — he knows Nina. She doesn't do things without a reason. And while she might say it's about closure, there's something else in her eyes. Challenge: Possession. Nostalgia dipped in control.

He remembers how they used to be. The intensity. The constant push and pull. The way she could twist every argument into his fault. The way he always felt a little smaller next to her.

And yet here she is, beautiful as ever, offering him a day — one last chance to feel something he thought he'd escaped.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he says quietly.

She smiles again, wider this time. "You came here. So maybe part of you wants to."

He doesn't answer that. Instead, he looks out the window again, as if the answer could be written in the shifting water.

A text buzzes on his phone. It's from Nut.

"Are you okay?"

He doesn't reply. Not yet.

Nina reaches over and touches his hand. Her nails are perfect. Her fingers are cold.

"One day," she says again. "That's all I'm asking."

And despite everything, Hong nods.

Because part of him still wants to understand why he stayed so long with her.

And part of him knows he needs to see this to the end — before he can truly start something new.

Nina’s fingers linger for a second longer than they need to. Hong pulls his hand back, gently, not abruptly. She notices, of course — she always notices. But she doesn’t comment. She only leans back again, folds her arms, and smiles like she already won something.

The silence between them is oddly familiar. Like an old coat — no longer warm, but still remembered.

He glances at his phone again. The screen is dark now, but Nut’s message is still there. “Are you okay?” Simple. Honest. Kind.

That’s what makes it ache.

He locks the screen.

Nina, watching, cocks her head slightly. “New boyfriend?”

Hong doesn’t react fast enough, and that’s enough of an answer.

“Cute,” she says, amused. “I always thought… well. You liked soft things. I was the exception.”

Hong looks at her. Really looks. “You were never an exception. You were just… loud.”

She raises an eyebrow, but he sees the flicker behind her composure. “Ouch.”

He finishes his coffee. It’s gone cold. “Let’s go, then,” he says, pushing back his chair. “One day.”

Nina’s smile returns, almost victorious. “I thought you'd never say it.”

As they step out of the café, the sunlight is too bright. Hong squints, adjusts his coat, and follows her toward the street.

But as he walks beside her, something shifts inside him.

He already knows this day isn’t about closure. Not really.

It’s about proof. That he’s outgrown her. That he doesn’t belong in her shadow anymore. That whatever she still thinks she holds — she doesn't.

He thinks of Nut’s voice. That soft, uncertain way Nut says his name when he's tired. The way Nut holds his hand like he's afraid Hong might disappear.

And suddenly, he wants the day to be over before it even begins.