The day had flattened out.
Design reviews. Client feedback. Last-minute revisions on a banner no one would remember. Another pointless day tucked into a week that looked just like the last.
Now, the three of us stood in the fluorescent-lit hallway of the twelfth floor, waiting for the elevator to open like we were waiting to be released from captivity.
Yumi was laughing at her phone again, thumb sliding, screen flickering.
"Look at this," she snorted, eyes glued to a meme. "It's Minho in a cat filter, he looks illegally adorable. I'm dead."
Neither I nor Jiwoo responded. Jiwoo looked like she could strangle a filing cabinet.
"Don't talk to me," Jiwoo muttered, head tilted back against the wall, eyes closed. "If I hear one more K-pop name I'll start foaming at the mouth."
I was staring at my phone. Not for any notification. Just staring.
My wallpaper was a grayscale mountain, the kind that comes by default.
I'd been thinking of changing it for three weeks.
Still hadn't.
What would I even change it to?
Color?
The elevator dinged.
All three of us straightened, not out of excitement, just habit. The sound of freedom, of not being in this building anymore.
The doors slid open with a slow mechanical breath.
Four tall figures stood inside, masked, hooded, dressed like they were trying very hard not to be recognized, which only made them more obvious.
The one in the front gray hoodie, clear eyes, ridiculously symmetrical face made brief, awkward eye contact with us.
A small shuffle. A silent pause. Like both parties were pretending this wasn't strange.
Yumi, of course, didn't even look up. She was too busy watching a slow zoom-in of someone's face with animated glitter text that read "You're my serotonin."
Jiwoo walked in first with the grace of someone who had fully given up on the concept of caring. I followed. Then Yumi, still smiling at her screen.
The four men shifted slightly, polite, trying not to take up too much space. You could tell they were famous, not from how they acted, but from how carefully they acted.
I leaned against the side rail, holding my phone.
Still open on the mountain wallpaper.
Should I change it?
Maybe to a cloud.
Or a wave.
Or maybe just... leave it.
I put the phone away.
Didn't look at them. Didn't think to.
The silence in the elevator was the kind that hums around the edges of shared exhaustion. We were all just people trying to go home.
I stared at the floor numbers lighting up.
11.
12.
13.
No one spoke.
Not even Yumi, surprisingly.
Maybe even she understood that there were times when you just let silence be.
We reached the lobby. The doors opened.
The four men stepped out first swift, soft, like shadows rehearsed to move without sound.
I didn't watch them go.
My hand reached into my coat pocket for keys I hadn't taken out yet.
Yumi finally sighed. "You guys... that was NEONIX."
I blinked.
Jiwoo's response was a groan. "I'm hungry."
Yumi looked at me. "Minseo?"
I shrugged. "Okay."
That was it.
No fluster. No spark. No realization.
Just another quiet ride in the elevator, down another day in a life that never really changed.