Suho Kim stood in front of the mirror, tugging at his collar for the fifth time.
"Relax," he muttered to his reflection. "It's just coffee. Just Hana. Just… the first date of your life."
Suho was twenty‑two, a quiet college student who had spent most of his life unnoticed. He wasn't unpopular, but he blended into the background—an ordinary face in crowded lecture halls, a dependable coworker at his part‑time job, the kind of person people borrowed notes from and quickly forgot. His parents lived far away, his nights were filled with instant noodles and scrolling through other people's lives online. He had never dated, never confessed, never held someone's hand. For him, Hana's invitation wasn't just coffee—it was proof that someone had finally seen him.
The reflection didn't look convinced. His hair was neat, his shirt freshly ironed, but his eyes betrayed the nervous energy buzzing inside him. He practiced a smile, then frowned.
"Not too wide. Don't look desperate. Just… normal. Normal is fine."
His phone buzzed. He snatched it up, hoping for Hana's name. It was only a reminder: Café at 7:00. He sighed.
"Yeah, I know. I'm going."
The city greeted him with damp air and the smell of rain. Neon signs flickered against the wet pavement. He rehearsed lines as he walked.
"Hi, Hana. You look great."
"No, too obvious. Maybe… 'Hey, glad you made it.' Casual. Friendly."
By the time he reached the café, his heart was pounding. The place glowed warmly, windows fogged from the heat inside. He pushed the door open, the bell chiming softly.
A barista smiled at him. "Table for one?"
Suho hesitated. "Uh… actually, I'm meeting someone. She should be here soon."
"Alright," the barista said, handing him a menu. "Sit anywhere you like."
He chose a table near the window, perfect for spotting Hana when she arrived. He ordered a latte, trying to steady his nerves.
Minutes passed. He checked his phone. No messages. He sipped his coffee, rehearsed another line.
"Long day? Yeah, me too. Glad we could meet."
The door opened. His head snapped up. Not Hana. A couple entered, laughing, shaking off umbrellas.
Another ten minutes. Still no Hana.
The barista passed by. "Waiting for someone?"
Suho forced a smile. "Yeah. She's… probably running late."
The barista nodded kindly. "Happens all the time. Don't worry."
But worry was all Suho could do. He checked his phone again. Still nothing. He typed a message, deleted it, typed another, deleted that too. He didn't want to seem clingy. He didn't want to seem pathetic.
Half an hour passed. The coffee cooled. The chair across from him remained empty.
A man at the next table glanced at him. "She's not coming, huh?"
Suho stiffened. "She… she might. She said she would."
The man shrugged. "If she wanted to, she'd be here."
Suho looked away, cheeks burning. He wanted to argue, but the silence in his phone betrayed him.
An hour passed. The café filled with chatter, couples leaning close, friends laughing. Suho sat alone, staring at the empty chair. Finally, he stood, left coins on the table, and walked out into the night.
The rain had begun, steady and cold. He hadn't brought an umbrella. Drops clung to his hair, slid down his cheeks, soaked through his shirt. He walked aimlessly, the city blurring into streaks of light and shadow.
"Why didn't you come?" he whispered to the rain. "Was I too boring? Too plain? Did you change your mind?"
His phone remained silent.
He passed a bookstore. A woman inside laughed with a friend. He passed a florist. A man bought roses, his face glowing with anticipation. Suho kept walking, each step heavier.
A couple brushed past him, huddled under a shared umbrella. The girl giggled, the boy whispered something that made her blush. Suho's chest tightened.
"Must be nice," he muttered. "To be wanted."
Thunder rumbled overhead. The air tasted metallic. He barely noticed. His thoughts were louder.
"You idiot. You thought she liked you. You thought tonight would change everything. And now you're just… walking alone in the rain."
He stopped under a flickering streetlight, staring at his reflection in a puddle. His hair plastered to his forehead, his shirt clinging to his skin, his eyes hollow. He laughed bitterly.
"Look at you. First date, huh? Some date."
The rain intensified, drumming against rooftops, splashing into gutters. A taxi slowed beside him, the driver leaning out. "Need a ride?"
Suho shook his head. "No. I'm fine."
The driver frowned. "Not in this storm, kid. You'll catch your death."
Suho forced a smile. "Already did." He walked on, leaving the driver puzzled.
Lightning split the sky.
It struck without warning, a blinding vein of white that tore through the clouds and slammed into him. Pain exploded, sharp and immediate, his body convulsing as if the world itself had rejected him. He fell, the rain turning into needles against his skin, the city dissolving into a tunnel of light.
For a moment, there was nothing. No sound, no sensation, only the vast emptiness of being unmade.
Then, slowly, the light receded.
Suho opened his eyes.
And saw God.