[Kei]
The car door shut with a dull thud behind him.
Kei leaned back against the leather seat, one arm draped lazily across his stomach as the city lights slipped past the tinted windows.
Rainwater streaked across the glass in thin silver lines, blurring the neon signs outside into smears of color.
The driver asked something quietly from the front.
Kei ignored him.
His mind was still in the café.
Still stuck on that stupid scene near the counter.
Run-Seo's face flashed across his thoughts again, and Kei nearly scoffed out loud.
That expression she made when he spoke to No-Ah.
Pathetic.
Like she'd swallowed glass and expected someone to pity her for bleeding.
He could still picture the way her mouth tightened, the way her eyes followed every little interaction like she was trying to dissect it, own it, control it.
Annoying.
Worse—transparent.
People like her always thought they were subtle.
Kei tilted his head back against the seat with a quiet exhale.
The car slowed at a red light.
His fingers tapped once against his knee before stopping abruptly.
No-Ah hadn't looked at him the way Run-Seo did.
That was the problem.
Or maybe the interesting part.
Most people changed around Kei eventually.
Some became desperate to impress him.
Others got nervous. Careful. Predictable.
No-Ah didn't.
Even after Kei cornered her with questions sharp enough to make anyone defensive.
No-Ah still looked at him with that same guarded expression, like she was trying to figure Kei out instead of the other way around.
Kei hated that.
And somehow wanted more of it.
Why?
He hadn't figured out an answer... for now.
His jaw tightened slightly.
The image of No-Ah standing behind the café counter drifted into his head again—dark sleeves rolled up, tired eyes half-hidden beneath messy hair, fingers wrapped around a ceramic cup still warm from the dishwasher.
She looked exhausted.
But steady.
Like someone holding herself together through pure stubbornness.
Kei let out a humorless laugh under his breath.
Dangerous combination.
The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror before quickly looking away again.
Kei stared out the window.
Why was he even thinking about this so much?
It should've ended as another meaningless conversation.
Another face.
Another person.
Instead, No-Ah stayed in his head like a song refusing to fade out.
Kei remembered the exact moment their eyes met earlier that night.
No hesitation.
No fake politeness.
Just that quiet, unreadable stare.
It irritated him more than it should have.
Because Kei was used to understanding people quickly.
No-Ah was different.
Every reaction felt restrained, like there were entire thoughts locked behind his expression that he refused to let anyone see.
And Kei—
Kei wanted to pry them open.
The realization made him click his tongue softly in annoyance.
Ridiculous.
Outside, the rain began falling harder, droplets rattling faintly against the roof of the car.
Kei closed his eyes for a second.
Then immediately saw No-Ah again.
Not Run-Seo.
Not the café.
No-Ah.
Her tired voice.
The slight tension in her shoulders.
The way she looked like she wanted to leave the conversation but stayed anyway.
Kei opened his eyes again with a sharp breath.
"…Troublesome," he muttered quietly.
But the word lacked any real irritation.
The car continued down the wet streets, headlights reflecting gold across the pavement while No-Ah's face remained stubbornly, frustratingly impossible to forget.
☆ ☆ ☆
Then—
His phone vibrated against the leather seat beside him.
Kei glanced at the screen briefly before answering.
"…What."
"Where are you right now?" his manager asked immediately.
Kei frowned slightly at the tone. "In the car."
"Good. Don't go home yet."
A pause.
"The CEO wants you at the office."
Kei's eyes narrowed faintly. "Right now?"
"Yes. Right now."
The line went quiet for half a second before the manager added carefully,
"And Kei… don't be late."
The call ended.
Kei stared at the dark screen for a moment before lowering the phone slowly into his lap.
The driver looked at him through the rearview mirror.
"Should I change directions, sir?"
Kei looked back out at the rain-streaked window.
"…Yeah," he said quietly.
"Take me to NOCTIS."
☆ ☆ ☆
The glass doors of NOCTIS Entertainment slid open with a soft mechanical hiss.
Warm light spilled out into the marble lobby, too clean, too controlled—like the building itself didn't allow hesitation to exist inside it.
Kei stepped in without slowing.
The air shifted immediately. Quieter. Colder in a different way than the rain outside.
A receptionist stood up too quickly behind the desk.
Another staff member near the elevators lowered their gaze the moment they recognized him.
No one said his name out loud.
They didn't need to.
Kei didn't stop walking.
His footsteps echoed faintly across the polished floor as he passed the company's logo embedded in the marble—NOCTIS, sharp and metallic under the light.
An assistant was already waiting near the private elevator.
"Mr. Jeong," she said carefully, bowing just enough. "This way, please."
He followed without a word.
The elevator doors closed with a quiet chime.
For a moment, there was only reflection.
Kei stared at himself in the mirrored walls—slightly damp hair, dark coat, expression unreadable.
The city rain still clung to him like it hadn't decided whether to let go yet.
Floor numbers rose silently.
10… 15… 20…
The assistant stood perfectly still beside him, hands folded, eyes forward.
Kei didn't look at her.
Neither of them spoke.
At the top floor, the elevator slowed.
A soft ding.
The doors opened.
And the atmosphere changed again.
This time, it wasn't quiet because of space.
It was quiet because of expectation.
The CEO's floor of NOCTIS was always like that.
Controlled silence.
Intentional distance.
A place where nothing unnecessary was allowed to exist.
At the far end of the corridor, a single office door stood slightly open.
Light spilled out from inside.
"You're here. "
Then, without looking up from the document in front of her:
"Tell me what you've been doing, Kei. "
☆ ☆ ☆