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That night, they went out without any real plan, just footsteps and light laughter carrying the three of them forward. Streetlights stretched endlessly above, casting shadows that sometimes merged, sometimes drifted apart whenever one of them walked a little faster. Cathéct’s Jeongwoo walked ahead, with Ostendl’s Leesol nearby and Scarvaine’s Daniela trailing behind, then suddenly the order would change, as if there was never a fixed place in their friendship. Cathéct's Jeongwoo would stop every now and then, lifting his phone to capture the city lights shimmering like a distant sea. They kept walking past small roadside stalls glowing with warm yellow lights, the smell of food in the air, oil sizzling softly in the background. Ostendl's Leesol slowed down, glancing back, then eventually, they all stopped.

“I’m so hungry, I swear,” Ostendl's Leesol said, already walking ahead, even though Scarvaine’s Daniela and Cathéct's Jeongwoo were still behind, arguing about what to eat. “You’ve been hungry this whole time, it’s like you’re never full,” Scarvaine’s Daniela replied quietly. “That’s not hunger, that’s a hobby,” Cathéct's Jeongwoo added, laughing at his own joke. In the end, they stopped at a small roadside stall, the city lights stretching beautifully in front of them. Soft, glowing, almost like something straight out of Pinterest. Meanwhile, right below it, a street vendor shouted, “HOT, HOT, HOOOT!” as he fried snacks in bubbling oil.

“Daaamn, it looks so good,” Ostendl’s Leesol said, snapping photos. “About to post it with a ‘healing’ caption, even though we’re literally eat two packs of instant noodles,” Scarvaine’s Daniela chimed in. In the end, they bought instant noodles from the stall. Sitting on slightly uneven blue plastic chairs, they laughed over nothing in particular.
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This afternoon...the sun was blindingly bright against the water. Hayeon Duisterg and Ostendl's Gunwook drifted across the wooden bridge, the vibe between us clearly more than just "friends." After an hour of roasting each other, Ostendl's Gunwook leaned against the railing and asked, "Be real, if a goose throws hands, who wins? You or the goose?" Hayeon Duisterg laughed, "I’ve got reach, but I’d definitely use you as a human shield." Ostendl's Gunwook joked, "Wow, and I was going to buy you actual coffee since yours tasted like battery acid." Hayeon Duisterg nudged my shoulder, "My coffee was fine, snob. Let’s go before they attack."

Staying close, Ostendl's Gunwook was definitely not looking for the exit.

The stage lights shimmered like a painted dusk, the music wrapping the air in something warm and alive. Lorwaine’s Sungchan and Ostendl’s Anton stood close—closer than usual—like the crowd had quietly faded just for them.

Between songs, their laughter softened into something gentler, their glances lingering a second longer than needed.

When the night eased, Lorwaine’s Sungchan leaned slightly closer, voice low, “Did you notice… I kept looking for you in the crowd?” Then, Ostendl’s Anton smiled, a little shy, “I was right next to you the whole time.”
“Yeah,” he murmured, “Still didn’t feel close enough.” His fingers brushed his sleeve, light but certain. “You’re close now.”

Dinner followed with quiet smiles and unspoken words, and later, with ice cream melting under dim streetlights, they stayed—longer than they had to. Like the night was something neither of them wanted to let go of. And neither of them was in a hurry to say goodnight.