Gwak Seon-woo and Seo Eun-jae stepped into the movie theater. Maybe it was a particularly busy time, but the place was packed wall to wall with people. Strangely enough, most of them were couples. Feeling unnecessarily self-conscious, Seon-woo followed behind Eun-jae, glancing around nervously.
Guided by Seo Eun-jae’s hand, they made their way deeper inside, and the scent of popcorn grew stronger with every step. Seon-woo had always preferred caramel popcorn, but he didn’t expect to be able to eat any this time—thanks to the system.
While scanning the inside of the theater, a memory suddenly surfaced in Seon-woo’s mind—one he had long forgotten. It wasn’t exactly a fond memory, so calling it “nostalgia” didn’t quite fit.
Back in college, a movie he’d really wanted to see had finally come out, and on a rare whim, he went to see it alone. It wasn’t a particularly famous film, and the theater was a tiny one in a quiet neighborhood with little foot traffic. On top of that, it was a late-night showing. He had only managed to squeeze it in after finishing up an assignment, so it was the only time that worked.
Perhaps because of that, the theater was practically empty. There were only two other people in the auditorium besides him—a couple.
The couple arrived well after the movie had already started and sat two or three rows behind him. And just when Seon-woo was getting completely immersed in the film, he began to hear faint whispers coming from behind.
“No, we’re in a theater…”
“So what? There’s barely anyone here. Just trust me, Oppa.”
“Still……”
“Nobody’s gonna hear us over the movie.”
“R-Really?”
Oh, it could be heard very clearly.
If they thought the film’s audio would cover their voices, they were sorely mistaken. The actors on screen had fallen completely silent, exchanging nothing but intense stares. But the couple behind him? They seemed to take that as a green light and started kissing. From the sound of it, they were far more passionate than the movie’s leads. Forget melodrama—these two were putting on a full-blown torrid romance.
Seon-woo turned around in irritation, but the couple either didn’t notice or simply didn’t care. They carried on as if he didn’t exist. And eventually…
…the once-pristine soul of college student Gwak Seon-woo was forever tainted.
He couldn’t even remember what the movie had been about. The whole experience had been so scarring that he’d shoved the memory deep into the back of his mind. He’d even forgotten why he’d started avoiding movie theaters in the first place.
As the memory flashed back all at once, Seon-woo’s face turned pale. Already on edge from not knowing what situation the system might throw at him, this was the last thing he needed to remember. At this point, Seon-woo was more terrified of becoming one of those obnoxious theater-goers than encountering them again.
Leaving Seon-woo’s growing anxiety behind, the two of them walked toward the ticket counter. Or rather, it was more accurate to say that Eun-jae dragged Seon-woo by the arm. He could’ve shaken him off if he really wanted to—but he didn’t. He obediently followed after Seo Eun-jae.
Standing in front of a wall display listing the currently showing films, Eun-jae stared at the titles with a grave expression.
“Adultery Is Fun… That’s a bit too much. What a blatantly immoral title.”
“Yeah, seriously.”
“Should we just go with the one that seems the least risqué?”
Seon-woo had no idea how to respond, so he simply stayed quiet. Eun-jae chuckled awkwardly and continued on his own.
“Then how about Burning Passion? Out of all of them, that one sounds… the most wholesome. Should we go with that?”
Seon-woo, unable to even mask his conflicted feelings, replied, “Sure… I guess.” Overhearing their conversation, the ticket clerk asked kindly,
“Burning Passion—two tickets?”
Just as Eun-jae hesitated, about to answer, an unfamiliar voice suddenly cut in between them.
“That one’s boring. Total third-rate melodrama—not worth the money. You’re better off just napping in a capsule café or something.”
“Oh, really? Thanks for the tip… Huh?”
Eun-jae responded casually at first, then spun around in shock. Seon-woo did the same.
Eun-jae looked like he’d just seen a ghost. And in a way, he had—because standing there once again was none other than Gwak Seung-hyeon. Seon-woo’s face, too, twisted in disbelief, and a thought flashed across his stunned expression:
Is he some kind of Hong Gil-dong or what? Shows up in the east, then the west?!
It seemed even the system hadn’t anticipated this unexpected encounter. A choice prompt suddenly appeared in the air.
▶ “Why are you here again?”
▶ “Do I really have to see your face here too?”
▶ “What’s your deal? How long are you planning to stalk us?”
But before Seon-woo could choose anything, Eun-jae spoke first.
“Seriously, Team Leader—what is this? Are you stalking us? How the hell did you know we were here?”
He lowered his voice, glancing around nervously. Seung-hyeon opened his eyes wide in mock surprise and played it off with a casual smile. As always, Eun-jae’s words seemed to bounce right off him.
“Stalking? That’s a scary word. Let’s not keep the people behind us waiting—why don’t we get the tickets first?”
“We haven’t even picked a movie yet. How’re we supposed to buy tickets?”
Eun-jae replied in exasperation, but Seung-hyeon’s gaze slid toward the list of films. After pretending to deliberate for a moment, he spoke up with no hesitation.
“Most of the romances showing right now are total trash… Might as well go with this. Three tickets for Dino Buddies’ Great Adventure: The Movie, please.”
“What the hell?”
When Seung-hyeon suddenly addressed the clerk, Eun-jae forgot all formalities and practically jumped in protest. The staffer, amused by Seung-hyeon’s comment—or maybe just charmed by his disarming smile—cheerfully brought up the seat selection screen.
“There are still plenty of seats available. But just so you know, it’s a movie popular with kids, so it might be a little noisy.”
“That’s fine. Row H… seats 8, 9, and 10, please.”
Seon-woo and Eun-jae stared blankly as the ticketing process sped along without a hitch. It was happening so smoothly, it was like the clerk was completely in cahoots with Gwak Seung-hyeon.
“Do you have a membership card or any points to use?” the clerk asked.
“Nope, just go ahead and—”
“Hold on a second.”
“Yes, Assistant Manager Seo?”
Eun-jae suddenly cut in, breaking through their little world. Seung-hyeon turned his head as if nothing had happened. Thinking he might be about to insist on seeing Burning Passion no matter what, Seon-woo turned to Eun-jae with a nervous expression.
“I’ve got a telecom membership. Please apply it.”
“Ah… understood. Sorry, would you mind applying it to his instead?”
“No problem.”
The ticket clerk gave them a warm smile. With unshaken patience and a friendly face, he quickly finished processing the payment. Thanks to the telecom membership Seo Eun-jae offered, they got a ₩6,000 discount.
Seon-woo was so dumbfounded by the entire sequence of events that he couldn’t even think of anything to say anymore. Still smiling brightly, the employee handed over three movie tickets and a handful of coupons.
“Here are your three tickets, and these are combo discount coupons valid for today. You’ll get ₩2,000 off any combo, including the Dino Buddies’ Great Adventure special combo.”
“Thank you very much,” Seung-hyeon replied, accepting the tickets with a pleasant smile. The three of them finally stepped aside from the queue. Seo Eun-jae, who had kept silent to avoid disturbing others until they finished getting the tickets, now crossed his arms and began grilling Gwak Seung-hyeon.
“Well? Care to explain yourself now? How did you even know we were here?”
“I came because of the Executive Director. Don’t get the wrong idea—I wasn’t stalking you, Assistant Manager Seo.”
At the sudden mention of his own name, Seon-woo was visibly caught off guard. He hadn’t thought for a second that Seung-hyeon had come to protect Seo Eun-jae from him, but he definitely didn’t expect to be thrown into the mix so bluntly.
“What are you even talking about?”
Seon-woo’s tone was full of irritation, but Seung-hyeon just tilted his head like he was the confused one. He furrowed his brow slightly and responded.
“Director, maybe check the text messages you sent me?”
At that, Seon-woo quickly pulled out his phone. Twelve unread messages. Three missed calls. Somehow, it had been switched to silent mode, so he hadn’t heard a thing. He scrolled through the inbox, swiping through the flood of messages Seung-hyeon had sent—and what he saw was just a mess.
[Hey, by any ch—]
That was all he’d managed to send before hitting send by mistake. Because of that half-written message, Seung-hyeon had followed up with twelve increasingly frantic texts.
[What do you mean by that?!]
[Director?]
[Were you asking for help?]
[Is something wrong?]
[Where are you right now?]
“……”
Seon-woo shut his mouth and turned his head away from the screen. He felt like reading any more would be bad for his mental health. What the hell was even happening? He had assumed, thanks to the system’s meddling, that nothing had been sent at all. It never even crossed his mind that a message like that, which sounded like something you’d send right before being kidnapped, had actually gone through.
Wracked with guilt yet wearing a straight face, Seon-woo turned to Seung-hyeon.
“We need to talk. Seo Eun-jae, can you give us a moment?”
“……Alright.”
Though clearly displeased, Eun-jae stepped aside without protest. Seon-woo pulled Seung-hyeon off to the corner and immediately snapped at him—he had to explain that ridiculous message first and foremost.
“I sent that by mistake.”
“But you were trying to ask for help, weren’t you?”
The blunt question came without hesitation, and Seung-hyeon’s voice was calm. Seon-woo bit the inside of his lip and muttered again.
“Yeah, but… whatever. It was still a mistake.”
Seung-hyeon looked at him with a bored expression and nodded.
“I see…”
What was with that lukewarm reaction? Just as Seon-woo was about to say something more, feeling increasingly uneasy, Seung-hyeon beat him to it.
“You’re not seriously about to tell me to go back, are you?”
“No, I’m not… Ugh, never mind. Just answer this: how did you even find this place? Like Seo Eun-jae said—”
Seon-woo sighed, trying to shift the conversation, and Seung-hyeon jumped in as if he’d been waiting for the cue.
“Was there really a need to say it was because of Seo Eun-jae?”
Caught off guard by the unnecessary nitpicking, Seon-woo narrowed his eyes at him. Seung-hyeon just smiled, his expression unreadable.
“Stop fixating on nonsense and answer the damn question.”
Fortunately, Seung-hyeon didn’t push it any further. He replied with surprising ease,
“I tracked your location.”
Of course, that just left Seon-woo even more dumbfounded.
