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Woojin turned to look at me speculatively, then shrugged a moment later.

Ace sat down on the floor between me and Woojin, sprawling irreverently and bumping into Woojin, who pushed him off and into me. I laughed and budged over so we all had enough room. Ace handed me a soda.

“Are you a delivery service now, Seokmin-ah?” Woojin grumbled.

Ace winked and pulled a blue packet out of his pocket. “I got you Red Vines, hyung.”

Woojin rolled his eyes, but snatched the sweets, his lips twitching just a little.

The déjà vu kept piling on the longer I was in the city. It was weird. I hadn’t lived here for long – less than a year – but it was so fundamental to the direction my life took, that in my mind it felt more substantial.

I stared up at the unimpressive, totally unremarkable building with its little patch of greenery outside and counted the windows, smiling faintly.

I let myself in. I still knew the code. The hallway still vaguely smelt like wet dog, despite the only resident dog having passed away more than a year ago. I walked upstairs. Approaching the door to the apartment, I put my hand into my pocket for the key I still had. Becka had insisted I keep a copy, even when I’d left for Korea, but no sooner had the key touched the lock, the door swung open.

I opened my mouth in greeting, only to recoil. “Whoa. What the fuck happened to you?”

Becka looked wild. Dragged through a bush backwards whilst applying mascara kind of wild.

“I quit!” she blurted out and then giggled.

“Come again?”

“I quit!” She grinned, but it bore more resemblance to a grimace than anything related to mirth.

“O-okay, let’s just, um. Yeah. Let’s go inside, shall we?”

I moved forward and took hold of her elbow, gently guiding her back into the apartment and kicking the door shut. She allowed me to lead her over to the sofa and together we sat down, but immediately she sprang to her feet.

“Wine!” she declared.

“Becka, it’s one in the afternoon.”

“Mimosas, then.”

I jumped up, intercepting her as she rounded the kitchen island.

“Becka! Becka, no, we are not drinking in the middle of the day. Sit down, let me make you a nice herbal tea, yeah?”

She mumbled something I couldn’t make out, but I deposited her back on the sofa while I quickly moved around the kitchenette, opening cupboards and putting the kettle on. I was relieved she still had one, after I’d refused to use the microwave to heat water, like some kind of heathen.

She was right where I’d left her when I put the steaming cup on the coffee table.

“When you’re ready,” I said gently, putting my hand on her back.

I expected her to take a few minutes, maybe drink her tea first, but it was like she gave herself permission to let it out the moment I sat down.

“I can’t believe I fucking quit,” she said in a daze, slumping forward and putting her head in her hands.

“Becka, what happened?”

“I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.” Her voice was muffled in her hands. “The bullshit, the constant overtime. They never rehired half the team after the pandemic, I told you that, right?” She raised her head, looking at me. Her eyes were red, but her cheeks were dry. She looked lost, not upset.

I nodded. “Yes, you told me.”

“Yeah. Well. I kept putting up with it. Doing three people’s jobs. I didn’t mind at first, once they promoted me, but they never filled my old position either. I got a raise but I was doing three times the work!”

I nodded sympathetically. Frankly, I was surprised she’d put up with it for so long.