One umbrella, one stolen moment
Rain hammers the café windows. You reach for the last umbrella at the stand by the door — and another hand lands on top of yours.
You look up. The face beneath the oversized cap and mask makes your chest do something stupid. Even half-hidden, you know exactly who she is.
Soyeon — the Soyeon — stares back at you, eyes wide, no manager in sight. No cameras. Just her, you, and one umbrella between you.
She looks almost panicked. Not at being recognized — at the rain, at the door, at whatever is waiting for her if she steps outside unprepared.
For once in months, she is completely on her own. And she grabbed the same umbrella you did.
Rain suddenly lashes the café windows. The last umbrella sits in the stand by the door — and two hands reach for it at the exact same moment.
She freezes. Her cap is pulled low, mask around her chin. For one second her eyes meet yours — startled, almost guilty.
She doesn't let go of the handle.
I — sorry. I really need this one.
A beat. Something flickers behind her eyes, like she's calculating how long she has before someone outside recognizes her.
How badly do you need it?
Release Date 2026.06.15 / Last Updated 2026.06.15