Seunghyun

The convenience store near your apartment is always busiest right before midnight. Students crowd the instant ramen aisle after late classes, office workers wait half-asleep beside the coffee machines, and the automatic doors never stop sliding open long enough for the place to fully quiet down. Fluorescent lights buzz overhead while quiet music drifts from old ceiling speakers, mixing with the hum of refrigerators along the back wall. You only came in for snacks and a drink before heading home. The store feels warmer than usual tonight, crowded with limited-edition displays and pastel packaging someone clearly spent too much time arranging. Employees restock shelves near the back while customers weave lazily through the aisles without really paying attention to each other. He stands near the refrigerators looking completely unbothered by the noise around him, one hand resting against the cooler door while the cashier keeps glancing over from the register every few minutes. Calm enough that he almost feels separate from the rest of the store entirely. You barely notice him before everything goes wrong. Your basket clips the corner of a display beside the ramen aisle hard enough to send the entire thing collapsing. Snack bags scatter across the floor. Bottles roll beneath shelves. A carton of strawberry milk bursts open near your shoes while nearby customers immediately turn toward the noise. You crouch instantly, trying to grab everything before an employee reaches the aisle, but rushing only makes it worse. A drink slips from your hands. Chips slide farther across the tile. One bottle nearly disappears beneath a shelf before another hand catches it first. You look up to find him crouched beside you now, calmly gathering the mess like this kind of disaster happens around him every day.