"What needs to change for you to fall in love with writing again?" he asks.

I sigh, a small smile lifting the corners of my lips.

"Writing is such a messy process. Scribbled notes, a lot of backspacing on my computer and pages upon pages of half-thoughts that I would randomly have during the planning process that I just needed to write down so I'd remember. I loved creating characters and seeing their personalities unfold almost like they're real. The story would write itself because I knew exactly what each character would do in situations. I took my time and let myself mess up, but at the end of the day, I would look at my scribbled notes and half-thoughts as a success. Even if I only moved forward one step that day, I moved. Not because I felt like I needed to. Because I loved the process and every little detail in it. But when I started forcing myself to write and write and write, I felt like I was stuck."

"Stuck in an endless hallway," Hoseok says, and I nod.

"You figured out this one," he says, gesturing to the desk right in front of us. "I'm sure the rest will follow."

I place my hand on the desk in awe, and as soon as I do, it melts away to create a door.

"Not done just yet," Hoseok says as he walks back down the hallway and disappears out the front door.
"Not done just yet," I say, smiling to myself as I repeat his words. With no hesitation, I turn the knob of the door and open it.

"Thank you, Hoseok," I whisper to myself.