*Every situation is unreal*

"Bored as hell..."

The antique shop was cozy, with just enough space for about ten people. Whether the items were precious or ordinary, each one carried a special meaning—especially in this era, this bustling, chaotic time when people get swept into work like a whirlpool, corruption is everywhere, and money and fame are things everyone is willing to pay any price to obtain.

Fortunately, that dystopian scene would only appear in a few more years; it wasn't here yet.

Almost all the displayed items dated from before that time—vintage in style, yet never outdated. Everyone felt nostalgia in one way or another. The shop sat on the western side of the main avenue; just one step further and you'd feel as though you were standing between two entirely separate worlds.

There were still people who could feel those values, so the shop did quite decent business—especially since the prices weren't ripped off the way others did.

I leaned back in the chair until it tilted dangerously, feet propped up on the table, letting out a long sigh. Tch, I was supposed to go out with the guys today, but my so-called older brother (of course not a biological one) asked me to watch the shop, so here I was. Ever since I ran out of ideas to develop this directing career, life just felt... bland. And with the way things are run these days, I felt like I still hadn't grasped anything that truly hits the human psyche. Like... tch, I don't even know!

A figure stepped out from the storage area, walked toward the door with the "Open" sign, then turned back, smiled, and raised an eyebrow:

"I asked you to watch the place, you're getting paid for it, so why the hell are you sitting there looking so dead, Hải Anh?"
"I know... but this isn't exactly what I want to do. Still—if you're generous enough to pay me, then take your time, bro."

Both of us gave a small laugh. Long Nhật shrugged, opened the door, and disappeared from the shop.

I sighed once more, then pulled out my phone, looking for something to kill the boredom.

"At this rate I might as well go hang out with some girls."

The words had barely left my mouth when the door opened. I immediately dropped my feet down so no one could judge me. Normally Nhật would greet customers with extreme politeness and easy charm; I didn't have that kind of enthusiasm, but at the very least I still had to keep face for my brother and for the shop.

"Hello, welcome in."

A young couple walked in—handsome guy, beautiful girl. Just looking at them I could guess they were each other's first love: the way they linked arms, the way their eyes met, those little gestures—I was no stranger to them.

I didn't want to disturb them, so I didn't stand up or follow closely behind every step they took while browsing. My eyes tracked them quietly; the moment I saw something catch their interest, I'd get up and introduce it.

They understood my intention and didn't call me over. Both of them seemed genuinely delighted by the old objects; their eyes sparkled with fascination every time they touched or looked at something. They wandered their gaze around the shop until the girl suddenly gripped her boyfriend's arm tightly and pointed toward a section labeled "Photoshoots themed 'That Day'".

"Shop owner!"
"Yes?"
"What is this?"

I lifted my eyes to see what she was pointing at, then immediately understood. That corner was the one that drew the most questions—the name alone was enough to spark curiosity. I left my seat, walked over to them, observed for a moment before answering.

"'Photoshoots themed "That Day"' features sample photos from previous customers. The main tone is black and white, though color is also possible. Customers choose their own outfits and location. They can express themselves in any kind of clothing, and pick any place that both of them feel holds the most beautiful memories. But what's most special is that after the photos are developed, the quality won't be sharp in every detail—instead they'll be slightly blurred, yet the objects inside are still recognizable. Just like photos from decades ago. The name is meant to remind the two of you when you look back at the picture: 'That Day'—how happy we were on that day."

The girl's eyes lit up as she listened; her face glowed with excitement. This really was the perfect milestone memory for any relationship. She turned to her boyfriend and said:

"Babe! Let's do it! The price is super reasonable, and these days you can't even find cameras like this anymore—or if you do, they're nowhere near this cheap. Come on—"
"No no, babe, this costs money and time. If you want photos, I've got an iPhone. We take pictures all the time anyway, what's the problem? Why suddenly do this?"
"But opportunities like this don't come often... and your birthday is coming up soon. Why don't we just try it?"
"What era is this? Taking these blurry old-style photos? Even if we can choose color, they still look so tacky and outdated. What if my friends see them?"

I could clearly see the disappointment flood her eyes; the little sparks of excitement vanished. She looked down and quietly nodded. He nodded too, then scanned around the shop with clear disdain. It irritated me. I couldn't hold back and spoke:

"People who keep their eyes glued to the 'future' and completely forget the present will never understand anything about the past."

He turned around, face twisting in annoyance and surprise—he'd clearly never been spoken to like that before. He looked at me with contempt, but he was also weighing what I'd just said. The girl looked surprised too; she was waiting for me to say something more.

So I pulled over a chair, took the photo from the center of the display area, and placed it clearly on the table. The picture showed three people: a girl holding a phone taking the photo, her radiant smile under the sunset light; the boy smiling just as happily, eyes slightly squinted against the sun; and the other boy with wide, startled eyes—probably caught completely off guard at being photographed.

My eyes locked straight onto him. My finger pointed at the photo:

"Nothing ever gets exiled or fades with time. They only sink deeper and take root."