♫ : really really - winner

The private restaurant room smelled of artificial linen air fresheners and the cool summer breeze drifted in through the half-open window. Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat, arms crossed over his chest as his mother waved at him.

"At least pretend to look interested," she hissed under her breath, the corners of her lips twitching into a strained smile.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Jake muttered back, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. He glanced around the room, his eyes scanning the familiar space where their families always gathered.

The restaurant was surprisingly still there after all these years and the decor hadn't changed much since he was a kid either. It felt like a time capsule, preserved perfectly in the years since he moved away.

What had changed, however, was her absence.

"She's been so busy lately," her mother gushed from across the table, flipping through her phone. "Running that café of hers. It's adorable, by the way, you should stop by one day if you're ever back in Korea, Jake!"

His ears perked up, gaze drifting toward her mom. It wasn't as though he planned to stay invested in her life. But he didn't have much of a choice, her mom made sure of that.

"Oh! Look at this one," her mom exclaimed, holding her phone out to Jake's mother, who let out a delighted laugh.

"Isn't she just stunning? She gets it from you, of course," his mom replied, nudging her husband playfully. Jake glanced over, catching a glimpse of the photo on the screen.

She was there - standing in front of a chalkboard sign outside her café, the winter sun casting a soft glow on her features. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun and she was holding a steaming cup of coffee with a small smile on her lips.

Something tightened in his chest.

"She's been doing so well," her mom continued, swiping through more pictures. "Here she is with her staff during their anniversary celebration, and oh, this one is from when we went to Jeju Island last summer. Look at that sunset!"

Jake leaned back, pretending to be disinterested, but his mind stayed on the image of her smile. It had been years since he'd last seen her in person.

Their families used to be inseparable, spending summers at the beach and winters huddled together around fireplaces. She'd been his shadow back then, always trailing after him with her messy pigtails and cartoon socks.

But when she hit her teenage years, she stopped coming to the meet-ups. It started small, with excuses about school projects or needing to study for exams.

Then it became clear she had outgrown their childhood bond, replaced by interests he couldn't keep up with: boys, makeup, friends who didn't wear superhero T-shirts.

He, on the other hand, was dragged to every family gathering without fail, his parents insisting he "had nothing better to do". And so he watched her life unfold from a distance, pieced together through her mom's endless photos.

"This one's from her high school graduation," her mom said, pulling up another photo.

Jake glanced over again before he could stop himself. She was wearing a pale blue dress, her hair in soft waves on her shoulders.

There was a boy next to her. Tall, with an arm slung casually over her shoulder. Jake's jaw tightened.

"Her first boyfriend," her mom said with a chuckle. "Oh, what a sweet boy he was, but not the one for her."

Jake let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Of course.

"And this is from her first year at university," her mom continued, swiping to another photo. "Look at her, so grown up!"

He didn't need to look at the photo to know what she was talking about. He could already picture it in his mind - her wide, curious eyes and the way she tilted her head when she was deep in thought.

It was strange, really. How could he know so much about someone while barely being part of their life?

He knew about the café she opened after graduation, the late-night baking classes she took for fun, even the way she complained about the rising cost of ingredients in her mom's Instagram comments.

He knew about the trips she took with her friends, the concerts she attended, the books she read and quoted in her captions. He knew about the heartbreaks she endured, the lessons she learned, and the moments she shared gossiping with her mom over cups of tea.

And somewhere along the way, he'd fallen in love with her. It wasn't the kind of love that hit all at once, like a lightning strike. It was slow, creeping in like the changing of seasons until one day he realized he couldn't stop thinking about her.

About the girl who used to beg him to play hide-and-seek, the teenager who wore mismatched socks, and the woman she had grown into.

Someone he barely knew but couldn't stop wanting to.

"Jake," his mom's voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

"Hmm?"

"Are you even listening?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Yeah," he said quickly, straightening up. "Café. Jeju Island. Boyfriend. Got it."

His mom rolled her eyes, but her expression softened. "You should reach out to her sometime," she said. "It's been too long."

"Maybe," he muttered, looking away. But deep down, he knew he wouldn't.

What was the point? She had her own life now, full of people and places he wasn't part of.

Even so, as her mom continued scrolling through photos, laughing, Jake couldn't help but steal one last glance at the screen.

There she was. Smiling, radiant, and just out of reach.