✧ kitty;

wednesday rolls around faster than i expect, and by the time film 121 comes up on my schedule, i'm fully prepared. i spent the last two nights brainstorming ideas for our script, and i have at least five solid concepts ready to go.

i walk into the classroom with dae, juliana, and Q, feeling good—until i look up and make direct eye contact with min ho.

he's sitting with jin and yuri, completely relaxed, one arm draped over the back of his chair. when he sees me, he lifts something in his hand, tilting it slightly toward me.

a matcha latte.

he remembered.

before i can even react, juliana leans closer. "well, that's interesting."

Q hums. "a peace offering? or something more?"

"it's not something more," i mutter, but my eyes flicker to dae, who's noticeably quieter now.

his jaw is tight, but he forces a smile. "he bought you a matcha?"

i shrug. "yeah, it's his way of trying to amend things."

dae nods, but i can see it—the way his grip tightens around the strap of his bag, the way his expression doesn't quite match the casual tone he's trying to pull off. he doesn't like this. especially cause dae said he would buy me a matcha but never did.

i don't know what to say, so i don't say anything at all. instead, i make my way over to where min ho is sitting.

without a word, he holds out the matcha for me. i take it, glancing at the label.

matcha tea latte with oat milk, 4 pumps of white mocha, and vanilla sweet cream cold foam.

i frown. "white mocha?"

min ho smirks. "you'd be surprised."

i hesitate for half a second before taking a sip. the second it hits my tongue, my face instinctively lights up. it's sweet, but not too sweet. smooth, but still matcha-forward.

it's really good.

min ho watches me closely. "what do you think?"

i sigh, pretending to be reluctant. "i hate to admit it, but you have good taste."

he gestures to himself. "obviously."

before i can come up with a response, professor alex walks in, clapping his hands together. i take a sit next to min ho.

"alright, let's get started! today, you and your partner are going to start brainstorming script ideas. so get together with your partner and discuss!"

i sit up a little straighter, suddenly energized. finally.

i grab my notebook from my backpack and place it on my desk. i turn to min ho, ready to pitch my first idea. but he's already watching me, like he knows exactly how excited i am.

~

✧ min ho;
i lean back in my chair, glancing at kitty's notebook. the pages are filled—completely packed with ideas, scribbled notes in the margins, and highlights in every color imaginable.

before she can say anything, i grab her notebook and place it on my desk.

i raise a brow. "i see you thought this through." i pause, flipping through a couple of pages. "a lot."

she presses her lips together, almost like she's embarrassed. "yeah... writing is kind of my thing." she hesitates before adding, "or i guess, my family's thing. we write a lot."

i tilt my head. "family as in...?"

"my mom and laura jean, my sister, write a lot of letters," she simply says. she pauses before she continues, "or my mom used too."

i nod, letting that settle. i get that she doesn't wanna talk about it further so i change the subject, "lemme hear your favorite one."

she hesitates for a second, but then something shifts—her shyness fades, and suddenly, she lights up.

"okay," she starts, leaning forward. "so, imagine this: two people meet by chance. one's a struggling musician, the other's a struggling actress. they fall in love, but when their careers take off, they realize they can't have both—a life together and their dreams. they have to choose."

i nod slowly, intrigued. "so, romance but... bittersweet."

"exactly."

"sounds solid."

she grins. "but here's the thing. it's a musical."

i blink. "a musical?"

"i know it sounds corny," she rushes to say, "but not, like, over-the-top broadway. more... jazz-inspired. like, smoky piano bars, contemporary dance numbers—something intimate and raw."

i study her. i didn't expect that. i assumed she'd pitch something typical—some rom-com, maybe a coming-of-age story. but a musical?

it's not that i don't like music. i just don't talk about it.

i glance down at my fingers, drumming lightly against her notebook.

i've always had a secret love for composing. my dad never took it seriously, so i never brought it up. but my mom...

i think about the old piano in her house, how she used to sit with me for hours, guiding my hands over the keys. how, even when i got older and life got complicated, that was the one place where everything made sense.

i swallow, pushing the thought away.

"so?" kitty asks, watching me closely. "what do you think?"

i shrug, keeping my expression neutral. "i don't hate it."

she rolls her eyes. "wow, such high praise."

i smirk. "don't let it go to your head, covey." but then, softer, i add, "it's a good idea."

she blinks, like she wasn't expecting that. then, she smiles—just a little.

and for some reason, i don't mind that i was the one to make her do it.

—

the rest of class moves fast—faster than i expect. once we settle on the idea, kitty dives into brainstorming, and before i know it, we're throwing out character names, locations, backstories, and how the story will play out.

she's relentless. every time i think we've hit a dead end, she sparks a new idea. and i have to admit, it's kind of... fun.

i don't realize how deep we are into it until a voice interrupts us.

"hey, you know class ended like five minutes ago, right?"

dae's standing next to us, arms crossed, looking vaguely annoyed but mostly amused.

i blink, glancing around. sure enough, the classroom is almost empty.

kitty and i look at each other before awkwardly leaning away, like we both just realized how close we were sitting.

i clear my throat and quickly start packing up my things. "we'll talk later and brainstorm some more."

"uhh yeah," kitty responds, tucking her notebook into her bag.

i nod at dae in acknowledgment before walking off, needing to put some distance between myself and whatever just happened.

as soon as i step outside, i put in my airpods and scroll through my music.

jazz.

i press play, letting the familiar sound of soft piano and saxophones wash over me.

i don't tell people i like jazz. it's not exactly the kind of music most people expect from me. but there's something about it—the way it's unpredictable, how it flows without needing permission—that reminds me of composing. reminds me of sitting at the piano, experimenting with melodies, finding something new in the spaces between the notes.

it reminds me of my mom.

and now kitty.

ew. what?

i exhale, shoving my hands into my pockets.

i can't believe how easy it was to brainstorm with kitty. how natural it felt. i should be annoyed, but instead, i'm smiling to myself, replaying our conversation in my head.

she makes me more comfortable being myself already.

and that scares the hell out of me.

—