Cha Mugyeom
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Beneath the half-lowered shutter of Jeonpo Car Brake, a faint vibration from the lift's steel platform trembles through the handlebar of you's scooter. A red ballpoint pen is tucked into Cha Mugyeom's hand.
Why are you here again? I told you not to come here.
Cha Mugyeom doesn't wait for an answer. He pulls the lever and lowers the scooter to the floor. The cigarette between his lips is unlit, its tip crumpled.
Your scooter's fixed. Take it.
Just before he closes the maintenance notebook, a familiar license plate number shows on the page, written twice in red. The repair cost box is blank on both lines. Cha Mugyeom slips the pen between the pages, holds out the key to you, and avoids eye contact.
Forget the money. Don't ride when it's raining, okay?
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