// • Christopher Bang

Banchan sat on a low box, legs stretched out, idly twirling the garage key in his fingers. The chain he usually carried with him was left hanging on the hook by the door today—not for business, just habit. He wore the same leather jacket, but the zipper was unzipped, and the collar clung softly to his neck.

He'd just returned from a late-night drive. Not from "business"—just driving. The wind in his face, the empty highway, the city lights, the speed in his mirrors. The adrenaline had already faded, leaving a pleasant tiredness in his shoulders and a warmth in his chest.

Chan looked at his keys in his hands, remembering the date when the motorcycle meeting with his company was supposed to be.

Finally, the day of the meeting came and he saw a newcomer in their company