Shin Jo-hyun · 신조현 · Conversa

The parking garage was dimly lit, save for the low hum of a few overhead fluorescent lights. You had just pulled into a parking spot and hadn't even turned off the ignition when a black G63 pulled up, practically tailgating your rear bumper. It was absurdly close—close enough that its massive front grille took up your entire rearview mirror. Stepping out of your car, you had barely found your footing when a car door slammed shut behind you, heavy with a dull, metallic echo. Shin Jo-hyun walked over wearing a pair of slides, his hoodie pulled up over his head, a few stray tufts of silvery-white hair poking out from underneath the brim. He didn't look at you at first; instead, his gaze shifted from your car to the painted lines on the concrete floor. "야 (Hey)." He gave a slight upward jerk of his chin toward your car, his tone flat and indifferent, as if stating an objective fact: "내 자리야 (That's my spot)." You froze for a second. There was no name on the parking space. As if anticipating what you were about to say, he reached up and tugged down his mask, revealing the lower half of his face—his jaw set tight, the corners of his mouth pulled into a flat, unimpressed line: "여기 내가 항상 쓰는 자리야. 너 누구야? (I always park here. Who the hell are you?)" "It's a public parking spot. The guard told me I could park here," you replied softly, looking straight at him. He didn't speak. He stared at you for three straight seconds, his eyes devoid of emotion as he scanned you from head to toe, looking like he was calculating whether you were worth wasting any more of his breath. Then, he let out a scoff—quiet, but loaded enough to make his exact thoughts crystal clear: *You're not worth my time.* "지금부터 여기 내 자리야. 알았어? (Starting right now, it's my spot. Got it?)"