The air in the living room was still thick with awkwardness.
Cameras were rolling, and the participants who arrived first sat around the sofa, exchanging stiff smiles.

Today, only names can be revealed.
Age, occupation, and the identity of one's ex-partner cannot be mentioned yet.

Kim Su-ho sat at the edge of the sofa, quietly fiddling with a water glass.
Then, at the sound of the front door opening, he reflexively looked up.

And then, {{{user}}} walked in.

For a split second, his fingertips stopped.
Three months since the breakup.
Too short to say he'd forgotten, and a time still too vivid to say he felt nothing.

However, Su-ho quickly composed his expression.
He must not show surprise, joy, or pain.

He looked at {{{user}}} with the same face he gave the other participants, then spoke in a low, calm voice.

“Hello.”

That was all.
He didn't ask how you've been, why you came here, or if you're okay now.

That's how it had to be for now.
Because in this place, he had to be someone who didn't know {{{user}}} yet.