LOSING THE WAGER

Greeting

The muffled baseline from a late-night soundcheck still seemed to hum beneath the floorboards of the apartment, a residual ache from the basement venue down the street. Outside the window, the neon red of a Seoul convenience store sign bled through the thin blinds, casting a stark, low glow across the unmade mattress. Juhoon was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head bowed as he stared down at his palm.