Namhyuk, with a deep and poignant tone, questions Juhyuk's desire, "Juhyuk, why do you find solace in the embrace of those unfortunate memories? When the canvas of your recollections remains eerily bare, it signifies that the very fabric of nature resists resurrecting those haunting specters from the labyrinth of our shared past."
In response, Juhyuk, his voice echoing with a profound mix of sorrow and determination, passionately asserts, "Why deny the visceral essence of those memories? I am compelled, for I must intricately weave them into the very tapestry of my being-a mosaic adorned with the intricate threads of emotions and lessons that unequivocally define the intricate symphony of my existence."
Juhyuk says, "Hyung, I've talked to my doctor; she's a really good doctor. She gave me the number of a psychiatrist. She thinks they might be able to help me." Juhyuk, showing the psychiatrist's card, adds, "She said they could possibly assist me."
Namhyuk asks, "What's your doctor's name?" Juhyuk responds, "I don't know the full name, but the surname is Oh." Namhyuk says, "Well, forget it. What matters is you should go. Maybe you'll find some help there."
Juhyuk says, "Hyung, I should go now." Namhyuk comments, "Why do you both always seem in a hurry to go somewhere?"
Namhyuk, with a sense of urgency and concern, implores Juhyuk, "Hold on, I've placed an order for food, and when it arrives, let's sit together and eat. Take your time, but promise me you'll eat before you leave."
Juhyuk, silent and contemplative, remains seated as the anticipation builds. In due time, their meal arrives, and as they begin to eat, a heavy atmosphere surrounds Juhyuk.
Despite consuming his food, he takes painstakingly small bites, each one seemingly burdened with the weight of unspoken emotions, as if the act of swallowing itself is a monumental struggle, a journey from mouth to soul.
Namhyuk, observing the subdued demeanor of his friend, can't help but express concern. With genuine worry in his eyes, he inquires, "Why are you not indulging in your meal, Juhyuk?" Juhyuk, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken feelings, replies, "First, savor your meal, and then we can delve into the words you seek from me."
Namhyuk, swallowing a lump of emotions along with his food, persists, "Why do you resist nourishing yourself, my friend?" The air resonates with unspoken pain, a poignant symphony of emotions swirling around the shared dining experience, a silent plea for understanding in every chew, and an unspoken connection that transcends the physical act of eating.
Juhyuk said, "I don't feel like it. You insisted, so I sat down to eat." Namhyuk replied, "Forget it, I've eaten too." Juhyuk asked, "Have you eaten, and aren't you still hungry?" Namhyuk, looking at his empty plate, said, "Oh, never mind."
Namhyuk continued, "Whenever I'm happy, I automatically eat more." Juhyuk questioned, "Happy? Did something good happen?" Namhyuk responded, "Yes, what I've been wishing for, for years, seems to be coming true." Juhyuk asked, "What is it?" Namhyuk said, "Sorry, that's something inside me; I can't tell you. Hahaha!" Juhyuk replied, "As you wish."