After only being in Busan for one night, his friends believed that he was fully on his way to recovery. Or rather, rediscovery. When Hoya questioned why his friends thought that way, Woohyun eagerly responded: "You don't smell like heavy alcohol and you didn't take a home!" 

Hoya shook his head and left the living room that his friends were resting in. As he walked away, Dongwoo was sure that he heard Hoya mutter, "I am so done." 

It was true though; Hoya made huge steps towards "rediscovery". But, they were forced steps. They served alcohol served that night, but nothing heavy enough to get Hoya wasted. His "friends" served regular dinner beer. How could Hoya go home wasted by only an eighth of a bottle of Soju? And how could Hoya take a to his mother's home?! Plus, every attractive woman there was taken! 

Hoya collapsed onto the small bed in his childhood bedroom and sighed. "I am tired of Busan," he mumbled. Hoya closed his eyes and dreamed of women, heavy alcohol, and clubs. He couldn't wait to leave, but when would that be? How long were his friends planning on keeping him captive? Why didn't he just leave now? 

Hoya sat up and smirked, "I should leave."

Hoya jumped out of bed and ran to the bag of clothes his friends had packed him. He stuffed the rest of his belongings into his bag. He made a phone call to a rental car company and began to plan his escape home. Once Hoya was sure he had all his belongings, he tucked his bag underneath his bed. With a smile on his face, Hoya left his room to join his friends and mother for one last night in Busan. 

To Hoya's surprise, only his mother was in the living room. She sat on the floor besides a large tub of mixed kimchi. Her arms were covered to her elbows and she continually mixed the spiced vegetables. "Hello my dear," she greeted as she continued her mixing. 

"Where is everyone?" Hoya asked as he looked around the room. 

Hoya's mother stopped and brushed a strand of falling hair from her face, "They are out on the town. I told them to have fun. They thought you were asleep since you had your lights off in your room." 

Hoya nodded and sat beside her. He watched as she played with the kimchi in her hands, skillfully adding more spices into the mixture. When she felt that the kimchi was done, Hoya's mother fed him a piece. Hoya couldn't help but smile. He was reliving his past. Hoya helped his mother by carrying the tub of finished kimchi into the kitchen. 

"It's so nice to have another hand in the kitchen," laughed Hoya's mother, "How long will I have these hands to help me?"

Hoya shrugged and ignored his mother's question. He knew that the answer was only a few more hours and as soon as his friends found out he left, they'd be right on his tail. "I'm not sure." 

She took a seat at the kitchen table and gestured for her son to follow her. "As much as I love having you here, I've been wondering why you've come. It's not Chuseok or my birthday or even your father's death funeral." She gently placed her arms on the kitchen table. Without asking the actual question, she asked her son why he came. 

Hoya awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and awkwardly answered, "I'm not sure either."

She chuckled, "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll find it here." 

"What makes you say that, mom?" Hoya asked. 

His mother reached out to hold Hoya's hands. She held them with her own and gently squeezed, "Because everyone's roots helps them in finding things. Whether it be your family ties or finding yourself, you can always find them by going back to your roots."

Hoya scoffed, "Really?"

"Your grandmother always said to pull at the roots. You'll learn," she sad as she smiled at her disbelieving son, "Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning son." Hoya's mother stood up and let go of her son's hands. She covered the kimchi in the kitchen and began to walk out of the room,

"Umma, I love you," Hoya called out before her mother left.

"I love you too, goodnight," she replied. 

Hoya watched his mother leave the kitchen and then walk down the hall. As she shut her door, Hoya released a long sigh. He suddenly felt pained to leave. He missed his mother more than ever. But as much as he loved his mother, it wasn't worth staying in this hellhole. He couldn't stand another second with the people who made me feel more uncomfortable than ever. 

"Goodbye Busan!" Hoya yelled as he drove down the freeway. 

He left his house thirty minutes ago and was now on his way back home. The clock read five to twelve and no cars were on the road. The emptiness of the freeway and the droning melody playing from the radio were the only things to accompany Hoya and it proved to be a bit... lonely. Hoya sighed. He wanted someone to talk to. Maybe if he formally said goodbye to his mother he wouldn't have felt so lonely. 

Just as the loneliness began to eat him up, a voice echoed through the car. "Hello my lovely listeners of 'Pulling at the Roots'. How are you doing this fine night?" asked a voice from the radio. 

Hoya scoffed at the voice. He remembered the voice from the night before and for an odd reason, resented its existence. But, Hoya couldn't get himself to change the station. His hand slightly turned the volume nob of the radio up.

"Tonight appears to be one of those lonely nights. Tonight, I can feel people are a bit lost. What are you doing on this lonely night? I hope you're not running away, because running away is never the solution," cooed the DJ, "The struggles we face in life aren't always easy to face, especially when it comes to finding out who your true self is. And I know that running away can feel like the easiest thing, but is it always the best thing to do? Ask yourself that while I play you this song..." 

"This DJ is attacking me,” spat Hoya. He roughly shut the radio off and pressed his foot harder on the car’s pedal. Hoya couldn’t believe what he heard from the DJ. She attacked him and hurt his pride, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know that her words sank into Hoya’s mind and actually made his conscience run.

“Is it always the best thing to do?” “I hope you’re not running away.” “Ask yourself that.”

Was Hoya really running away? Hoya didn’t run away! He made his leave from a place where felt uncomfortable. That isn’t running away. Right?

Hoya thought about this. He chuckled at himself and his own confusion, “That DJ really has a way with her words.” With a sigh, Hoya looked over his shoulder and changed lanes. His car slowly came to a stop and took the first exit off of the freeway.