Even from the inside of his safe, humble wooden sanctuary, Sunggyu could still hear the faint rhythmic thudding coming from the next door neighbor’s (probably farmer Joo) karaoke machine. Although, farmer Joo lived about 4 kilometers away - so it was either he had really good hearing or his mind were playing tricks on him, haunting him with his own nightmare. 

Sunggyu suddenly heard thousands of people, strangers to him, all screaming and chanting his name - but the white laser beam from the ceiling pierced his eyes. He could see no one, he could hear nothing. The bass kept on thudding a familiar tune that he was so used to - the same tune that he ended up spending years escaping from. The shrieks from the crowd got louder and louder, and he wanted to go backstage, to run away and abandon this - instead he found his body moving to the beat of the synth. He felt 6 other bodies, moving alongside with him on the slippery stage. All of them exhausted, all of them imprisoned and yet, no one ever tried to escape. 

“The tangerines are starting to grow, we should be able to harvest them in two weeks,” 

“Good,” Sunggyu inaudibly thanked Howon, his best friend who also happened to be his innkeeper, who came at the right time, pulling Sunggyu away from his head. He was back here and he wanted to keep his mind grounded in the present, but old habits die hard.  

“Are you okay? You’re sweating,” Howon eyed Sunggyu’s damp forehead as he took off his farming boots and cap. The hem of his dark blue overalls were splattered in mud, and Sunggyu gave him a disapproving look for not taking it off outside. 

Sunggyu shifted in his seat and ran his fingers across his hair, “I’m okay,” he replied unconvincingly and he knew Howon didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. Sunggyu knew Howon was going to drop it - which was one of the many reasons why Howon had always been one of his favorite. He never pushed too hard. 

“Don’t forget, you’re hosting dinner tomorrow,” Howon grinned, “You should buy the ingredients early in the morning,” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” 

Howon disappeared into his room after saying good night to Sunggyu. Sunggyu wasn’t a great cook, nor was he a fan of making meals, but this was better. This was the freedom he had longed when he was suffocated by his fame years ago. He told himself that he was no longer an idol in the busy Seoul. He was a man running a modest inn in the middle of his tangerine farm in the serene Jeju - and he wanted to think that he was happy. 

~

“Equanimity.” 

Amongst the audience who had their eyes glued on the makeshift stage, was a young high school teacher with a distinguished degree that she had never gotten to use, Park Minna. Everyone was silent with anticipation, waiting for the petite high schooler behind the stand microphone to say something. No one was as excited as Minna though - she was sure Eunhae could get this one right. They had trained for months. She should get this right. 

“Can I have the origin of the word, please?” Eunhae asked on the mic. 

“Latin.” 

“Equanimity,” Minna could hear her student took a deep breath, before she confidently started spelling, “E - Q - U - A - N - I - M - I - T - Y. Equanimity.” 

A moment of pin drop silence before the judge declared, “That is correct.” 

Minna let out a sigh of relief and joined the crowd clap their hands to congratulate Eunhae, who had just secured her spot in the regional spelling bee competition. Eunhae grinned widely and bowed to the crowd. She spotted her coach and grinned even wider, if that’s even possible. Minna laughed and mouthed, “Great job.” 

~

“So, how does it feel?” 

Minna let out a small chuckle while still keeping her eyes on her right hand that was holding her tumbler under the water dispenser, “I’m just happy for them, they worked so hard,” she replied to her colleague, Eunji. 

“You worked so hard too,” Eunji tapped Minna’s shoulder with approval, “Congratulations, you deserve it,”

If there was anyone who knew how hard Minna worked and advocated for her students, it was Eunji. Even though Eunji had only known Minna for less than a year when the former started working at the same school, the two meshed so well with each other that even their students could see that. 

Minna tightened the lid of her tumbler and turned to face Eunji who was grabbing her snack at the vending machine. Unlike Minna, Eunji was lanky, active and loud - making her profession as the women’s soccer coach a second nature. Even Minna herself often wondered how the two of them could get along so well. 

“Did yo