The room suddenly became quieter after Sihoon's words.
"We'll talk to uncle ourselves."
Even Minhu's mother looked worried hearing that.
Before anyone could say anything else—
footsteps slowly echoed from upstairs.
All of us immediately turned toward the staircase.
And then—
Minhu appeared.
Still wearing his study clothes, his hair slightly messy, and complete confusion visible on his face the moment he saw us sitting in his living room at seven in the morning.
For a few seconds—
he just stared at everyone silently.
Then his eyes slowly widened.
"…What are all of you doing here?"
Yian immediately pointed at Sihoon again.
"This psychopath dragged us here before sunrise."
"I told you this was a bad idea," Yoonji muttered.
But Minhu wasn't even listening to them anymore.
Because the moment his eyes landed on the project papers in his mother's hands—
his expression changed instantly.
"…Mom?"
A quiet tension filled the room again.
Meanwhile—
Sihoon calmly stood up from the sofa.
"We came here because of the project," he said directly.
"And because we think you shouldn't give up before even trying."
Before Minhu could say anything else—
another voice suddenly came from behind us.
"What is going on here?"
The atmosphere in the room instantly froze.
Slowly—
a man walked downstairs.
His sharp expression alone was enough to make the entire house feel colder somehow.
Minhu's father.
The moment Minhu saw him, his shoulders stiffened immediately.
Beside me—
Yoonji quietly grabbed Yian's sleeve in panic.
Even Yian stopped joking for once.
Meanwhile—
Sihoon stayed calm.
Minhu's father looked around at all of us before his eyes landed on the project papers in his wife's hands.
Then his gaze slowly moved toward Minhu.
"…Explain."
His voice was low, but somehow that made it even scarier.
For a second—
no one spoke.
The silence became painfully heavy.
Then suddenly—
Sihoon stepped forward first.
"We came here to talk about the film project."
The moment he said that—
Minhu's father's expression hardened immediately.
"What project?" Minhu's father asked coldly.
The atmosphere instantly became tense again.
Minhu quickly stepped forward before anyone else could speak.
"Dad, it's just a film project for the school festival," he explained nervously.
"I was already planning to remove my name from it—"
But before he could finish—
his father cut him off sharply.
"A film project?"
His voice became colder.
"You woke up early for something this meaningless?"
Minhu immediately lowered his head slightly.
"No, dad, I just—"
"I sent you to school to study," his father continued firmly.
"Not to waste time running around with cameras and trips."
The room became completely silent.
Beside me—
I could feel Yoonji getting nervous again.
Even Minhu's mother looked worried now.
Meanwhile—
Minhu stayed standing there quietly, unable to say anything back.
And somehow—
that silence felt sadder than being scolded.
"Uncle," Sihoon said calmly.
"We know studying is important."
"No one here is saying it isn't."
"But besides studying, students also need a way to express themselves."
"They need experiences too."
For a moment—
Minhu's father simply stared at him.
Then a bitter laugh escaped him.
"Oh?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Now you're going to teach me how to raise my son?"
The anger in his voice made the room feel smaller.
Yian immediately looked down.
Yoonji stopped moving completely.
Even Minhu seemed frightened.
But Sihoon didn't step back.
"No, uncle," he replied respectfully.
"I'm not trying to teach you."
"Then what are you doing?" Minhu's father asked sharply.
"If you understand how important studying is, then why are you all standing here arguing over a film project?"
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Then Sihoon looked toward Minhu briefly before speaking again.
"Because this matters to him."
For the first time—
Minhu's father looked surprised.
Only for a second.
Then his expression became unreadable again.
"And how exactly do you know what matters to my son?" he asked.
"Uncle…"
Sihoon's voice remained calm despite the tension.
"Have you ever asked Minhu what he likes?"
The room instantly became silent.
"Or what he wants?"
For a moment—
Minhu's father simply looked at him.
Then he answered firmly.
"This is the period when he needs to study."
His voice was cold and certain.
"What more does he need?"
"Good grades."
"A good university."
"A stable future."
"That's what matters."
The words echoed through the room.
No one spoke.
Then Sihoon slowly looked toward Minhu.
"Does it?"
Minhu's father frowned immediately.
"What do you mean?"
"Good grades are important," Sihoon replied.
"But if someone spends their whole life only studying…"
"…without ever being asked what they want…"
"Can you really call that a future?"
The atmosphere became heavier.
Beside me—
I noticed Minhu staring at the floor.
His hands were clenched tightly.
Then his father spoke again.
"And what do a group of teenagers know about the future?"
His voice carried years of experience and frustration.
"You think dreams pay bills?"
"You think films and festivals guarantee success?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Because honestly—
none of us could.
But somehow—
Sihoon still didn't back down.
"We're not saying Minhu should stop studying."
He looked directly at Minhu's father.
"We're only saying he deserves to be heard too."
For the first time—
Minhu slowly lifted his head.
For a moment, Minhu's father stayed silent.
Then he looked directly at Minhu.
"Fine," he said.
"Tell me."
"What do you want, Minhu?"
The words sounded like a question.
But somehow—
his expression didn't.
His cold eyes remained unchanged, as if he had already decided the answer before hearing it.
The room became completely silent.
Beside me, I noticed Minhu's hands slowly tighten.
For the first time—
it felt like everyone was waiting for him to speak.
"Dad…"
For the first time—
Minhu slowly lifted his head.
His hands were trembling slightly.
"I really want to stay in this club."
The room became silent.
It was the first time any of us had heard him say what he truly wanted.
But his father's expression didn't soften.
Instead, he let out a bitter laugh.
"I see."
His voice was calm, but somehow that made it hurt more.
"So I was wrong all this time?"
"I pushed you to study because I wanted you to have a good future."
"Was that my mistake?"
Minhu immediately shook his head.
"Dad, that's not what I mean—"
"Then what do you mean?" his father interrupted.
"When your future falls apart because of these distractions, don't blame me."
The words struck harder than anyone expected.
Minhu lowered his head again.
"I'm sorry..."
His voice was barely audible.
Tears had already gathered in his eyes.
"Dad... it's not like that."
"I'll leave the club."
This time—
no one missed the tears falling from his eyes.
Before anyone could stop him—
Minhu turned around and ran toward the stairs.
"Minhu!"
his mother called after him.
But he didn't stop.
A second later,
the sound of a bedroom door closing echoed through the house.
And suddenly—
the entire room felt heavier than before.
Minhu's father looked around the room one last time.
His expression remained unchanged.
"You should all go home."
His voice was firm.
"And focus on your studies."
He glanced briefly at us.
"Things like this won't build your future."
No one answered.
The room felt completely defeated.
Then—
without another word—
Minhu's father turned around and walked upstairs.
A few seconds later,
he disappeared from sight.
Silence filled the living room.
Minhu's mother looked at the stairs before letting out a quiet sigh.
Then she turned toward us.
There was sadness in her eyes.
"Now you understand," she said softly.
"His father will never agree."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
"I think..."
She forced a small apologetic smile.
"You should go home now."
Beside me, Yoonji lowered her head.
Yian looked disappointed.
Even Sihoon remained unusually quiet.
Somehow—
it felt like all the hope we had brought with us that morning had been left behind in this house.
That evening,
I was working at the café like any other day.
Customers came and went,
coffee machines hummed in the background,
and the warm lights filled the room.
But my mind couldn't forget what had happened that morning.
Minhu's tearful expression.
His mother's helpless smile.
The disappointment on everyone's faces.
No matter how hard I tried—
those images stayed in my head.
Then suddenly—
the café door opened.
I looked up automatically.
And froze.
It was Minhu's father.
He walked inside calmly and took a seat near the window.
For a moment,
I simply stared at him.
My heart immediately started racing.
What was he doing here?
Should I just ignore him?
Pretend I didn't see him?
That would be easier.
Much easier.
But then—
I remembered Minhu.
I remembered how he lowered his head.
How he gave up before anyone asked what he truly wanted.
If I stayed silent now...
wouldn't I be giving up too?
My fingers tightened around the tray in my hands.
I was scared.
Really scared.
But somehow—
I didn't want to run away.
Not this time.
Taking a deep breath,
I slowly walked toward his table.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
And before I could lose my courage—
I stopped in front of him.
"Hello, uncle."
My voice came out much quieter than I intended.
The moment he looked up—
I wondered if I had just made the bravest or most foolish decision of my life.