BUMP!
The trolley hits someone.
Junho quickly steadies it, eyes lifting —
He looks up.
JUNHO
(startled, blinking)
"…You?"
It's SERI. In her usual gray hoodie, sleeves slightly rolled, casual joggers and sneakers. Her bangs gently framed her face, and despite her plain look—she's effortlessly cute.
She winces slightly, clutching a box of cereal she nearly dropped.
SERI
(deadpan)
"You really don't check your corners, do you?"
SERI
(takes a step closer, casually peeks into his trolley)
"Four apples, three bananas… and six cans of energy drinks?"
JUNHO
(defensive)
"That's called variety."
SERI
(squinting)
"Really? Looks more like a fruit salad trying to survive in a caffeine jungle."
JUNHO
(half-smirking)
"At least I didn't come here in a hoodie like I'm on a spy mission."
SERI
(loud, incredulous)
"Spy mission???"
(beat — in her heart)
Wait… does he know? Since day one?
JUNHO
(raises an eyebrow, cool but teasing)
"You didn't have to follow me looking like a budget spy from a midnight webtoon."
(beat, eyeing her hoodie)
"Honestly… were you going for covert ops or cozy dropout?"
SERI
(frowns, brushing off her hoodie)
"Hmm… I was going to meet you tonight. But now—"
(she gestures dramatically)
"—I get run over by a trolley, crash into your grocery cart, and somehow I'm the one stalking you?"
JUNHO
(squinting, arms crossed)
"Then explain why someone in a hoodie was following me from the snack section. You're not exactly subtle."
SERI
(deadpan)
"Well, I'm not exactly craving chocolate today, so why would I stalk you in front of the pretzel aisle?"
(beat)
She pauses, frowning slightly, a flicker of suspicion.
"Wait. Who exactly did you think was following you?"
SERI
(glancing behind)
"Strange… I don't see anyone in a hoodie…"
(squints)
"…well, except me."
(She scans the aisle one more time while Junho shifts uncomfortably, eyes flicking toward the snack section.)
SERI
(turning back to him, dryly)
"Relax. Finish your grocery run. I'll wait by the entrance."
(She turns to walk off—but Junho blurts out, almost defensively:)
JUNHO
(blurred panic, straight-faced)
"You… wanted to see me? Now? What? Why?"
(He blinks, processing his own words like he's just short-circuited.)
SERI
(staring at him with an exhausted sigh)
"Just… settle your apples and protein drinks quickly."
(She holds up her cereal box, shaking it lightly in mock farewell.)
SERI
"Your fan club's probably watching. Don't keep them waiting."
(She walks off, the sound of her footsteps fading into the aisle, hoodie swaying slightly. Junho watches her leave, lips parting like he wants to say something… but he doesn't.)
JUNHO
(muttering to himself, baffled)
"…Why does she always walk away with the last word?"
(He sighs, turns back to his half-filled trolley, staring at the bananas like they personally betrayed him.)
Seri leans casually near the sliding doors, a box of cereal cradled in her arms. Her posture is relaxed, but her eyes dart sharply — scanning.
SERI
(muttering under her breath)
"Snack aisle… hoodie…"
She watches as a couple teens in hoodies laugh their way out of the store, slurping on iced drinks. Another man walks by with a hood pulled up — earbuds in, clearly more interested in his playlist than any covert mission.
Nothing suspicious.
Just ordinary people. Too ordinary.
But still… the feeling lingers.
Something isn't right.
—
A shadow looms from behind her.
JUNHO
(flatly, with a hint of amusement)
"Are you guarding the cereal aisle or interrogating the air?"
Seri eyes Junho from head to toe, lips curved in a slow, mysterious smile.
SERI
(softly, teasing)
"Lead the way to your car, Mr. Park."
Junho blinks, confused but intrigued, then turns and starts walking toward the parking lot. Seri follows — still scanning the area, her instincts buzzing. Something still doesn't sit right.
They arrive at his sleek black car. Junho casually opens the trunk and begins placing his grocery bags inside.
That's when Seri pauses.
Her gaze sharpens, narrowing at the rear license plate area. Something's off.
She steps closer.
The license plate screws look freshly tampered — like they've been loosened.
But more than that — beneath the bumper, partially hidden — there's a small, square device, attached with black tape. Not a tracker she recognizes. It's subtle. Clean. And definitely not factory-installed.
SERI
(calm but alert)
"…Junho."
JUNHO
(grinning, tossing bananas in the trunk)
"What? Don't tell me you've never seen someone shop like a health nut."
SERI
(quiet, eyes still on the bumper)
"Don't move."
She kneels slowly and inches closer. Pulls out a thin nail file from her hoodie pocket like it's second nature. A flick. A nudge.
The device drops into her palm.
SERI
(low, serious now)
"Someone tagged your car."
Junho's smile fades. He looks at the device in her hand — dark, silent, unknown.
He meets her eyes.
JUNHO
"…So you weren't stalking me."
SERI
"Still considering it."
Beat.
SERI
"But congratulations, Mr. Park. You just got upgraded from charming CEO… to someone's target."
Junho stares at the small black device in Seri's hand like it might explode any second.
JUNHO
(tensing)
"…We don't know what that is. Could just be… a weird car alarm add-on."
SERI
(dryly)
"Sure. Because random people tape car alarms under license plates now."
She walks to the driver's side and stretches her hand out.
SERI
"Give me your keys."
JUNHO
(startled)
"What? No, you don't have to drive. I can—"
SERI
(sternly, cutting him off)
"So you'd rather drive yourself while being tracked, chased, and potentially stabbed in a grocery parking lot?"
Beat.
SERI
(dead serious)
"Maybe shot in the kneecap, or blown up at the next red light."
JUNHO
(already pale)
"Okay—okay! I get it!"
He fumbles into his pocket with the speed of a man avoiding doom and practically throws the car keys into her hand.
JUNHO
(muttering)
"You know, you could've just said 'please' like a normal person…"
Seri smirks as she slides into the driver's seat with military precision.
SERI
"Normal people don't get tailed by secret organizations."
Junho opens the passenger door more slowly now, eyes darting around the lot like an anxious civilian in a spy movie.
He slides in and buckles his seatbelt with dramatic caution.
She throws him a sharp side-glance as she pulls out smoothly from the parking lot, disappearing into the streets — the mystery just beginning to unravel.
INT. HANNA'S LUXURY APARTMENT – DAY
The storm may have passed, but its aftershock lingers.
Hanna stands by the window, her silk robe flowing as the city stretches far beneath her feet. In her hand, the phone lights up again — another message from Ryun.
She doesn't open it.
Instead, she dials a number from memory.
PHONE RINGS.
One ring. Two.
MALE VOICE (V.O.)
"Lee Junhoon, Seoul Daily. What's up, Miss Han?"
HANNA
(coolly, with a slight smirk)
"I've got something for you. Exclusive."
JOURNALIST (V.O.)
"Really? Entertainment or scandal?"
She walks to her vanity, starts brushing her hair with calculated elegance.
HANNA
"Both."
JOURNALIST (V.O.)
(amused)
"You don't usually play this game."
HANNA
(voice like velvet, dangerous)
"Well… this time, I'm not playing. I'm rewriting."
She picks up a photo frame on the table — a picture of her and Ryun, smiling in some past award night. She stares at it… then lays it flat, face down.
HANNA
"Let's meet. I'll give you a headline that will rip the mask off a golden boy."
She hangs up.
Beat.
Then, under her breath—almost a whisper:
HANNA
"…And remind them who the real queen is."
_____________
The engine hums softly. Seri drives with calm focus, but her brows knit slightly. Something's… off.
JUNHO
(arms folded, glancing at her sideways)
"You're really not going to tell me where we're going?"
She leans slightly forward, her eyes narrowing on the dashboard — the steering feels… tight? The brakes are a little too soft? She taps them lightly — once, twice — not enough to alarm Junho.
But she's thinking. Deeply.
SERI
(mutters)
"That's weird…"
JUNHO
(suddenly alert)
What?
SERI
"The car's alignment is off… Did you hit a curb or let a squirrel drive recently?"
JUNHO
(defensive)
"It was just a shopping trip. Not a car chase—why, should I have expected one with you around?"
She glances at him, trying not to laugh — but she's still focused.
Suddenly — a soft thud beneath.
Junho tenses.
Seri's grip tightens.
JUNHO
"…That wasn't the squirrel, was it?"
SERI
(dead serious)
"Shh."
Her eyes dart to the dashboard. She taps the brakes again — harder this time.
Nothing.
The car doesn't slow.
Seri's expression doesn't change, but her fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
SERI
(calmly to herself)
"Brake's unresponsive."
She shifts the gear — tries again. The pedal sinks beneath her foot with no resistance.
SERI
(slow exhale)
"…Okay."
JUNHO
(barely calm)
"Okay?? What do you mean okay—we're not stopping!"
SERI
"Relax."
Junho turns to her, about to protest—
Then her eyes flick to the side mirror. Something catches her attention.
A black sedan. Close. Too close.
Matching their speed. Hugging their tail.
SERI
(under breath)
"…What the—"
She doesn't finish the sentence. Doesn't need to.
Her expression hardens.
JUNHO
(sees her change)
"What? What? Don't tell me—someone's actually chasing us?!"
He cranes his neck to look through the rear window.
The black car blinks its headlights once.
SERI
(sternly)
"Seatbelt on. Sit back. Hold tight."
JUNHO
(already sweating)
"This is not the grocery trip I imagined—!"
SERI
"Junho."
He pauses.
SERI
"Shut up. Trust me."
She swerves gently off the main road, the steering still barely responsive.
They enter a quieter street, the sound of cars and people fading behind.
Now it's just them. And the sedan. Still behind.
The pressure builds.
Junho grips the side handle beside the seat, eyes flicking between Seri, the road, and the mirror.
She's laser-focused. Cold. Silent.
Not panicking — calculating.
SERI
(mutters)
"If they want a chase, I'll give them one."
She twists the wheel — the car veers sharply, racing into a narrow side street.
EXT. SIDE STREET – CONTINUOUS
Dust and gravel kick up behind them as they vanish into the alleyway.
The black car follows.
INT. BLACK SEDAN – CONTINUOUS
The driver smirks. Confident. Too easy.
EXT. CITY OUTSKIRTS – WIDE
Two cars.
One chase.