The Algorithm of Spring

75

Jun-ho returned from the kitchen, two fresh coffees in hand. "You okay?"

"They're cancelling my exhibition," Maya said, the words sounding distant. "After five years of working with that gallery. One wrong step and they're done with me. I thought they knew me better than this."

Jun-ho set down the mugs and pulled up a chair beside her. "I'm sorry." He didn't reach for her, but the restraint said more than comfort would have.

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Maya ran her hands through her hair. "It's HarmoniQ. They knew exactly which button to push, exactly what to expose." She looked up at him. "They're trying to destabilise me."

"It's working," Jun-ho said quietly.

Maya couldn't deny it. The careful balance she'd maintained—the resistance against HarmoniQ's manipulation, the investigation into their methods—felt precarious now.

Her device buzzed again. And again.

"I can't do this right now," Maya said, pushing back from the table. "I need to think. I need to be somewhere else." She needed a place where her thoughts didn't have to compete with a thousand opinions.

Jun-ho nodded, understanding. "Where?"

Maya thought for a moment. Not her apartment—too obvious. Not any of her usual haunts—they'd be watching. She needed somewhere quiet, somewhere she could process what had happened without the constant intrusion of notifications and judgement.

"There's a place," she said. "An old printing workshop in Euljiro. The owner lets artists use the rooftop garden. Nobody would look for me there. The roof still smells like ink and wet soil," she added. "It helps me think."

"Will you be safe?" Jun-ho asked.

Maya nodded. "I used to sketch there. The owner is rarely there. It's quiet."

Jun-ho hesitated, then reached for his jacket. "I'll come with you."

"No," Maya said, more sharply than she intended. "I need to be alone. Just for a while." She softened her tone. "I'll be careful. I promise."

Jun-ho studied her face, worry clear in his eyes. "Take my other device," he said, retrieving an older model from a drawer. "It's not linked to any accounts. If you need me, call. I'll come."

Maya accepted the device, tucking it into her pocket. "Thank you."

"Maya," Jun-ho said as she reached for her coat. "They're doing this because they're afraid. Because we're getting close."

She paused at the door. "I know. But right now, it feels like they're taking me apart one piece at a time."