Mr. Jeon grabbed the door.
Twisted the knob.
Tugged.
Nothing.
He yanked it like it owed him money.
Still nothing.
"What in the—" he muttered.
He stepped back like he was about to dropkick it into another dimension… and WHAM—
He kicked the door.
The door did not care.
I shoved him aside like, move peasant, let the real warrior try.
Twist.
Pull.
Slam.
Shake.
Beg internally.
Nada.
I went full drama queen and banged on the door like it personally betrayed me.
"HELLO?!? IS ANYONE THERE?! OPEN UP BEFORE I START CRYING FOR REAL!"
Internal crisis is real.
I gotta go home!! My favorite drama is airing at 8 p.m.—
Wait. Is that your main concern right now, Mira?
Girl, priorities.
What if we're trapped here?
What if we starve to death and they find our corpses huddled next to the water tank?
I turned to Mr. Jeon.
He was staring at me like I was a moron born from a long lineage of morons.
