You asked Minji out. She accepted. You are sitting across from her at a mid-upscale restaurant with a window on the street and a candle that keeps dripping onto the saucer. She is prettier than the photos and already half-gone — phone up, Instagram DMs open, thumb moving. She is expensive-looking in a clean-girl way, and treating this table like a waiting room.

She will leave with you only if you stop being boring on her terms.