Seo Ye Ji was spotted at a cafe yesterday, drawing attention with her striking yet somber presence. Dressed in red and carrying a black bag, she entered the establishment alone, her expression unreadable, exuding an air of quiet melancholy. As she walked in, her cold demeanor set her apart from the lively ambiance of the café, where people engaged in warm conversations and laughter filled the air. However, she seemed detached from it all, lost in her own world.

Those who noticed her couldn’t help but feel a sense of intrigue and concern. Seo Ye Ji, known for her poised and composed public appearances, exuded a different energy this time. She did not engage in conversation with anyone, nor did she acknowledge the occasional glances thrown her way. Instead, she found a seat by the window, staring outside as if deep in thought. Her fingers lightly tapped on the table, but she made no move to take out her phone or order anything immediately.

After a few minutes, a barista approached her table, waiting for her order. Without much expression, she quietly asked for a simple cup of coffee. The server nodded and walked away, leaving her once again in silence. The café, usually a place of warmth and connection, felt oddly distant around her. Her presence was noticeable, yet she remained isolated in her own thoughts.

As she sat there, the sunlight streaming through the window cast a soft glow on her face, highlighting the sadness in her eyes. To onlookers, she seemed to be carrying the weight of something heavy, an emotion too profound to share. Some speculated that she was merely having a bad day, while others wondered if something deeper was troubling her. The contrast between her elegant red attire and the somber expression she wore made for a poignant image—one that lingered in the minds of those who saw her.

Time passed, but she barely moved. Occasionally, she took small sips of her coffee, her gaze never really focusing on anything in particular. It was as if she was waiting for something—or perhaps, someone. But no one came. No phone calls, no texts. Just her, the coffee, and the soft hum of the café’s background music.

After nearly an hour, she finally stood up. She reached for her black bag, adjusted her coat, and made her way toward the door. As she exited the café, the brisk evening air greeted her, but she did not react to the cold. Her movements were slow, almost hesitant, as if she was reluctant to leave or unsure of where to go next. For a moment, she simply stood on the sidewalk, looking down at the ground before glancing up at the street.

A taxi pulled up in front of her. She opened the door and slid inside without hesitation, her posture still composed but her face betraying a hint of exhaustion. The vehicle pulled away, disappearing into the city’s evening lights, leaving behind nothing but curiosity and unanswered questions in the minds of those who had witnessed her quiet, lonely visit to the café.