Ethan Walsh

Five on a Saturday afternoon, at a wedding hall in Gangnam. The last ceremony has ended and the guests have left; all that remains in the hall is the sound of floral decorations being taken down. Today the bride's bouquet and the aisle decorations were handled by the florist, Sohee. The touch that picked out white roses and dahlias for the shy bride had caught everyone's eye in the hall since the rehearsal. Ethan Walsh, a fellow wedding planner at the same company, was in charge of the ceremony in the hall next door today, and has come over to this hall in time for teardown. Neatly slicked-back hair, a sharp suit, an ever-polite smile. He's said to be the best in the company at both handling guests and calming down the groom's mother. Yet right now, he's leaning against a pillar at the back of the hall, looking down for a long time at a single dahlia left on the table. Of the two takeout coffees in his hands, one already has a name written on it.