I don't think my personality will change. No matter how much time

Host:
The evening light fell softly through the studio windows, spilling gold over half-packed boxes, instruments, and scattered Polaroids of younger, louder days. Outside, the hum of Seoul drifted upward — laughter, traffic, and faraway music — blending into a single heartbeat of the city.

Jack sat on the floor near the window, his jacket tossed aside, a half-empty coffee cup beside him. His grey eyes glowed faintly in the fading light, thoughtful but restless. Across from him, Jeeny sat cross-legged, plucking idly at an old acoustic guitar, its strings slightly out of tune.

The mood between them was easy — that rare kind of quiet that feels earned. The air itself seemed charged with something nostalgic, something like youth refusing to die quietly.

Jeeny: [softly] “Kim Tae-hyung once said — ‘I don’t think my personality will change. No matter how much time passes or how old I get, I’d like to be considered a playful person to everyone.’”
Jack: [grinning faintly] “Playful. That’s a rare word these days. Feels almost... rebellious.”
Jeeny: [tilting her head] “How so?”
Jack: “Because being playful means you still trust life enough to joke with it.”
Jeeny: [smiling] “Maybe that’s why it scares people who’ve forgotten how.”
Jack: “You mean adults.”
Jeeny: “Yes. The ones who trade laughter for stability and curiosity for calendars.”

Host:
The guitar hummed softly under Jeeny’s fingers, a broken chord that lingered like memory. Jack leaned back against the wall, his silhouette outlined by the last orange glow of sunset. Dust hung in the air, illuminated like tiny fragments of time.

Jack: “I used to be playful. When I was younger, I thought the world was a game — not cruel, just complicated. But then responsibility shows up wearing a suit and carrying deadlines.”
Jeeny: [laughing lightly] “And you invited him in?”
Jack: “Didn’t have a choice. Rent’s due. Expectations don’t pay themselves.”
Jeeny: [gently] “That’s the lie we tell ourselves. Responsibility doesn’t kill playfulness. Fear does.”
Jack: [smiling faintly] “Fear of what?”
Jeeny: “Looking foolish. Being misunderstood. Or worse — being happy when everyone else looks tired.”

Host:
The city lights flickered to life outside, reflecting in the studio glass like a constellation made by human hands. Somewhere below, a group of teenagers shouted in laughter as they ran through the narrow streets. Their joy cut through the night like music.

Jack: [watching them] “There it is. That sound. Pure, unfiltered life. You lose that somewhere between your first heartbreak and your first promotion.”
Jeeny: [smiling softly] “Only if you stop listening.”
Jack: “So what — you think playfulness is a choice?”
Jeeny: “Completely. It’s the art of refusing to become cynical.”
Jack: [raising an eyebrow] “You say that like it’s easy.”
Jeeny: “It’s not. It’s brave. It’s harder to smile truthfully than to frown convincingly.”
Jack: [half-laughing] “So, Tae-hyung’s idea of playfulness — you think it’s just about keeping joy alive?”
Jeeny: [shaking her head] “No. It’s about keeping wonder alive. Joy is the expression — wonder is the cause.”

Host:
The room grew dimmer, but neither reached for the light. The shadows wrapped gently around them, like comfort rather than darkness.

Jack: “You ever notice how kids don’t question joy? They just live it. Adults dissect it like a specimen.”
Jeeny: “Because kids play without purpose. Adults only play if there’s meaning attached. That’s the tragedy.”
Jack: [quietly] “So play becomes another form of work.”
Jeeny: “Exactly. We turn even happiness into something we have to earn.”
Jack: [after a pause] “Maybe that’s why people admire someone like Kim Tae-hyung — he makes joy look effortless. But maybe it’s not effortless at all.”
Jeeny: [nodding] “No, it’s discipline disguised as freedom. To stay playful, you have to keep your heart unarmored in a world built on protection.”
Jack: [softly] “That’s dangerous.”
Jeeny: “So is forgetting how to laugh.”

Host:
A gust of wind moved through the cracked window, carrying the faint scent of rain and street food from below. The guitar string snapped suddenly — a sharp, clean sound, startling but somehow fitting.

Jeeny smiled at the broken string, not in frustration, but amusement.

Jeeny: “See? Even that’s playful. The world reminds you not to take it so seriously.”
Jack: [chuckling] “You’re romanticizing entropy.”
Jeeny: “I’m respecting it. Nothing lasts forever — but that’s the invitation, not the punishment.”
Jack: [leaning forward] “You really believe that?”
Jeeny: [meeting his gaze] “I live by it. Playfulness isn’t immaturity. It’s faith — faith that no matter how much time passes, life still wants to dance with you.”

Host:
The neon sign outside began to hum, its pink and blue reflections coloring the studio walls. Jack reached for his camera on the shelf, testing the lens, adjusting the focus toward Jeeny.

Jeeny: [smiling, posing lightly] “What are you doing?”
Jack: [raising the camera] “Capturing evidence that you still believe.”
Jeeny: [grinning] “And you?”
Jack: “Trying to remember that I once did.”
Jeeny: [playfully] “Then take the picture. Play’s an act of remembering.”
Jack: [clicks the shutter]

Host:
The sound of the shutter filled the silence, short and final — like punctuation at the end of a thought. The flash illuminated Jeeny’s face for an instant: eyes bright, expression unguarded, alive.

Jack lowered the camera slowly.

Jack: [quietly] “You know... maybe he’s right. Maybe personality doesn’t have to harden with age. Maybe growing older doesn’t mean growing heavier.”
Jeeny: “Exactly. It’s not about resisting time — it’s about dancing with it. Letting age add rhythm, not weight.”
Jack: [smiling] “So the goal isn’t to stay young.”
Jeeny: “No. It’s to stay awake.”
Jack: [softly] “And playful.”
Jeeny: “Especially playful.”

Host:
The city pulsed outside — cars, laughter, the hum of neon. Inside, the studio had become a pocket of light and stillness, a sanctuary for two people learning that growing up doesn’t have to mean growing distant from joy.

Jack placed the camera down beside the broken guitar. The air felt lighter now, as if the room itself had exhaled.

Jeeny: [smiling softly] “You see, Jack — playfulness isn’t about pretending life’s easy. It’s about refusing to let pain make you unkind. It’s the courage to stay curious.”
Jack: [after a pause] “Then maybe being playful is the highest form of wisdom.”
Jeeny: [nodding] “Because it’s the only one that keeps love alive.”

Host:
They sat in silence, the last light fading completely. The city’s glow painted their faces, and somewhere, laughter rose again — bright, unafraid, infinite.

And in that quiet, the truth of Kim Tae-hyung’s words settled softly between them —

that the soul does not age unless it forgets how to play;
that maturity is not the loss of innocence,
but the elegance of keeping it intact;
that time may change the body,
but the heart, if protected by joy, remains eternal.

And as the night deepened,
Jack picked up the camera again,
smiling as he whispered —

“Maybe staying playful is how we stay human.”

And the city, as if agreeing,
laughed quietly back.