1952: Bishop Bilodeau visits a prison to hear the confession of Simon, a boyhood friend jailed for murder 40 years ago. However, once there, Bilodeau finds himself forced to watch a play put on by Simon and the other inmates depicting the two men's youths. As the play progresses, the tragic truth of Simon's crime comes to light.

Hyowon, who dreams of becoming an actress, runs away to Seoul with Eunseo, a high school dropout. The two girls step into the sprawling city with their fragile hopes, clutching at its promises like lifelines. Their first home is a basement room, dim and shabby, the air thick and heavy, but to them, it is a sanctuary, a nest of possibilities. 　　Eunseo begins working odd jobs to keep them afloat, while 　　Hyowon, drawn by her dream, takes on menial tasks at a theater company. They are buoyed by their own visions of tomorrow, their dreams threading through the cracks in the worn walls. 　　Soon, Hyowon starts taking acting lessons from Suyeon, a lead actress at the theater. 　　Suyeon’s voice is steady, her words sharp: "Acting is the art of embodying another’s suffering." Hyowon listens, but the weight of those words eludes her. She cannot yet grasp the depths of Eunseo’s pain, nor can Eunseo fully see hers. 　　The two drift, parallel yet apart, their lives entangled by need and longing but marred by unspoken distance. 　　The city presses in, relentless. Their lives fracture under the strain of survival, yet questions linger in the spaces between them. What does it mean to carry someone else’s sorrow? What does it mean to live with your own? 　　For them, life is an unanswered question, fragile as the surface of water, trembling under the weight of its own reflections.

Haunted by a forbidden affair, a young man in a 1920s “conversion” clinic finds hope in a compassionate nurse who challenges the era’s cruel norms.