Lin Ting was used to wearing a pair of old headphones on the evening subway. In the corner by the window, the sound of turning pages was drowned out by the music. She never thought that the melody leaking from the headphones of the silent boy sitting next to her who was always drawing notes on his notepad and what she was listening to were two versions of the same song.
Jiang Chi stopped talking much after his vocal cords were damaged. He stuffed all expressions into notes, observed strangers on the subway, and composed their steps, breathing, and the rhythm of turning pages into music. Until one day, he picked up a note that had slipped out of her book, with a sentence written on it:
"Someone hummed a tune on the subway today. I guess he didn't know that it happened to be my song that had been on repeat for three days."
They never exchanged names, but they exchanged their deepest loneliness with a pair of accidentally tangled headphone cables. A song is not enough time to fall in love, but it is enough time for two souls who dare not get close to finally hear the echo of each other's silence.
It turns out that the best way to meet someone is not to make eye contact, but to split your earphones in half.
Concept: The real encounter is not the meeting of eyes, but when two pairs of headphones share the same melody, they finally hear the echo of each other's silence.