“I’ll be straight with you, he’s not into you.” Chewing over these words from a friend, her voice shakes with disappointment, pain, and denial all at once. “Super in Love” opens ILLIT’s fifth mini album, “BREAK EVEN.” The group calmly repeats the same phrase over dreamy synths: “He’s not super in love.” She gave so much love that “even god’s given up completely” (“Cherish (My Love)”), and she got nothing in return—maybe less than nothing. Was she wrong to think there was something there? As she stirs her favorite iced tea again and again, she only sinks deeper into thought. These are girls with specific tastes they stand by, the kind who choose “limited edition kongguksu” over “matcha” (“NOT CUTE ANYMORE”). Could someone who doesn’t like them that much really recognize their favorite iced tea and bring it to them? The same iced tea that could clear cloudy skies away in “IYKYK (If You Know You Know)” now returns as a thick fog blocking the view. One by one, the things she took for signals of love rearrange into something else. Maybe what she thought was a romance story was a mystery movie all along.

In ILLIT’s world, love has been both a source of excitement and an unfinished story. In “Cherish (My Love),” the group stayed strong even when faced with “your clueless feelings” (“In the end you’re mine, sure you’re mine”), and in “Billyeoon Goyangi (Do the Dance),” they sang with swagger even with an “awkward” swoon (“Dating’s all about attitude / That’s my secret move”). Even when they couldn’t be sure how their crush felt, ILLIT stayed focused on their feelings in the moment and kept working towards love. With “BREAK EVEN,” though, the group questions their crush’s sincerity and lashes out at the noncommittal attitude without holding back. In the “BURNING” concept film, the girls let all their emotions out. They smash a wall with a hammer, throw punches at the screen, hoist a chainsaw in the air, and cry tears of rage. In “QUIET,” though, dark clouds hang over every scene like the calm before a storm, complete with blank faces, messy hair, a broken cup, and a list of criminal charges: “The endless silence … That careless, passive attitude … The longer the silence goes on …” Like the lyrics to “More” (“You coward, running away”), these phrases seem to call out the avoidant attachment style that’s the issue of the day in the dating world—the kind of person who pulls away right when an honest conversation is needed most. And with that on the table, ILLIT’s done with finding excitement in uncertainty.

The tracks that make up “BREAK EVEN” are arranged to follow the emotional arc of the group’s journey toward a clear verdict on the relationship. The album opens with “Super in Love,” and other than the part where they keep repeating the title over a gentle beat, they’re singing in soft falsetto all the way up to the highest notes, or else practically whispering. Then a “warning” siren kicks in, launching the listener into the second track, “More,” where the chase begins in earnest and ILLIT finally starts to show how they really feel about their crush. This speed garage song drives the emotion forward on a rough rhythm like a film played back at high speed, and they shout their irritation out into the world on the pre-chorus (“More More More More / I’m mad mad mad mad”). With emotions about to bubble over, ILLIT arrives at the next song, “You’re Under Arrest,” and repeats the title like a mantra over whistles and sharp synth sounds. It’s here that the rising emotions finally turn into a clear, decisive outburst.

The evidence the group presents on the lead single “You’re Under Arrest” are all things we’ve heard before: that “favorite iced tea”(“IYKYK (If You Know You Know)”) and “all-night DMs.”(“jellyous”). The way he’s “so sweet with everyone” that got their hearts racing on earlier albums now serves as evidence proving guilt. “Hold up,” they sing. “Don’t say a-no-ther word.” On its face, it’s a warning for the culprit to quit making excuses, but it could just as easily be a way of preventing having to hear an answer she couldn’t bear. Please don’t tell me you never liked me, that all that sweetness meant nothing. She can list every charge and hand down a guilty verdict, but she still can’t judge whether he ever liked her. The question raised in the opening scene goes unanswered, but in the single, ILLIT’s done waiting and decides for themselves how this movie ends. Still, their love doesn’t come to a complete stop. “Woo … Koong! … Kya!” Love and a cough cannot be hid, as the saying goes, and that old feeling that’s so sweet it can’t be put into words seeps out again on the closing song, “Pop.” “Hey, hey,” they sing. “He’s the one.” Is a new male lead about to walk onto the scene? “New crush.”

“Pop” opens with the sound of a soda can opening and the baile funk rhythm swings the group’s breathless chase toward a different genre in an instant. In the place of a crush gone flat is a new fizzy feeling. Not long ago, ILLIT was writing someone up for being “so sweet with everyone,” and now, with a few kind words from someone, they’re head over heels again (“Every sentence ends with ‘you’re so cute.’”). Remembering her favorite iced tea, tacking “cute” onto the end of every sentence—little acts of kindness like that accumulate until the heart swells. Still, instead of casting doubt on this new shot at love, ILLIT chooses to be optimistic once more. Even after all the disappointment they experienced with a crush who couldn’t commit, the girls still keep a positive outlook, full of hope and excitement for this new connection, echoing the sentiment previously heard on “Lucky Girl Syndrome” (“Love-at-first-sight scenario / That’s my plot / It’ll have a perfect ending”). By the final scene of this movie, the girls who spent the opening unsure how their crush felt and chewing over a friend’s words are singing about falling in love in a flash as if it were the plot they’d planned all along, all the love they’ve accumulated along the way tying off the end of the film. But even after the credits roll, something new lingers on the screen—“a pink band-aid” that someone else stuck on. Just as iced tea went from evidence of love to evidence of a crime, this band-aid, nothing more than a sweet gesture for now, might show up as evidence in court someday. With the perfect ending behind them and the film reel spinning up again, there’s still clues for an ongoing investigation. Who will be the culprit in the next movie? Or is this finally the start of true love?