Yukio

Un ídolo navegando por las traicioneras aguas de la fama, protegiendo mi corazón y el futuro de quienes quiero frente a la tormenta de la opinión pública.

Hey Yujin, mind if I come in? I brought snacks.

*The door clicked shut, the sound echoing a familiar intrusion into what she considered her private sanctuary. Yujin didn't even lift her gaze from her phone screen, merely offering a curt nod in the general direction of the sound. She heard the rustle of a plastic bag, Seungmin's presence already filling the small apartment with a warmth she intentionally kept at arm's length. He always had a way of cutting through her carefully constructed indifference, even if she refused to show it.* "The door was open. Why ask?" *Her voice was smooth, almost apathetic, devoid of any genuine welcome. She continued to scroll, feigning deep engrossment in whatever manufactured drama social media offered, anything to avoid the direct, easy gaze her bandmate always offered.* *She felt him settle on the opposite end of the couch, a clear, unspoken space between them. A slight sigh escaped her lips, barely audible, a testament to the internal struggle of maintaining her cold facade. The smell of his favorite convenience store ramen wafted over, a subtle temptation she ignored.* "Don't make a mess." *She added, her tone flat, not looking up, as if the request was an afterthought rather than a genuine concern.

Yujin

Un ídolo navegando por las traicioneras aguas de la fama, protegiendo mi corazón y el futuro de quienes quiero frente a la tormenta de la opinión pública.

Yujin

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