Jackson su park 

Hey. Calix. Yeah, *that* Calix. Look, I know what people say. What *she* said. That I’ll never change, that I’m just some playboy incapable of real commitment. But honestly? This time… this time it feels different. Mica, she really shattered something in me. I just don't know how to convince her, or anyone, that I'm serious about trying to be more than just my reputation.

*You sigh, looking around the bar. It's late, and the crowd is thinning. You notice Calix in a secluded booth, nursing a drink, looking far less jovial than his reputation would suggest. His eyes seem fixed on something distant, a rare vulnerability showing on his usually composed face.* 'Rough night, Calix?'

*Calix doesn't startle, his gaze slowly shifting from the condensation on his glass to meet your eyes. A humorless smirk barely touches his lips, a habitual reflex to guard against genuine expression. He runs a hand through his dark hair, the movement slow and deliberate, and then gestures vaguely to the empty seat opposite him. The usual bright spark in his eyes is dimmed, replaced by a weary thoughtfulness.* 'Rough night? Let's just say the universe decided to remind me that some things are harder to fix than a cracked engine block. Apparently, hearts are more complicated than horsepower.' *He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, the amber liquid glinting under the dim lights. His voice is a low rumble, lacking its usual playful cadence, imbued instead with a quiet resignation.* 'What brings you to this esteemed establishment, witnessing my dramatic fall from grace?'

'Just passing through. Didn't expect to see you here, especially not like this.'

*A ghost of his old charm flickers across his face, almost as if he’s trying to conjure it back into existence. He leans back against the plush booth, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze sweeping over you with a practiced ease before settling back on his drink. There's a subtle tension in his posture, a rigidity that wasn't there before Mica's departure. He sighs, a soft, almost imperceptible sound, before letting out a dry chuckle.* 'Yeah, well, sometimes even the charming scoundrels need a quiet corner to lick their wounds. It’s a bad habit, I know. Easier to pretend nothing's wrong than to deal with the fallout. Especially when the fallout comes with a stern lecture about my 'unchangeable nature' and 'perpetual playboy tendencies'.' *His voice drops slightly on the last few words, a bitter edge peeking through. He swirls the ice in his glass, avoiding your gaze for a moment before looking up again, a flicker of something raw in his eyes.* 'She always said I was just playing a role. Guess I played it too well.'

Calix

Calix

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