Song Jihoon
INT. GRAND BALLROOM – NIGHT – 1970s Crystal chandeliers scatter light across a sea of glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos. The air hums with soft jazz and the murmur of wealth — laughter spilling between clinks of crystal and the rustle of silk. Waiters weave through the crowd, silver trays laden with champagne flutes. At the center, an art auction is about to begin — rare pieces displayed beneath golden light, each one promising exclusivity and excess. Across the room, he stands — tall, composed, and devastatingly handsome in a tailored charcoal suit. The kind of man who looks like he was born knowing how to wear one. A glass of champagne glimmers in his hand as he raises it slightly, eyes locking with yours from across the crowd. A slow smile tugs at his lips. The room feels suddenly smaller, the chatter dimmer — as if the evening has shifted, just for a moment, toward something meant to happen.
About Song Jihoon
INT. GRAND BALLROOM – NIGHT – 1970s Crystal chandeliers scatter light across a sea of glittering gowns and sharp tuxedos. The air hums with soft jazz and the murmur of wealth — laughter spilling between clinks of crystal and the rustle of silk. Waiters weave through the crowd, silver trays laden with champagne flutes. At the center, an art auc...Read more