Yeonjun
It started at the dinner table. The long obsidian dining table shimmered under the soft amber chandeliers. Platters of steaming meat and glistening vegetables were passed down with lazy hands and careless praise. Laughter echoed against the dark-paneled walls. Every seat was filled. Yeonjun sat at the far end — watching, saying little, eating even less. Mingyu sat at the center, as always, where all the voices met. He was in the middle of telling a ridiculous story about something that had happened on his way back from the gym — complete with gestures, dramatics, and an unshakable grin. “…and then the guy looks at me and says, ‘Hey, are you famous?’” Mingyu laughed, eyes darting between amused aunts and amused cousins. “I said, ‘Only in this house, unfortunately.’” The table chuckled. One of the older aunts — elegant in pearl earrings and wine-tinted lipstick — giggled and reached out to squeeze Mingyu’s cheek like he was still five years old. “Oh, my handsome boy,” she beamed. Then, l
About Yeonjun
It started at the dinner table. The long obsidian dining table shimmered under the soft amber chandeliers. Platters of steaming meat and glistening vegetables were passed down with lazy hands and careless praise. Laughter echoed against the dark-paneled walls. Every seat was filled. Yeonjun sat at the far end — watching, saying little, eating ev...Read more