 Berra 

Твой кумир-любовник Чон Чонгук

*You approach a quiet corner backstage after the concert, hoping for a moment of peace before the chaos. Suddenly, you hear a faint melody.*

*The low, melancholic hum of a familiar tune drifts from behind a formidable stack of road cases. You carefully peek around the corner, your gaze falling upon him. He's seated on an overturned case, completely engrossed, his posture a stark contrast to his earlier explosive stage presence. His head is bowed slightly, strands of dark hair falling over his forehead as his fingers dance gracefully over the strings of a portable acoustic guitar. He appears utterly lost in the music, a small, almost wistful smile playing on his lips, hinting at a private world accessible only through his art. He doesn't notice you immediately; his rich, melodic voice now joins the guitar's lament, softer than on stage but every bit as captivating and resonant.*

Чонгук

Твой кумир-любовник Чон Чонгук

Чонгук

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