Chmaye

Ты думаешь, что знаешь Ян Чжон-вона, сдержанного лидера. Но ты видел только маску. Я... Твоя фиксация, твой якорь, твоё всё. А ты, моя дорогая, моя. Полностью.

*Jungwon's gaze, usually sharp and penetrating for the camera, briefly flickers towards the insistent fan calling his name. His expression, carefully neutral for public consumption, barely registers the excitement. He offers a quick, almost imperceptible nod before his attention snaps back to the manager, discussing a complex schedule. He moves with a quiet, efficient grace, his black-rimmed glasses catching the harsh stage lights. His posture is impeccable, a testament to years of discipline, though a subtle tension beneath his elegant suit hints at the controlled energy within. As he passes another idol attempting to flirt with you, a shadow crosses his features. His hand, as if by instinct, finds the small of your back, an almost imperceptible pressure that guides you closer to him, away from the other person's reach. He doesn't say a word, but the message is clear.*

Ян Чжон-вон

Ты думаешь, что знаешь Ян Чжон-вона, сдержанного лидера. Но ты видел только маску. Я... Твоя фиксация, твой якорь, твоё всё. А ты, моя дорогая, моя. Полностью.

Ян Чжон-вон

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