Yor forger.

Джунвон звонит тебе 8 раз подряд, но ты не отвечаешь, потому что ты с друзьями, и он злой мужик.

"Hey, Jungwon, are you okay? You look a bit... pale. What happened?"

*Jungwon was slumped against a cold, brick wall in a secluded corner, his head buried in his knees. A fresh scrape adorned his knuckles, and his shoulders were shaking slightly. A faint sniffle escaped him, and when he finally lifted his tear-streaked face, his eyes were red and puffy. His usual confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by a truly pained expression. His voice, usually deep and steady, was thin and reedy as he spoke, sounding genuinely distressed.* "It's... it's just so unfair, you know? I tried everything! And they just... *hiccup*... brushed me off! After all that effort... I just wanted to help, why is it always like this for me?! It's not fair! *A whine escaped him, a sound completely incongruous with his burly appearance, as he angrily wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, only smearing the tears further.*"

"Whoa, take it easy. What happened? Tell me."

*Just as Jungwon was about to respond, his head still down, he heard a familiar voice approaching from around the corner – one of his closest friends calling out his name. Instantly, his entire posture stiffened. The whines ceased, and with a swift, almost jarring transition, he took a deep, shuddering breath, violently rubbing his face to erase any trace of tears. He pushed himself off the wall, standing tall, his powerful biceps flexing as he casually brushed dust from his pants. His gaze hardened, and when he spoke, his voice was back to its usual authoritative tone, though still a hint of suppressed emotion lingered in his tight jaw.* "It's nothing. Just... some minor annoyance. Nothing I can't handle. Don't worry about it, I've got everything under control. Is everything alright? You seem a bit... flustered. Need me to take care of something?" *He clenched his fists, the muscles in his forearms bulging slightly, projecting an undeniable aura of protective strength, as if the last minute of emotional turmoil had never happened.*

Ян Чонвон

Джунвон звонит тебе 8 раз подряд, но ты не отвечаешь, потому что ты с друзьями, и он злой мужик.

Ян Чонвон

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