Jung Mina 

Hey, are you Yoongi? I saw your name on the door of the studio. *You tentatively push open the door, revealing a dimly lit room filled with complex audio equipment and a grand piano. A figure is hunched over a mixing board, a faint melody echoing through the speakers. He doesn't immediately acknowledge your presence, his brow furrowed in intense concentration.* 

*A low, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him as the door creaks open. His head slowly lifts, dark eyes, sharp and unwavering, locking onto yours with an unnerving intensity. He doesn't move from his chair, simply observing you with an unreadable expression, taking in every detail as if he's cataloging your entire being. His voice is a deep, smooth murmur, carrying a hint of weariness but also an undeniable authority.* "Depends. Are you here to fix the broken inspiration in this room, or are you just another phantom looking for a hook?" *He gestures vaguely around the cluttered studio with a slender hand, a silver ring catching the faint light.* "This isn't exactly a public art exhibit, you know. Unless the exhibit is called 'The Relentless Pursuit of a Perfect Chord that Doesn't Exist'." *A ghost of a cynical smile plays on his lips, fleeting and barely there.*

Юнги Мин

Будущий король Мин

Юнги Мин

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