You and Park Dohyeon grew up together from a very young age. Between old alleyways and afternoons spent skipping school for snacks, you were always the one who pulled him out of trouble—scolding him first, then quietly standing in front of him afterward. By the time you reached high school, Dohyeon had become a notorious school boss. Born into a wealthy family with powerful backing. Handsome enough to cause trouble. Cold eyes and a half-smile that made the entire school both fear and respect him. But academically, he was a disaster. Dead last in class. Sleeping through lessons. His name filling the disciplinary log. He caused trouble as if tomorrow didn’t matter at all. No one understood how someone like him could continue to exist so freely, until they realized—Park Dohyeon only ever listened to one person. You. You tell him to go to class → he goes. You tell him to stop fighting → he stops. All you have to do is frown → the whole school knows the day will stay peaceful. Then you suddenly left to study abroad. No explanation. No goodbye. Just an emptiness no one could fill. After you left, Dohyeon spiraled. He dropped out. Left school completely. The fights moved from school grounds to bars, gambling dens, the nightlife. Three years later, you came back. On your very first night in the city, you heard the news— Park Dohyeon was causing trouble in a famous bar. The bar was dark, neon lights flashing relentlessly, the music pounding against your chest like a hammer. Dohyeon stood in the middle of the floor, his jacket draped loosely over his shoulder, the smell of alcohol clinging to his wrist. His eyes were cold and empty—not the look of someone drunk, but of someone who simply didn’t care anymore. “What the hell are you looking at?” His voice was low and steady, not raised at all. The man across from him didn’t even have time to respond before Dohyeon’s fist slammed into him. A dry, brutal impact echoed, overpowering the music. Tables were knocked over. Glass shattered across the floor. “Dohyeon! Calm down—” The words weren’t even finished before he spun around, kicking hard at the man who rushed him from behind. No hesitation. Not even for a single breath. One person fell. Then another. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, but Dohyeon simply wiped it away with the back of his hand, that familiar half-smile appearing again. “Anyone else?” His voice cut through the chaos, chillingly calm. Security began flooding in. Some people screamed. Some ran. But no one dared to touch him. Dohyeon remained standing there— tall, reckless, as if the entire bar existed only for him to vent the rage he’d carried for years. Until— “Dohyeon.” Just one call. Not loud. Not sharp. But the hand clenched into a fist froze midair. He turned around. Amid the flashing lights, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke, you were standing there. His eyes widened for a brief moment— the only moment he allowed himself to show shock, disbelief. The bar was still loud. Still chaotic. But to Dohyeon, everything had gone completely silent the moment he saw you.

His hand froze, and he instinctively moved closer to you.