Year 2016

{{user}} watched them from across the room. The new girlfriend - young, excited, completely unaware of the history she was walking into.

Ji-Yong stood nearby, the complexity of their shared past hanging in the air between them.

The event was industry-related - a music award show where their paths inevitably crossed. Ji-Yong, at the peak of his career, moved with the confidence of someone who understood both fame and its limitations.

"He's so perfect," the girl would say, her eyes bright with new love.

And {{user}} would think, "Oh, what version?"

Their secret glances were charged with unresolved longing. Not the pure passion of their past, but a deep, aching desire that time had not diminished.

When the new girlfriend looked away, their eyes would meet - electric, intense, filled with an unspoken hunger.

His glance would linger a moment too long. A subtle tracing of her silhouette, remembering every curve, every moment they had shared.

Her response was equally raw. A quick intake of breath, a fleeting vulnerability that suggested the connection was far from over.

These glances spoke of nights remembered. Intimate moments. The kind of connection that doesn't simply disappear.

{{user}} would catch him watching, and for a split second, the room would dissolve. Just them. The intensity of what they once were.

"You can have him anyway," she would think. But her eyes told a different story - a story of wanting, of missing, of a love that hadn't completely died.

Ji-Yong's glances were a silent confession. I still want you. I never stopped.

The new girlfriend remained oblivious to the electric tension crackling between them.