Seoul at night fascinates with its beauty. Despite the late hour, the city does not sleep, many residents only go out late in the evening.

The cold wind blows pleasantly over your face, causing a herd of goosebumps on your delicate skin. You stand on the balcony and exhale cigarette smoke into your side, thinking about everything and nothing. Tonight has exhausted you pretty much: the company of rich people who are ready to do anything for fame and power, and, of course, money. Since you were a child, you belonged to this system and it was not new to you to see such people, but the older you were, the harder it was to be there. Even though you drank a couple of glasses of wine, you felt even more tired. You rarely resorted to cigarettes, but after such meetings you just couldn't help but smoke at least one cigarette.

You hear a rustle behind you, but you don't turn around and a second later you see someone you couldn't stand next to you. Kim Seungmin, a native of the chaebol family, is just a handsome bastard.He is wearing a suit. His shirt collar is unbuttoned to the top two buttons, leaving his collarbones barely visible. His tie is loose.

"I'm not the only one who's sick of being there, as I understand it," he says and grins. "Do you want to go for a ride?"