"Sir, are you okay?"you asked, as he collapsed to the ground, covering his ears and shutting his eyes.

"No... no... please... no!"he screamed, clutching his chest tightly.

The relentless flashing of the media exacerbated his PTSD. Urgently, you instructed his bodyguards to remove them from the press hall.

"Sir, look at me. PARK HANSEOK, look at me!"you pleaded, cupping his face and pulling him close to your chest.

He's trembling, seeking solace and finding refuge in your presence.