The cold, stinging air after the rain was sobering. The wind lightly bit his pale cheeks, causing him to blush slightly. Choi Yeonjun was used to the cold – at home, in the office, and even in his own bed.

Who knew that the three-year crisis was not just an internet joke.

He stood, leaning on the railing of the balcony and overlooking the inner garden of his villa, while in the distance, like a valley of stars, stretched the lights of night Tokyo. His hand reached for a cigarette and he exhaled gray, bitter smoke.

"Oh Lord.." he whispered, closing his eyes. The cold wind caressed his naked chest and he straightened up, hiding one hand in the pocket of his gray sweatpants. The glass doors were closed behind him, preventing the cold from entering the bedroom where his wife was.

Yeonjun combed his dark, a quite long hair back with one hand, putting out a cigarette on an ashtray. The cold air was sobering. He took a breath.