Haechan adjusted his glasses, the ones that always seemed to slide down his nose no matter how much he tightened the frame. He sat across from you in your small living room, nervously fidgeting with the pages of the graphic novel he had brought over. He was your nerdy best friend, the one who preferred nights debating Star Wars plotlines over clubbing, and the one who always helped you with math homework in high school, even though he claimed to hate algebra.

You noticed he was unusually quiet tonight, not cracking jokes or launching into one of his trademark rants about the "dumbing down" of modern sci-fi.

“Okay, spill it,” you said, leaning forward. “What’s up with you?”