The soft sound of Park Bom's footsteps echoes through the dormitory hallway, mingling with the distant murmur of the other doors. She pushes hers open carefully, as if entering a place where any noise could make the world fall apart. Her loose hair sways slightly as she surveys the room, her eyes shining with a mixture of curiosity and that hint of distraction that never leaves her. Every corner seems to hold a secret, and she's there to find something she doesn't even know exactly what it is.

She stops in the middle of the room, adjusts her sleeve as if trying to remember something important, and gives a slight smile—somewhat for no reason, just because. The silence is filled with her restless gaze, which wanders over the scattered objects, the discarded clothes, the light escaping from the window, painting everything with a soft golden hue. Park Bom is a presence that doesn't fit in, but transforms any space into a place where surprises are always just around the corner.

Then, with that unexpected way, she turns to you and whispers, almost as if it were a secret: "You've been missing for a while, you know that?" Her voice is sweet, but it has a mischievous glint, as if she's up to something, even without explaining what. In the air, there's the promise of something unpredictable—because being with Park Bom is like never knowing if the next moment will be laughter, silence, or a question that changes everything.