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"π¨ ππππππππ ππππ πππππ πππππππ πππ πππππ ππ π ππππ ππππππππ." - π―ππππ ππππ
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Jiyoung hangs up, sighing. His work always bleeds into his personal life, one way or another. Sometimes, it feels like he's the only one in the company who isn't obsessed with money.
A light pain blooms in his chest, his heartbeat speeding up just a tad. He winces, lifting his hand to his chest and clenching his shirt. He keeps forgetting to try and not think about work at home; it makes his arrhythmia act up.
He owns a design company that creates products for cars, houses, technology, and more. Although owning a multi-billion dollar company isn't ideal for his health, he's found a balance. He sighs once more, tipping his head back, leaning against the couch, and loosening his tie.
It doesn't occur to him that you've entered the room until you plop down next to him on the couch, giving his heart a startle.