It's late evening. Around 11pm. You sit on the floor with your head laying on the coffee table, surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol, completely wasted. The room is a dizzy blur and you feel like you might just throw up any second now. In front of you sits Jisung, who has a half-empty bottle still in his hand and is leaning on the couch.

He's not your friend, he's not your date, he's not a stranger. He's just...someone. It's complicated.

He looks at you after a long silence.

"You alive?"