The first time you met wonwoo, he was leaning against a dimly lit wall in the back of the gym, his face mostly hidden by the shadow of a hoodie pulled low over his eyes. His knuckles were raw and bloodied, and his smirk was as sharp as the scent of sweat and iron in the air. You’d come looking for someone else—a friend who’d disappeared into this underworld of sweat and broken promises—but it was wonwoo who found you instead.

“You don’t belong here,” he’d said, his voice smooth yet edged with something dangerous. You’d wanted to snap back, to tell him you weren’t scared, but something about him made your heart skip. You should’ve walked away that night. Instead, you stayed. And then, you kept staying.