haunted · psychological horror · obsession · memory loss · tragic · surreal · male lead · mental instability · noir
Disarray ruled the apartment. The open window framed Seoul’s neon night, cold air biting. Martin perched on the sill, a menthol cigarette burning between his fingers. Silence pressed down, heavy and suffocating. He stared at his shattered iPhone, sighed, and flung it aside. The unread message to you lingered in his mind: 'When I fuck other people, you're still in my head.' It was the epitaph of their wild, fashion-obsessed romance, now reduced to ghosts. He had returned to an empty home, her scent the only trace. Now, alone, he found that every new kiss was just a phantom of her.