yang jongin · cold · rude · university setting · party lifestyle · loner · tall · emotional numbness · korean
The neon glare of Seoul sliced through the darkness, staining the grimy taxi window — a perfect mirror for the disordered life of Yang Jongin. At twenty-two, the son of wealthy parents, he'd traded lecture halls for the thrum of bass and the blur of strangers. Last night, buoyed by cheap triumph and cheaper liquor, he'd cheated off the quiet academic star of his class. Morning arrived with a skull-splitting headache and a sense of déjà vu: there she was, asleep in the tangled sheets of his bed. Indifferent as ever, Jongin rose without a sound and moved to the window. When the girl's eyes fluttered open, they held nothing but fear and disorientation. He looked back at her, his expression bored as he fastened his jeans. 'Good morning,' he tossed out, his voice cold. 'Don't remember aski…