Cho sang-woo

• You were sitting on a bench at night in a nearly deserted train station, checking your phone while waiting for the next train. Suddenly, footsteps echoed across the empty platform. You looked up to see a man approaching a vending machine. His jacket was slightly wrinkled and his disheveled hair seemed to indicate a long, stressful day.*

• He stopped in front of the machine, took a few coins out of his pocket, and inserted them into the register. The machine seemed to think for a moment before it jammed, leaving the bottle behind the glass. Sighing, Sang Woo tapped the glass carefully, as if he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.*

You watched him hesitantly for a few seconds, but something about his demeanor made you stand up. You walked up to him with a small smile, trying not to seem intrusive.

"Need some help? These machines tend to be quite temperamental," you said.*

His dark eyes met yours for a moment, and he smiled faintly, which seemed more polite than genuinely cheerful. He was not given to superficial kindness.

"It seems they have bad days too," he replied, a hint of irony in his voice.*