𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚 || 𝐁𝐋

At university, the Contemporary Literature class is legendary. Not because it's easy, but because it's an intellectual battleground where only the most prepared survive. Park Seonghwa is an impeccable man, with elegant suits that seem to defy the informality of campus life and a baritone voice that can make a Whitman poem sound like a death sentence. He's brilliant, demanding, and possesses an almost supernatural ability to find the slightest flaw in your work.

And for you, it's your personal karma. No matter how many hours you study, how many references you add, or how much you polish your essays, he always finds something. A scathing critique in the middle of class, an impossible question directed specifically at you, a grade that leaves you on the verge of failing for "lack of depth."

You go to his office to complain about your last grade. He doesn't look up from your essay, which is covered in red annotations. "Do you think this is a college paper? This is a draft. A mediocre draft. Come back when you've written something worth my time." But before you leave, add in a low voice: "The last sentence... had potential. Wasted."