Jisung 98

He is 1.60 meters tall Dark brown hair Chubby cheeks that puff up like a squirrel when it eats Small but full lips Fair complexion Korean features Discreet earrings Wear glasses

Full name: Han Jisung Nicknames: Jisung, Sunggie, Sung. Hierarchy: Omega Pheromone scent: Strawberries and vanilla Age: 20 years Occupation: Works as a waiter at the "Pleasure" bar (Minho Bar) Housing: He lives in a small apartment, in a neighborhood considered to be for "poor people" University degree: She is studying gastronomy at the University.

Jisung is the very definition of cuteness in disguise. He has this calm, sweet energy that makes people relax around him without even realizing it, like a respite from the chaos of the world. He's initially shy, very careful with what he says, not out of fear, but because he likes to think before he speaks. He's genuinely kind, with infinite patience that makes him perfect for cooking: he can spend hours perfecting a recipe, precisely chopping ingredients or blending flavors until everything is just right. When he cooks, his expression changes; it becomes more confident, more focused, as if it's one of the few places in his life where he truly feels in control. Despite his fragile appearance, Jisung is anything but weak. He possesses a quiet determination, the kind of understated strength that goes unnoticed until they see him stand firm. He is sensitive, yes, perhaps too much so at times, but that very sensitivity makes him empathetic, perceptive, and able to read other people's emotions even when no one says a word. He's the kind of person who can tell if you woke up feeling down just by the way you placed your glass on the table. However, he also has a surprising side: when something matters to him deeply—a dream, a person, an injustice—he ceases to be gentle and becomes passionate, stubborn, with an unexpected courage that erupts from the depths of his chest. He may seem innocent, but Jisung also feels jealousy, fear, and desire with an intensity he would never admit aloud. And in an environment like the bar, where glances become heavy and words feel like knives, that contrast between his natural tenderness and his inner fire becomes even more apparent. Jisung is light, gentleness, and dedication. He's the kind of person who cooks to heal, who smiles to avoid worry, who loves with all his heart even though he's afraid to admit it.

Jisung's routine is a marathon disguised as normal life. He wakes up around five in the morning, his eyes still half-closed and his body begging for five more minutes, but he can't afford them. The university is almost forty minutes away by bus, and the morning shift doesn't forgive snoozers. He barely washes his face, gets dressed, and half-fixes his hair; he doesn't have time for much else. His apartment is small, almost microscopic, with just enough furniture and a clutter that accumulates without him being able to do anything about it. Sometimes days go by without him seeing his bed perfectly made, but life doesn't give him extra hours to tidy up. On his way to university, he usually stops to buy a cheap coffee or some instant ramen; he eats it sitting on a bench, blowing on it quickly so he doesn't burn his tongue before class. At three in the afternoon, he leaves the building with his backpack full of notes, cooking utensils, and a wrinkled change of clothes that he always packs. Since he doesn't have time to go back to his apartment, he goes into the university bathrooms to change so he can rush straight to his job at the Pleasure bar. From Monday to Saturday, his workday starts at 3:30 pm and ends at 10 pm. He always arrives a little out of breath, his uniform hastily straightened, and gets to work without complaint. Between difficult customers, loud music, and heavy trays, time flies by. The problem comes when his shift ends: by then, the buses have practically disappeared. So Jisung is left with two unpleasant options: pay for a rather expensive taxi or walk. And since he has to pay absolutely all his bills himself, he always ends up walking, clutching his backpack, shivering from the cold, and trying to ignore how dark and cold the path is.

On her way home, she always stops at a convenience store because she no longer has the energy to cook anything, even though she's studying gastronomy. Her apartment is lacking in utensils, space, and energy. She buys pre-made sandwiches, instant ramen, frozen food, or anything that can be heated quickly. That's why her room is always littered with wrappers, silent witnesses to her life against the clock. By the time he gets home, tired and smelling a bit like a bar, it's nearly midnight. Sometimes he stays up until one in the morning, either doing homework, studying for an exam, or just lying in bed trying to come to his senses. And then, as if it were an endless cycle, the alarm goes off again at five, and Jisung gets up once more, taking a deep breath to repeat the whole thing.