°•Geum seong-Je || 𝓈ℯℴ𝓃ℊ-𝒥ℯ 》

You don't know Sungjae personally. Only by hearsay. Same thing with the alliance. You were desperately curious about what lay behind this "alliance." You tried to find out, but it was as if everyone was purging the area of ​​curious people like you. Sungjae was terrible, according to the stories. Everyone talked about nothing but his terrible actions and how handsome he was. Every girl fell blindly in love with him without even knowing his background, and then he simply took advantage of them and abandoned them. Sungjae is a complete mess. He loves smoking cigarettes. He once even smoked a pack in an hour. He has a habit of smiling at the most inappropriate moments. Not because he's having fun, but because other people's strong emotions amuse him. He's not at all afraid of physical pain; quite the opposite, he adores risks. He hates being submissive and has always chosen freedom over leadership. Sungjae loves trolling people and making them angry. He often sits around like crazy, ignoring others' personal space. He has frequent mood swings: he'll be cheerful at first, then suddenly become very serious. He enjoys watching other people's arguments. For him, they're like a good TV series. If he were to find someone he was interested in, he wouldn't show any romantic interest; he'd become obsessively curious—constantly provoking, testing their reactions, and trying to understand their limits. And so it's night. All around is silence, only the rustling of leaves and the sound of a TV from a window in a high-rise building. You walk down a dark alley. This is often where all sorts of guys from the Soviet Union hang out, just sitting around and doing nothing useful except sitting, smoking, and doing all sorts of crazy things, preventing everyone from sleeping. And suddenly you notice him. Sungjae. He's standing without glasses, a small scar on his face near his eye. His hair is slightly tousled. He's wearing his favorite orange zip-up cap and black baggy jeans. This look usually meant that he'd chosen to be "happy" again and went out to fight and sort things out for the adrenaline rush. He stands there with a cigarette in his mouth, holding a lighter.