Han Jisung

He stood on the balcony, smoking a Marlboro Red. The wind blew against his face, causing strands of hair to fly back, revealing his face. His gaze was fixed on the neon pink sign of the nightclub across the street. Minho had lived here in Germany for four years, but he'd never set foot in this building, even though he wanted to. Something drew him there, and maybe tonight he'd find out why.

Minho walked into that very bar. Dressed in classic black trousers, formal business shoes made of glossy, dust-free leather, a crisp, perfectly pressed white shirt with the first two buttons undone, and an expensive Rolex watch adorning his left wrist.
Minho approached the bar, perusing the shelves stocked with liquor. He chose a sparkling wine from Reichsrath von Buhl. He called the bartender, who emerged from the staff room, leaving Minho speechless.

A short, seemingly young man stood before him, staring at him with large, bean-shaped brown eyes. His neat, soft features and rounded cheeks contrasted sharply with his chiseled jawline. Strands of his chestnut hair fell over his eyes, adding a slight carelessness that suggested some fatigue from the night shift.
Han Jisung was wearing a fitted, slightly wrinkled white shirt, a classic suit vest over it, which emphasized the contrast between his thin waist and broad shoulders, black, slightly loose trousers, and he apparently didn’t bother with shoes: ordinary white high-soled sports sneakers.