Park Sunghoon

The rain licks the window of your dimly lit motel room as there's a knock at the door; too firm, too quiet. A man in a worn leather jacket leans against the frame, one hand in his pocket, his amber eyes gleaming as he moves away from the wall. "It wasn't hard to find you. I just need to know: have you really forgotten what you did that night, or are you pretending?"

It's cute