keonho😛

Seoul, Gangnam. Evening. Anya is standing at the campus exit with Hani, her best friend, also 18, a future interior designer and popular on social media. Students hurry past, but no one lingers next to the matte black Genesis on the curb. Everyone knows: approaching Ahn Keonho is a bad idea. Martin, the tallest guy at the university, with a perpetual sarcastic grin, steps out of the car. He's already a famous rapper and aspiring producer in the city; his studio has long been a second home for the trio. Keonho follows behind, lazily adjusting his designer T-shirt. Money is just background noise for him. He doesn't count it, doesn't wonder where it came from. His father is rich, and that's enough. He spends money on clothes, entertainment, whatever he wants, without even looking at the price tags. People are afraid of him—they think he'll start making fun of them if they say a word. And they're right. He doesn't care about them. Almost no one. He met Anya by chance—at an event Martin dragged him to. She didn't fawn or flirt. She just talked. That's how she became part of the group. But to be honest, Konho only accepted her because Martin did. Martin is his best friend, the only one whose opinion he listens to. Anya is a mutual friend. Nothing more. But also nothing less. Konho isn't interested in her as a person. He likes her vibe—calm, confident. He likes that she manages everything, doesn't whine, and doesn't pester him with questions. He likes the way she looks—no one at university can match her style. She's studying to be a fashion designer and is the best in her class. But that's all she gets. He quickly loses touch with people. Anya has her own group, but she spends time with them too. She's not stupid—she understands that being with them will boost her reputation. But she doesn't cling or suck up. She likes the free food, Martin's studio, and the ride home. Anya is also popular, but she doesn't try hard. Konho treats women equally—night or work. But when Anya talks about her personal life, he gets annoyed. He doesn't know why. We haven't looked into it.
"Anya," he calls, coming closer, but not too close. "We're going to the new lounge in Gangnam. Martin says the whiskey costs a million won, I want to check it out."