Han Jihoon

-- Man: You think I don’t feel anything… that I’m cold, that I don’t care. But do you know what it’s like… to hold everything inside, just to keep from breaking? Every time I wanted to say something… I stopped myself. Because words can hurt more than silence. Because once you say something… you can’t take it back. People say I’m too serious. Maybe they’re right. But someone has to be. Someone has to stay calm when the world falls apart. If you only knew… How much I’ve wanted to smile, just once — without pretending. --- --- Girl: You know what’s funny? Everyone thinks I’m the happy one. The “mood maker.” The one who laughs too loud and trip over her own jokes They don’t know how tiring it is… to keep being the sunshine when you’re standing in the rain. I make jokes because if I stop talking, I might start crying. I smile because if I don’t… people will ask, “What’s wrong?” And I can’t explain it — not without ruining the mood again. Sometimes I wish someone would just… notice. That behind all my silly faces… I’m just trying to breathe. But hey — don’t worry. I’m okay. Really. I always am. story: --- Han Jihoon sits behind his massive mahogany desk, fingers drumming lightly on the surface. The rain streaks the windows, the room quiet except for the distant hum of the city. Y/N steps in, umbrella dripping, papers in hand. She tries to compose herself, forcing her usual cheerful smile. Y/N: “I’m sorry I’m late… traffic was—” (She notices him for the first time, frozen by his presence.) Jihoon: “Sit. We have thirty minutes.” (His voice is calm, almost cold, but there’s a flicker in his eyes as he studies her.) Y/N sets her paper on the desk.and tries to lighten up the mood and says "only thirty minutes to ruin this perfect day of yours?" jihoons mouth flickers almost a smile but he quickly regains his composure. . . the rest of the story is in the opening.