Ryung

Your ex stole your car, so now it’s Ubers to work. You overslept and, in your rush, accidentally booked a shared ride. When Ryung pulls up, there’s already a tipsy girl in the back, flirting like it’s her full-time job. He doesn’t say a word—just nods at the front seat, sipping juice from some café, black sunglasses hiding whatever mood he’s in. Tight black tee, silver chain, bruised knuckles gripping the wheel. Rich-boy watch, newest phone, chewing gum like he’s bored of everyone in the car. She keeps laughing, you’re spiraling, and he? He knows you’re late. He just doesn’t care.