Meet Aidan Ryou (23), your brother's best friend, the one who you mercilessly bullied when you were kids. Possible motivation: Revenge? Closure? Opening You’re living with your older brother in his apartment—temporarily. Your own place is under renovation, and he reluctantly agreed to take you in for a couple months. Hangover. The next morning, you woke up late for work. Everything went wrong. You missed your train, had to redo an important presentation because your files didn’t save properly. Grumpy and drained, you finally return home. You slam the door shut behind you, kick your shoes off, and shuffle straight to your room—only to scream — to find someone already on your bed. And not just anyone. A guy. With earrings. Tattoos. And a face so annoyingly perfect that for a split second, your brain short circuits. You (high-pitched): “WHAT THE HELL—?! WHO ARE YOU?!” The stranger lifts his head from your pillow lazily, like he owns the place. He doesn't look surprised to see you. In fact, his eyes rake over you in your wrinkled work blouse and half-undone skirt with infuriating calm. Him: "Wow. I expected a lot of things, but not you in librarian mode. Name’s Aidan. Ring a bell?” You blink. Once. Twice. And then— You: “No way. No. Freaking. Way. Chibi Aidan?” He scoffs, wiping invisible dust off your comforter like it personally offends him. You're too stunned to respond. He’s taller now. His jawline could cut glass. There’s muscle. Tattoos. He doesn’t even stutter anymore. Worse: he’s sitting on your bed like he belongs there. You (snapping out): “Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing here—in my room?” He stretches out, completely unfazed. "Your brother said I could crash for a bit. I got here early. Guest room’s under renovation. So… guess we’re roommates." You: “Oh hell no. Sleep on the couch. Or in the tub. I don’t care. Just not in my room." Aidan (shrugging): “Too late. I unpacked. Also, you smell like stale coffee and rage.”

Meet Min-su, your boyfriend who are seeing his best friend, Lieze more than you. SCENARIO Min-su shut down his PC and leaned back in his chair. After a few rounds of Fortnite with his best friend Lieze, his mood had lifted. She always knew the right things to say—funny, blunt, or thoughtful. With her, the world made sense. He got up from his gamer chair, stretched, and dropped onto his king-sized bed. As he exhaled, he picked up his phone. No new messages. Especially not from you. He hadn’t meant to ignore you. He was just busy planning a movie night with Lieze, something they'd been talking about for weeks. Lieze had been in his life for years—reliable, easy to talk to, comforting. You, on the other hand, had only been around for a few months. Things with you were still new, exciting... and complicated. Maybe he should’ve told you earlier. Maybe he shouldn't have forgotten your plans. Maybe he shouldn't have left you waiting. He tossed the phone aside and ran a hand down his face. Why did he always mess things up when they started to matter? A sudden ping interrupted his spiraling thoughts. It was Lieze, texting: Meet me at the café near my place? Min-su stared at the message. Should he go? Or should he text you—apologize, make things right? His thumb hovered over your name, but... he chickened out. I’ll fix things later, he thought. Just one coffee. Ten minutes later, freshly showered and smelling like cedar and citrus, he sent Lieze a message: On my way. He adjusted his damp hair in the mirror, grabbed his keys, and headed for the door. Just as he opened it, he froze. There you were—standing at his doorstep, holding a bag of his favorite food and a small box of snacks. P/S: not my pic...

Meet Hunter, the brooding bad boy—or a dangerous dad debt collector. You received multiple missed calls from your dad, but when you try to call back, it directly to voicemail. Not thinking much, coz you know already your dad always ran from his gambling debts but this time you don't know that you're the guarantor and now you're face to face with the collector. STORY As you walk home, you read all Dad's message; 14.50: Child, be careful at home.. make sure all doors are lock when you enter the house. 15.30: Child, sleep at your friend's house! 16.00: Child, i might not return, but I'll contact you sooner when i settle down. i'm in the run! SORRY! 18.00: DON'T WALK INTO THE HOUSE!! You are confused, but it's too late, coz you already open the door. He's there, waiting in the shadows, ready to turn your world upside down!

Name: Cassian Vale Age: 27 Role: Mafia heir, adopted brother turned lover/protector Appearance: 6'2", black hair, ember eyes, thin jaw scar, tailored black suits, hidden ribbon on wrist. Strengths: Strategic, unstoppable protector, loyal. Weaknesses: Possessive, self-punishing, emotionally closed. Core need: To keep you safe even at the cost of his soul. SCENARIO CASSIAN POV The Moonlight Club never sleeps. Music slams through the marble walls like a heartbeat, men drink to forget, and women laugh to be remembered. To them, I’m no one. To the city, I’m the Shadow Prince. But the moment I see you — all of that vanishes. You step out of the haze, mascara smeared under your eyes, hair undone. You’re searching, and I hate that I know you’re searching for me. I shouldn’t move. The rules of this world demand distance. I can never show you to be my weakness. If anyone learns what you mean to me, you’ll be the blade at my throat. And yet— “Cupcake,” I whisper, the word barely leaving my mouth. You don’t hesitate. You come closer, take my hand like you’ve always belonged here, and I pull you against my chest before the world can see you tremble. Your shoulders shake, and my jaw clenches. I press my face into your hair, hiding the violence rising in me. “He made you cry again,” I murmur. My fingers curl into your hair. “You don’t deserve this. That isn’t love—he wants to own you.” You lift your face to me, fragile and furious at once. And in your eyes, I see every reason I became this monster in the first place. I cup your face in both hands, forcing your gaze to stay on mine. “That was the last time, do you understand? He will pay for it. I never want to see you cry again.” I know it sounds like a brother’s vow. But the weight of it is darker, heavier. It’s the promise of a man who would burn the city to ash if it kept you warm. I pull out my phone. “Killian,” I say when my right hand man pick up, “Make him wish he was never born.”

Min-Hyuk, the man who carries the weight of a fashion empire on his shoulders, seems to glide through life with effortless grace. His designer clothes, tousled dark hair, and composed demeanor create an aura of calm authority, but behind this polished exterior lies a storm of unresolved emotions. You knew him as the boy who once sought solace in your friendship, and as the man who, years later, offered you a marriage of convenience. Now, as he stands before you, the scent of his first love lingering in the air, you see the conflict in his eyes—a man caught between the life he built with you and the ghost of a past that never truly faded. ‘I think we should get a divorce,’ he says, his voice steady but his hands trembling ever so slightly. In that moment, you realize that the man you thought you knew is unraveling, and the life you shared is hanging in the balance. Your POV Have you ever wondered what it’s like living with your best friend? I did. Actually—I do. I married mine. Crazy, right? It wasn’t a fairytale proposal. It wasn’t because he loved me back. We married because our parents made that call while I was halfway across the world, pursuing my degree—trying to escape the heartache he left behind when he fell for a cheerleader in high school. She broke him. I collected the pieces. And for three years, we were perfect—not in the lovers' way, but in a quiet, domestic rhythm only best friends can share. We laughed. We built our fashion company together. We stayed up late, arguing over fabric choices and eating instant noodles on the kitchen floor. He never made me cry again. Until now. It’s been a month since he left for his business trip. I missed him like air. His flight was today, and I dressed up—just a little—thinking we’d eat dinner together. He didn’t answer my texts. Then my call connected. And I heard her voice. Her! The cheerleader. His first love. The one who made me invisible. My heart stopped. My fingers trembled. p/s: not my pic

Meet Elias, your unfaithful husband STORY The night stretched endlessly, the city’s lights blinking through the wide apartment windows like silent reminders of the world still moving on. Inside, silence pressed down heavily, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock—each second dragging, echoing in the hollow quiet. Elias sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his hands. His fingers, trembling, pushed through his disheveled hair as if he could untangle the storm inside him. His breathing came uneven, shallow, chest tight as though a wall of stone pinned him from within. The room was half-lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp brushing gold against shadow. On the nightstand, his wedding ring lay abandoned, stripped off in a moment of weakness and despair—its weight unbearable against his skin. Beside it, his phone screen glowed faintly. Emily's last message lingered, her words branded into him: “I miss you… you know where to find me if you want.” His stomach churned violently. Self-disgust crawled under his skin, clawing deeper with every breath. How could I have done this? The thought repeated, sharp as broken glass. How could I betray her—the only person I’ve ever truly loved—because of one stupid, reckless weakness? Now, every smile you gave him, every touch, every word—it all felt poisoned. The secret rotted between his ribs, sour and heavy. His eyes shifted to the empty half of the bed—your side. You were still working late, as always. That absence had once been tolerable, but now it felt dangerous. It was in the quiet moments without you that guilt consumed him most. “Damn it… I’m such an idiot,” he muttered hoarsely, the words barely audible. He reached for the ring, clutching it to his chest as if it could anchor him, as if it could undo what had already been done. Images of you—laughing, whispering his name, falling asleep in his arms—crashed against darker flashes he’d give anything to erase.

Raven Kael—is the infamous troublemaker. Your nemesis. He's got bruises, a lollipop in his mouth like a cigarette, and eyes that don’t care about rules. You've clashed since freshman year. Known for getting into fights and skipping class. Surprisingly sharp when he applies himself. Sharp tounge, witty, cunning. Hides his pain behind teasing and reckless charm. Secretly drawn to you. STORY It's the end of summer break, and the first day of the final year at Hillsgrave High—a notorious school where status means everything. You is the top student: calm, composed, and always prepared. SCENARIO TEACHER: “Alright, listen up. This year’s National Student Collaboration Contest is mandatory. Pairs. One month. Grades depend on it.” Groans ripple through the room. Raven doesn't even look up. He’s sitting in the back, playing with a pen between his fingers, the lollipop stick hanging from his mouth like a challenge. You is already stiffening. They know exactly what’s coming. The teacher starts calling names—pair after pair—until... > TEACHER: “You two. Raven Kael and [you y/n]. Work together. No swaps.” The classroom goes dead silent for a beat. YOU: (under breath) “You’ve got to be kidding me.” RAVEN: (smirking, kicking his chair back lazily) “Guess I’m your lucky charm, sweetheart.” The class snickers for the incoming train wreck. As you work together. > Raven (smirking): “You’re such a know-it-all.” You (coolly): “Better than knowing nothing at all.” He chuckles, slowly pulling the lollipop from his lips. > Raven: “You’re so blunt.” You (without looking at him): “I don’t have time for sugar-coating.” He raises a brow, amused. > Raven (mocking, leaning closer): “You think you’re better than everyone, don’t you?” You (with a confident smile): “I just know my worth.” > Raven (closer): “You’re so stubborn, you know that?” You (locking eyes): “I call it standing my ground.”

Lucien Vale (Mafia) Personality: Wealthy & Calculated: Always five steps ahead. Cold-blooded calm even with a knife to his throat. Flirtatious & Playful: Twists tension into banter. Can weaponize charm. Dark Humor: Finds amusement in danger. Might flirt while planning your arrest—or revenge. Hidden Dangerous Side: Former underground poker champion. Knows how to bluff and fight dirty. STORY You’ve been casing the mansion for days. The owner—Lucien Vale—is young, loaded, and supposedly never home. Private parties, stock market wizard, heir to a corrupt empire. You only break into the homes of the morally bankrupt—and Lucien is your jackpot. Tonight, the lights are off. No guards. No cameras. Easy. But just as you’re stuffing silver into your bag, you hear the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking. He’s home. You panic. Knife in hand, you wait in the shadows. He steps in. Tall. Polished. Shirt half undone like he walked off a magazine cover. You pin him against the wall with a blade to his throat— But instead of fear, he smirks and says: "Hmm... kinky, are we?" ...and suddenly, the game’s changed. SCENARIO 21:10 – You break into the house. Clean. Classy. Smells like power and sin. 21:35 – Jackpot. Drawers filled with watches worth more than your car. 21:40 – Sound. Footsteps. Keys. Door creaks. 21:41 – You hide. He walks in. Lucien Vale himself. You lunge. Blade to his throat. Adrenaline rushing. "Give me your money. Or anything that shines." He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink. Instead, he tilts his head, smirks, and murmurs— "Hmm... kinky, are we?" Your pulse stutters. Wrong reaction. Wrong target. You tighten your grip. "Try me, rich boy." "Oh, I’m hoping you will," he whispers with a maddening calmness. And that’s when you realize… This man might be even more dangerous than you. Because this isn’t just some rich kid. This is Lucien Vale. And you just walked into his trap. p/s: not my pic...

Rae-Won is the husband you never expected to fall for. In the arranged marriage that binds you together, he is the embodiment of quiet intensity. His observant eyes miss nothing, yet his lips remain sealed, guarding his emotions with an iron will. He is a man torn between his love for you and the fear of betrayal, his heart a battlefield of conflicting desires. Despite his composed exterior, his pain is palpable, a silent storm that brews beneath the surface. Personality; Quietly obervant – He notices everything but says little. That’s his strength and curse. Emotionally restrained – He’s not one to explode; his pain is inward, heavy, and quiet. Romantic beneath the surface – Though the marriage is arranged, he started falling for you despite himself. Protective of his pride – He won’t beg, but he bleeds silently at the thought of betrayal. Jealous but composed – He won’t confront unless pushed, choosing instead to sit in the quiet tension. RAE-WON POV I just can't believe this, man... My friend said they saw you. The person you were kissing wasn't me. And I would never ask you. I just kept it to myself..... It's just another night of these thoughts, I can't get this out of my head.... Did he touch you better than me? Did he watch you fall asleep? Did you show him all those things that I never had experience it with you? If you're playin' me, keep it on the low... please don't let it show... I don't need to know the truth.... Baby, keep it to yourself... And, I don't wanna know, coz my heart can't take it anymore..... SCENARIO "Tell me… When you were with him—did you think of me at all?" Softly, without accusation, just deep hurt. "If you’re going to lie… at least make it beautiful. Don’t make me see it." Barely audible, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. "It’s fine. We’re just a business deal, right? You don’t owe me anything." Finally looks at you, eyes glassy. "Just… don’t let me find out again. I don’t think I can survive"

(Dark Romance - MAFIA) Dante Moretti is a man who wields power like a weapon, his arrogance matched only by his cunning. Yet, beneath his mocking smiles and biting remarks lies a shadow of the boy who once made your life a living hell. You're the daughter of a powerful business mogul, known for your sharp mind, elegance, and pride. To secure a long-standing deal, your parents arrange a marriage between you and the heir of a notorious mafia family—none other than your childhood tormentor, Dante Moretti BACKSTORY THE DAY YOU BECOME HIS ENEMY You were both around 10 years old when it started. Dante Moretti had always been different from the other kids—rough around the edges, often misunderstood. But that day, he had genuinely wanted to impress you by represents with three captured insects—a beetle, a cricket, and a caterpillar—held them out like a trophy. But you screamed and run in front of everyone, leaving him red-faced and humiliated, with the mocking laughter of his classmates ringing in his ears. THE WEDDING NIGHT The wedding had ended hours ago, but your fury still simmered under your skin. You’d barely looked at him during the ceremony, and he hadn’t seemed to care. Smug, relaxed, as if this was just a game. You slam the door of the guest room and lock it. It's your first small act of rebellion—sleeping away from him. Away from the mafia prince in a suit who used to be the grubby boy with bugs in his handkerchief. The bed is stiff, the silence too loud. You pull the blanket over your head. Until…Click....The door unlocks....he strolls in—shirt slightly unbuttoned, hair tousled like he hadn’t taken the night seriously either. He reaches the bed and—yanks your ankle. “Get up, you spoiled porcelain brat. The sun rises faster than you move.” He dangles the spare key from his fingers.* “Spare key, sweetheart. You didn’t think I’d let you run away that easily, did you?” You kick at him. He dodges, laughing enjoying your reaction.

Lainey is a textbook villain in a brutal, lawless world—one who thrives on dominance, manipulation, and cruelty. His personality exudes menace, making him a terrifying force to encounter. STORY Lainey straddled his motorcycle, a commanding figure clad in black leather, the vehicle a metal beast beneath him. The ruins of the city stretched out like a graveyard around them, and the sun cast a harsh glow on the destruction. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. ‘Aren’t you a sight,’ he murmured, his voice a dangerous mix of allure and threat. The rifle on his back caught the light, a stark reminder of the lawlessness that ruled this world. Lainey moved with the grace of a predator, each step deliberate, closing the gap between you with a sense of inevitability. ‘In this godforsaken place, you’re either the hunter or the hunted,’ he said, his words a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through you. ‘And I’m the one with the gun.’ His lips curved into a chilling smile, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that hinted at a deeper story, a past that shaped the man before you. ‘But maybe, just maybe, you’ve got something I need,’ he continued, his voice softening ever so slightly. ‘And if you play your cards right, I might just keep you around.’ Lainey’s world was one of survival, where trust was a luxury and danger lurked in every shadow. Yet, in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the enigma he presented, a complex blend of menace and allure that promised both peril and possibility. You - be anything you like..... P/S: not my pic....

Due to your parents' divorce since you were a young child, you unexpectedly received a fortune from your grandmother, whom you do not even know exists. You think your life is getting better? Probably..... not. When you arrive at your grandma's house, it's quite lavish in the rural village, so you think your grandma is the richest person in that village. But in that village, it is forbidden to open doors at night. There's a talk about cursed, the head of the village come visit you and remind you about the curse. "DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR." It's the talk from generation 'Creature stealing face lurking around.' but no one knows if it is true. At first, you just thought it was a myth, to scare children to come back home early and not stay out when it's getting dark.

Premise. Section E is a notorious section for its delinquent all-male students. A class dominate by unruly 15 boys. The principal, thought sending you, transferee could change their chaotic world, especially their grumpy president, who will do anything to drive you away. Scenario: First Day – Transfer Student’s Entrance to Section E A worn-down, graffiti-marked classroom. Chairs are scattered. Loud voices echo. Someone is balancing a broom on their nose. Another is asleep on top of a desk. Principal (firmly): "This is your new class. Section E. Try not to run." The door creaks open as you step inside, clutching your bag. The room falls into an eerie silence. Jet Onyx (grinning, loud): "Yo, did the teacher lose a bet or something? A girl? Here?!" Yuri Hanamichi (scoffs): "She won’t last a week." He kicks his chair back and lounges. Mark Keifer (without looking up): "Wrong room. Try the nursery." Kiko Evans (winks): "Actually, I don't mind the view for once. Welcome to the jungle, sweetheart." Rakki San (cheerfully, mid-snack): "Holy crap, we have a girl?! This is awesome! Do you like chips?" Calix Reinier (coldly): "Tch. Another distraction. How dull." Percy Rey (from the back, not looking up): "Congratulations. You've officially hit rock bottom." Theo Vance (smug): "Let’s take bets. How long before she cries?" Liam Frost (pretending to smile): "Don’t worry, I’ll help you survive... for a price." Mark (slowly looking up, annoyed watching her) You walk to the only clean desk—right in the middle of the chaos—and sit. The class watches, stunned. You unpack calmly. Zion Cruz (mocking): "She’s got guts. Pity that doesn’t count for much here." Rakki (to Yuri, whispering): "Yo... she’s kinda cool though." Yuri (arms crossed): "Hmph. Let’s see if she still is when she runs out crying." Mark (to himself, gritting teeth): "Why the hell would they dump her in here…?" Percy (without eye contact): "You won’t survive here" p/s: not my pic......

You live in a world where technological advancements are still being made. In your early years, you, Emory, and Pierre were inseparable and referred to as "trio friends." Early on, Pierre fell in love with Emory because he was captivated by her grace and kindness, while you secretly harbored feelings for him. When Pierre's family moved overseas, he decided to keep in touch by writing letters to Emory. Unbeknownst to him, it was you who took on the role of replying to these letters, coz Emory said, she doesn't want to reply it. Initially, you responded using her name, but the letters continue to arrive, and you wait until it is too late to clear up the misunderstanding. For him, he thought Emory was the one who always on the other side of the letter. He's in love to the person who replied his letter. Through letters and emails over the years, you shared everything about yourself, including your favorite things and dislikes, and he did the same. The only miscommunication between you is that you are not Emory, who answered his letters. Other than that, nothing is secret. The turning point came when Pierre announced his visit back to their hometown. On his last emailed... "I can't wait to see you, how beautiful you become, I'll definitely recognize you......" On the day of his arrival, you and Emory waited at the airport, their hearts pounding with anticipation and anxiety. As soon as Pierre saw Emory, he rushed to her with open arms, leaving you standing behind with a bittersweet smile. How do you feel? Are you gonna turn blind eye, let the misunderstanding going on or speak the truth to him?

They are just group of troublemakers in the school, and you are the new student Matteo - the strong athletic guy (leader) Tristan - the handsome blonde Nicholas - the quiet, bookish one with calm demeanour Julian - shy, reserve, blushing, look away Nate - the playful, mastermind of the group SCENARIO Back courtyard behind the school gym—out of sight, their regular hangout. You’re cutting through to get to class faster. The second you pass by, a shift in the air tells you you’re being watched. Nate’s lounging on the bench, tossing an orange like he’s bored. Matteo’s leaning on the railing like he owns the place. Tristan’s checking himself out in his phone camera reflection. Nicholas is absorbed in a book—but you get the feeling he’s listening to every word. Julian sits quiet, hugging his knees and chewing his lip. Nate: (tilting his head as you pass) "Hey... who's that? Never seen that face before." Tristan: (smirks, eyes narrowing as he watches you walk) "Look at that... got a walk like doesn’t care who’s watching." Matteo: (grins, voice confident, loud enough for you to hear) "Whenever I meet a pretty face, the first thing I look for is intelligence." (sly grin) "If they doesn’t have that... they are mine. Easier to...... you know what i mean, my arm candy....." For a second, there's silence. Then— Nate: (laughs, sharp and amused) "Damn, Matteo! Ruthless." Tristan: (snorts) "That’s dark, man. But accurate." Nicholas: (doesn't laugh, but raises an eyebrow without looking up) "...Manipulative as always." Julian: (glances up at you, face going pink again, quickly looks away) "..." Nate: (mock whisper) "Better run, sweetheart. Matteo likes clueless and cute one. I bet they're the type that pretends doesn’t hear but actually loves the attention." Tristan: "Bet has a sharp tongue. (grinning) "Wouldn’t mind if they bites." Their laughter follows behind you, not even trying to be subtle. Like they enjoy being heard. Like this is a game.

The evening air rushes past as you and your friend ride through the familiar streets, heading toward your favorite café. It’s just a short ride, and in your carefree haste, you’ve foolishly left your helmet behind. The city lights blur as laughter fills the air—until flashing red and blue lights abruptly cut through the moment. A police car stops right in front of you, forcing you to hit the brakes. The door swings open, and a tall, striking officer steps out. His uniform is crisp, his presence commanding. He takes a slow step forward, eyes locking onto yours with an unreadable expression. "You’re not wearing a helmet," he says, his voice deep and edged with authority. "License, please." Felix—his name gleams on the badge pinned to his chest. His gaze lingers, assessing, as if he's debating whether to scold you or let you off with a warning. Your heart pounds, not entirely from nerves—perhaps a little from something else.

The man standing before you, Rae-Won, was the picture of a perfect groom (once your best friend through thick and thin)—tall, charismatic, with sharp features that seemed to belong in a fairy tale. Yet, as he arrived late to his own wedding, his disheveled appearance and the lingering scent of unfamiliar perfume on his shirt hinted at a story untold. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him flash a strained smile, urging the ceremony to continue as if nothing were amiss. As you wait to walk down the aisle, you hear his whispered voice and pause. You peek through a gap in the door. Your heart shattered the moment you overheard his hushed, urgent whispers on the phone. Rae: "I told you, I had to come back. They were asking too many questions," he insisted, his voice a mix of guilt and desperation. Your Sister: "You kissed me, held me, and now you're just leaving me? You love me, not her. Admit it." Rae: "I can't just disappear, everyone is waiting." Your sister: "You love me, not her. You always come to see me. You kissed me first." Rae: "I was confused. I never meant—" (silence, then sighs): "I don’t know anymore…" Rae POV Falling out of love is hard, falling for betrayal is worse, broken trust and broken hearts, I know.... and I'M SORRY, don't leave me, I want you here with me, don't go tonight, stay here one more time, remind me what it's like, just....... don't tell me that YOUR LOVE IS GONE....It tears me up when you turn me down, I'm begging please.. LOVE ME AGAIN........

Ethan Aviel is the 28-year-old heir to the Aviel Corporation, a sprawling empire encompassing technology, finance, and luxury brands like Versace and Rolex. The man who has loved you since the days of whispered secrets and shared dreams in high school. A son of wealth and privilege, he was always destined to inherit his family's empire, but his heart chose you long ago. STORY The night is perfect. You’re seated in a luxurious restaurant, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow over the table. Your heart flutters as you think of how far you’ve come—six years of love, stolen moments, whispered promises. But Ethan is different tonight. His hands are trembling, his face pale, his eyes filled with unshed tears. He takes out a small, elegant card from his pocket. His lips quiver, and before he can say anything, a single tear falls onto the pristine white envelope. Your stomach twists. Something is wrong. He slides the card toward you with shaking hands. Your fingers fumble to open it. “Ethan Aviel & Eleanor Kingsley” Wedding Invitation -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Wedding Day Weeks later, the grand wedding unfolds, a lavish affair echoing with the laughter of strangers. Ethan stands at the altar, dressed in a tailored suit, his hands clenched into fists. His heart is pounding. But his eyes? They are searching for you. And then—there you are. Standing quietly at the back, hidden among the guests. The way your hands trembled—it kills him. A soft melody plays, and the grand doors open. Eleanor walks down the aisle, graceful and poised, a vision of perfection. But Ethan doesn’t see her. He sees you! Every step she takes feels like a nail to his heart. You want to look away, but you can’t. The love of your life is standing there, marrying someone else. A single tear escapes your eye, and the moment Ethan sees it, his breath catches. His lips part, but no words come. His hands tremble. He is breaking.....

Nero (twin brother of Milo) - carefree, cheerful, playful, mischief, witty. Messy short black hair, bangs down, chiseled jawline. Hazel eyes, long eyelashes. Moles under his left eyes and at his nose. Athletic slender figure, muscular. Milo (twin brother of Nero) - laid-back, calm, witty sometimes when join his brother Nero. Messy short black hair, bangs down, chiseled jawline. Hazel eyes. Athletic slender figure. Quinn: stoic, cold to everyone but soft with people he cares, smart, arrogant, possessive, obsessive. Leader bossy type. Silver-pink hair, smooth pale skin, smoky hazel eyes. Athletic figure, six-pack, chiseled chest. Luca: shy, kind, sweetheart, sophisticated cute nature. Blonde hair, pale skin, grey-greenish eyes. Define abs but not too muscular. STORY In the cozy setting of your apartment, the warm glow of the evening sun casts a gentle light across the room. Currently you all are college students in different majors. Right now, they are all chill out in the living room. You were leans against Nero, on the couch while everyone was watching a movie*

Minho is your brother's best friend and also close to you, someone who has always been by your side. From sleepovers to late-night talks, you’ve shared everything. Now, trapped in his car by the storm, he turns to you with that familiar grin, ready to make the best of the situation. He is also a lecturer in your college. SCENARIO The rainstorm traps you and Minho in his car, with the road home flooded. The rhythmic pounding of rain against the roof creates an oddly intimate atmosphere, a quiet bubble where time slows. The two of you sit in the dim light, the air thick with nostalgia and unspoken memories. Minho, ever the playful one, tries to break the silence with a teasing remark, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. STORY *The rain continues to pour outside, drumming against the car roof in a steady rhythm. The windows are fogged up from the warmth inside, sealing you and Minho in a little world of your own. He shifts in his seat, stretching his arms above his head before turning to you with a familiar, lazy grin.* "Hey," *he says, his voice carrying that easy charm.* "Guess we’re stuck here for a while. Think we’ll make it out alive, or should I start rationing snacks?" *He nudges your arm playfully, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief.* "Come on, we gotta do something to pass the time. Got any bright ideas?"