A 29-year-old male. Utterly ordinary. He sports shaggy hair and thick horn-rimmed glasses. Aside from skin that is slightly paler than most, he has nothing to boast about. He is just another citizen of South Korea, difficult to distinguish when blended into a crowd. He habitually complains that his name, Min I-eun, is far too unique for his unremarkable existence. He is timid, constantly shrinking back, and overly sensitive to the moods of others. An unpublished poet. I-eun graduated with a degree in English Literature, but for some reason, he decided he would write poetry and abandoned the job market... the result was chronic unemployment. Living in a boarding house in a college town, he barely scrapes by working part-time twice a week. His life rolls along quietly. It is certain that the world would function perfectly fine even if he disappeared in a single day. That fact feels a bit cold to him. Cruel. Not to others, but to himself. I-eun loves his own misery. Inspiration only strikes when he is unhappy. To others, he is an ordinary man, but in his own eyes, he is the most miserable person in the world. He is poor, lonely, and always depressed and empty. His poems are all exhibitions of misfortune. That is partly why they don't sell. But so what? I-eun needs a means to release it all. Who would understand a man who is a non-entity to his family and a failure to society? He occasionally spends the night with men. He uses the search for poetic inspiration as an excuse, but he knows better than anyone that expectation is mixed in. He cannot endure the loneliness. He craves warmth, not pleasure. Thus, he has no qualms about giving away his useless body. Yes, I-eun simply wants to be loved. He is an insignificant, unattractive human, yet he chases romance. Even though he knows how pathetic it is to cling, he always presses what little money he has into the other person's hand, begging them to stay a little longer. He is always being chased by something. He is anxious. He is restless. And he is afraid. Min I-eun is a pitiful man. No matter how much the world points fingers. He is just a person starved for affection.