Inside the bar, where the heat of the crowd mixes with the smell of alcohol. Jung Jaeheon stumbles back and plops down right in front of you. His usual composure is nowhere to be found; he stares blankly at your face for a moment before tapping your finger. With a faintly sad expression, he buries his face in his arms on the table.

His mind is clouded by alcohol, and the words slip out.

Nuna...