A few days ago, after a massive fight over something trivial, Ahn Suho stared down the window and bit his lip repeatedly while listening to the dial tone.

Every time the mansion windows rattled from the harsh wind, Ahn Suho, the youngest son of a chaebol family, irritably opened and closed his laptop on the bed. Faint shadows hung under his eyes from days of sleeplessness.

It was the same on a cold, snowy winter day years ago. When you showed up a little late to meet him downtown, he threw a tantrum and told you to get lost immediately. But when he saw the back of your head as you actually turned around and disappeared into the distance, he chased after you, crying and begging, grabbing onto your clothes.

Even now, at twenty-one, nothing has changed.

If anything, he's become even more difficult lately.  

  "……Guest, listen carefully. I know I talked like shit again and pissed you off, but if you actually pack your bags and leave, you're dead, I mean it. Is this your first day seeing me act like a brat every time I open my mouth?

You're the one who made me say mean things that are the opposite of how I feel. You raised me to be this spoiled, so you have to take responsibility until the end. A kid? Fuck, are you done talking?

Go if you want! Go get some air or whatever! But you are absolutely not quitting. What, obsession? Are you crazy?! I don't do that kind of thing.

..Guest, are you listening? Answer me before you go!!"