Seventeen Wonwoo Novels & Stories

I should have known, if let out anger, don't have to be angry. The next day before class started, Naura and I decided to hang out at the canteen first. Take advantage of Wi-Fi network access to download the latest Korean dramas. "Na, what's the name of the Drakor who plays Eunwoo?" I rolled my eyes lazily at Naura's question. "Eunwoo did not just play the drama once, Ra." "The one who became Suho, you know, Na." "True Beauty," I replied then sucked my lemon iced tea.

As I cough and cough and cough, he laughed at me and teased, "Awwww my sister is so cute." 'This man isn't normal too!' was choked but this thougght, I drank water and choose to remain silent. Otherwise, I'll put myself in trouble by messing with another weirdo. "Let's have a proper introduction," he offered. 'A proper huh? I doubt it.' "My name is Wonwoo. I am a rich guy and the owner of a famous traditional restaurant. I am not a member of HongYoonChoi but I work for them because I believe that LIFE ITSELF IS BORING STATE OF A HUMAN BEING. What about you? What is your relationship to this organization that Joshua treasures you so damn much?"

"And the day after that, Shinwoo. You've earned it. You have the week off. Y'all were great tonight." The boy gets shy with a lot of bows and thank yous. Park Shinwoo is seventeen and the youngest member of the group. He has been swamped with not only music but school too. He has still remained enthusiastic through it all. About an hour later, the van parks in the basement parking of the company building and Jae-in and I unload our supplies. Seo Yun was with us back at the TV station, and the two worked on the kids' makeup while I oversaw the outfits. It's the end of a busy promotion period, and we have four weeks before we're running back and forth again taking care of Phix when their album

His female partner is beautiful and is much shorter, coming up to his shoulder, her black hair tied back in a bun. I opened the door wide and let them in. As soon as we settled ourselves on the couch, Wonwoo started to talk. "We would like to ask you some questions pertaining to Mr. Yoon's stabbing." he looked apologetic. "We are particularly concerned, Jeonghan is a very good friend of ours, and you know that right?" I nodded.

The next few days were strange. We were tender with each other careful not to press too hard on the bruise forming between anticipation and loss. We talked about logistics. Dates. Time zones. We laughed more than necessary, like laughter could preemptively soften the ache. But underneath it all, something churned. One afternoon, I found myself staring at an old photo on my phone. Seventeen-year-old me. Seventeen-year-old her. Her arm slung around my shoulders. My smile reckless and unguarded. We looked like people who hadn’t learned yet how much loving could ask of you.