Episode 1: The Empty Room

Jang Woonyeong's Pov

I adjusted my hair, the black strands with subtle brown highlights falling just right over my forehead. At 19, I knew I looked put-together

—smart, talented, the kind of guy who could ace any exam without breaking a sweat. But appearances only got you so far.

I was extroverted, friendly, always flashing a smile to anyone who passed by in the hallways of this sprawling university campus. Yet, here I was, alone in a room I'd reserved for my "study group."It wasn't really about studying. Sure, I was top of my class in literature and math, but the real reason?

Connections. Friends. Real ones, not the superficial nods from classmates who thought I was "weird" because I talked too much about books or dreamed too big about post-grad life.

I had a few close acquaintances—people I'd chat with in lectures

—but no one who'd stick around for late-night talks or shared secrets. It didn't crush me; my confidence was my armor. So, I posted: Join Jang Woonyeong's Study Group! Ace your exams and make friends along the way! Meetings every Tuesday in Room 204.

That was two weeks ago. Today was the third session, and the room was as empty as my inbox. No one had signed up, not even a curious peek through the door.

I sat at the head of the long table, surrounded by neatly stacked textbooks and a whiteboard scribbled with potential discussion topics. The clock ticked past 4 PM, the golden afternoon light filtering through the windows, mocking my solitude.

My shoulders slumped. For the first time, the confidence cracked. What's wrong with me? I thought, staring at my reflection in the darkened phone screen. Am I really that off-putting? Hope flickered out like a snuffed candle.

Maybe it was time to call it quits. Pack up, go back to my dorm, and pretend this never happened

.Choi Taemin's POV

I leaned against the wall outside Room 204,— as I scanned the flyer one more time. Not the sharpest tool in the academic shed, but I had common sense.

At 19, I kept things calm, letting the world roll by without much fuss. Cocky? Maybe a little, especially when people underestimated me.

Open-minded, though—that was my edge. I didn't chase crowds or grades; I went where curiosity led.The hallways were buzzing with students rushing to clubs or cafes, but something about this flyer caught me. Study group? I wasn't desperate for help—my grades were passable—but the "make friends" part? Intriguing.

I'd seen the guy around: Jang Woonyeong, the energetic one with the long hair and endless enthusiasm. He seemed genuine, not like the fake extroverts who drained you. And honestly, my social circle was as thin as his probably was. Why not? Pushing off the wall, I straightened my jacket and stepped inside.

The room was dead silent, save for the soft rustle of pages. There he was, alone at the table, looking smaller than his reputation suggested. His eyes lifted, surprise flashing across his face.

Jang Woonyeong's Pov

The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped. In walked a guy I recognized vaguely from my economics class—Choi Taemin, right? Brown curtain mullet, calm vibe, like he owned the room without trying. He had that cocky tilt to his smile, but it wasn't off-putting.

More like... intriguing."Uh, hi," I said, straightening up too quickly, my voice brighter than I felt. "You here for the study group?"He nodded, sliding into a chair across from me without hesitation.

"Yeah. I saw the flyer. I'd like to join."My eyes sparked—literally, I could feel the warmth rush back into my chest. Hope, reignited. Just like that. One person. But it was a start. A real connection, maybe?

Choi Taemin's POV

His face lit up, that extroverted energy snapping back like a rubber band. It was almost cute, the way his confidence bloomed right there. "Cool," I replied, leaning back casually. "What're we studying first? I'm not a genius, but I've got common sense.

"As he launched into an explanation—something about literature analysis—I watched him, open-minded as always. This could be interesting. The empty room didn't feel so empty anymore. Little did I know, this was just the spark of something slower, softer. Our story beginning, one awkward conversation at a time.

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