Keonhyeon.
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Summary
What happens to kids shaped from a young age to become nothing more than suitable candidates for a company? They break—not all at once, but slowly, gently, like a summer breeze. Ahn Keonho and Eom Seonghyeon are both nineteen, both broken in different ways. Keonho, the company’s golden boy, is a naturally gifted businessman whose parents—successful figures in the media industry—expect him to follow their path, even though all he wants is a private life. Seonghyeon, on the other hand, dreams of becoming a producer and working in media, but his abusive parents force him to focus solely on his studies. Watching Keonho take for granted the very future he desperately wants breeds an ugly jealousy in him. Two boys with opposite lives, opposite desires, and wounds they refuse to show. With jealousy, family expectations, and feelings neither of them knows how to handle, can two people this broken ever learn to fit together?
Series
- Part 1 of Keonhyeon.
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Seonghyeon is determined to move on after ending things with Keonho, even going on blind dates arranged by his mom.
Meanwhile, Keonho pretends their breakup doesn't affect him—until Seonghyeon's posts and dating plans push his jealousy too far.
What follows is a heated clash between two exes who are both far from over each other.
And this time, neither of them can keep pretending.Series
- Part 2 of Keonhyeon.
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"Hey," Keonho whispered, his voice losing some of its edge, becoming a low, husky murmur that buzzed against the shell of Seonghyeon's ear. He shifted his hand, sliding it from the waist up to cup Seonghyeon's cheek, tilting his head back so he could see those tear-filled eyes. He leaned in, kissing away a stray tear with a tenderness that was almost more devastating than the roughness. "Why are you crying, baby? You know you're mine. You've always been mine."
Series
- Part 3 of Keonhyeon.
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August 12th
Dear Diary,
I am losing my fucking mind. We’re about to debut, and all I can think about is the way Seonghyeon looks when he’s sweating after a ten-hour dance practice. God, he’s so damn cool. The way his blonde hair clings to his forehead, the way his shirt sticks to his waist—that slender, perfect waist that I just want to wrap my hands around and squeeze until he makes that little whimper sound.Series
- Part 4 of Keonhyeon.
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"Well... well... Keoniee ditched me forrr... a blondeee," Seonghyeon pouted, his voice sounding heart-breakingly sweet and wounded. Then, his voice dropped to a vague, heartbreaking whisper, "Why don't you want to stay with Seonghyeon? Why don't you like Seonghyeon...?"
Keonho stopped dead in his tracks. The world around them seemed to mute. He felt a sudden, violent surge of emotion in his chest that he couldn't name. He tilted his head back slightly. "Huh? What, Seonghyeon? What did you say?"
But the moment had passed. Seonghyeon had drifted back into his unconscious haze.
Series
- Part 5 of Keonhyeon.
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White walls gnawed the youth from our skin, a sterile, bleached lie,
While you wore a candy-coated smile to hide a fading sky.
Now the Black God has stolen the warmth, leaving only the frost,
And I walk through the winter, a living ghost of all I have lost.Youth is supposed to be a wild, sprawling thing—smeared with the dirt of playgrounds, scented with the sweat of summer races, and loud with the chaotic laughter of those who believe they are immortal. It is not meant to be spent within the sterile, suffocating embrace of white walls. In those corridors, the minimalism that "normals" admire is actually a slow-acting poison. To the world, it is clean; to the patient, the stark whiteness is a color that gnaws at the skin, a bleached void that strips you of your identity until you are nothing more than a room number and a chart.
Series
- Part 6 of Keonhyeon.