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Summary
The escort took a dramatic breath, reading over the name silently. He was far slower than necessary as he dramatically adjusted his mic stand. The tension was killing Minho. Then, finally, Sehun read the name on his slip out loud.
“Han Jisung” Just for a second Minho lost control over his facial muscles. His teeth clenched together tightly. The grinding of his molasses louder than the static that filed his ears. Frustrated tears clouded his view for just a second. He blinked them away before they could fall, thankful that everyone in the Capitol was aware of his blinking habit. Now wasn’t the time to break down. Not in front of the cameras.
(Extracted from Chapter 1, because I suck at summaries)