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Basic information.

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𝖥𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 : kang minjae.

𝖭𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 : jay, jett.

𝖠𝗀𝖾 : 21+.

𝖣𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁 : march 27.

𝖲𝗍𝖺𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇 : aries.

𝖲𝖾𝗑 : male.

𝖦𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 : male

𝖯𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗌 : he/him.

𝖲𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 : bisexual.

𝖯𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖻𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗁 : ulsan.

𝖭𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 : south korean.

𝖱𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗈𝗇 : agnostic.

𝖮𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 : college student.

𝖮𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 : the kind of person you notice without him saying anything. other than his striking appearance, people notice his aura. the quiet chaos to him that hums just beneath his skin. he sports confidence like a worn leather jacket. it’s cool and familiar, but the seams are tearing. as if he’s moments away from unraveling. he’s sharp in every sense: sharp witted, sharp tongued, sharp eyed. he reads people the way you’d read a book. slowly. thoroughly. tearing out page after page until he finds what hurts. it’s not out of malice…more out of curiosity. maybe more out of survival. he learned at a young age that knowing someone’s soft spots doesn’t obligate you to share your own.

he’s undeniably magnetic, in a way that feels dangerous. like listening to a song that you know will end badly, but you keep pressing repeat anyways. he hooks people with his lazy smile and easy laugh. he reels them in until they ask for more. intimacy is a game of chicken. the one who flinches first. the one who leaves first. it’s always been him. he hides quiet desperation behind cigarette smoke and deflecting smirks. he doesn’t trust easily. and it’s not because he thinks he’s above it, but because he desires too much. he craves to be understood, to be chosen, to be loved. he’ll purposefully break hearts just to see who stays.

he’s a fiercely intelligent individual. there’s always something calculating behind his eyes. he’s the kind to ace a class without trying, but usually ends up failing because he doesn’t apply himself. he got into college on a last minute scholarship and sheer luck. after couch surfing and stealing most of his teenage years, college life didn’t seem all too bad. after all, music is the only thing that he treats like it matters. he keeps a notebook full of lyrics he never shared. he burns the pages when he’s upset, his scrappy notebooks singed and torn.

he sleeps in other peoples beds more than his own. minjae doesn’t ever answer texts asking for second dates. he always leaves the second someone asks him to stay. his ‘I love yous’ are more a weapon than a truth, a method of slicing people open to see what’s inside. to poke and prod. to find what hurts just to leave them behind. he’s become a master of preemptive heartbreaks.

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original source could not be found

Appearance.

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𝖧𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 : 5’ 10” or 178cm.

𝖶𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 : 126 lbs.

𝖡𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗒𝗉𝖾 : ectomorph.

𝖡𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾 : slim and lean.

𝖥𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗉𝖾 : oval.

𝖤𝗒𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗋 : chocolate

𝖧𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗋 : varies.

𝖧𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗒𝗅𝖾 : typically shoulder length and layered.

𝖲𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗋 : ivory.

𝖲𝗄𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗅𝖺𝗐𝗌 : a few small moles scatter his face.

𝖮𝗏𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖺𝗋𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 : minjae is a study of contrasts. he has sharp cheekbones carved into smooth skin, a strong jawline with just enough softness that it hints at vulnerability. his eyes are dark and luminous, the color of midnight, with depths that swallowed the light, holding quiet storms and whispered secrets beneath their glossy surface. his hair is tousled, falling naturally in gentle waves. it’s gone through a variety of colors, but it’s currently dyed black. his figure is lean, athletic despite having zero interest in sports. he has smudged eyeliner he doesn’t bother to clean off, chipped nail polish, sports leather jackets over vintage shirts. his lips, always pulled into a charmed, crooked smile, is adorned with a lip ring. he tucks a cigarette behind his ear, even in class. his scent is poignant, like smoke and sweet liquor and bad decisions. often wears a locket necklace without a picture, saying he’ll put “someone who’s worth it into it.”

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image credit to xdinary heroes instagram

History.

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𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 : abandonment, childhood trauma

minjae never talks about his past. when people inquire, he just shrugs it off with a grin and some half-assed story about how he grew up ‘just fine.’ but the truth clings to him like the scent of his cigarettes—never spoken, but always there.

minjae was born to a woman who didn’t want to be a mother and a man who didn’t stay long enough to matter to him. many of his earliest memories are of shabby apartments and loud arguments, a stranger in his own home. he learned valuable lessons from his mother: love came with , and affection was currency. it wasn’t something given, but it was something to be earned. and often times, minjae wasn’t good enough.

when he was eight, his mother left him at the police station. she gave him no dramatic goodbye. not even a notion that she was regretful. there was no explanation. the only things he had was a bag of clothes, his mothers lighter, and a sealed envelope with his name on it. minjae never opened the damn thing. its corners are singed from the amount of times he’d tried to burn it, but never had the heart to commit.

he surfed through foster homes. some cruel. some kind. when he was a teenager, he couch surfed at ‘friends’ houses, avoiding even the nicest foster families. they never really cared…they just wanted the paycheck that came in the mail.

in high school, minjae began acting out. he wasn’t violent, but misbehaved enough to scare people away before they got too close. he kissed boys to feel something and girls to feel nothing. he’d burn bridges with his lighter before anybody ever had the chance to walk across them. music, cigarettes, and late nights made the pain easier to bear.

now a college student, he’s majoring in music theory because it’s the only language that he trusts not to lie. professors think he’s smart. his classmates think he’s an asshole, and the others think he’s pretty. he thinks they’re all probably right, especially being pretty.

he still doesn’t believe in love. he sits alone, flicking open his mom’s lighter, her initials etched into the muddied chrome. it’s turning by a brass color where he thumbs the corner. despite his disbelief in it, he wants love. craves it. doesn’t know exactly what he’d do if someone really offered it to him. he’s waiting for someone to prove they’ll stay, even after they witness the wreckage.

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#feco