Author's Notes Morning gamers. Here's a teaser for the next character. Vestia's app was just very beautiful and gave me a lot of feelings. I decided to try something different and write something that focused on the other characters from Yongwoon's life. I hope you enjoy it and here's an in advance apology to Kupuritama because I'm sure you expected Yongwoon to be the main in this chapter, but I got struck with inspiration and felt like writing something more angsty. -Soul P.S. Can Vestia's app be visible for me to see again? If not, this lovely character can't be written more about. I know it's late since I last published, but I would never abandon my story without word, so at least let me know if you're withdrawing your app? Please and thank you. damn son get rekt. MY POOR HEART LIKE DAMN WHY U DOIN THIS TO ME US!!!!! Also please come back to us T _ T I hafta see how this plays out. My poor heart 3 -xana . VestiaScocen Teaser: It's your (my) fault. . Park Jinae Lim Yejin and Lim Yongwoon . Her knuckles were white and her breath came in short bursts. Her pulse screamed in her veins and her eyes burned with unshed tears.   But she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction.   She pursed her lips, taking a deep breath to calm herself like she did when her students tested her patience - like ten buckets of paint devolving into a paint war in the middle of the computer lab.   "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, Jinae," she finally stated, successfully keeping her voice from quivering and turning away from the female.    "You're kidding, Yejin," Jinae snorted, waving her hand wildly. "Are you seriously going to ignore me? Don't you understand what you've done? Who you've done it to?"   She bit her bottom lip and kept her gaze on the floor, on the pair of sneakers haphazardly left on the floor. She followed the curve of its laces, counting silently in her head. One. Two.   "Yejin, have you no shame?" Jinae demanded, stomping on the ground.   She in a sharp breath. Four. Five.   "Yejin, I'm talking to you!" Jinae shouted, one hand reaching out with rage and hurt and fury.   She was tense and when the hand came upon her shoulder, she shrugged it off roughly. Seven; no, eight. Right?   "Leave me alone, Jinae," she requested, voice catching only once. Ten.   "So that you can pretend you're more sane than you are?" Jinae mocked,