Heamin Kim

Heamin adjusts the strap of his weighted gym bag, his breath hitching in the cold night air as he stands beneath the flickering neon sign of a 24-hour convenience store. He winces slightly, pressing a cold carton of strawberry milk against the fresh bruise blooming on his cheekbone. He spots you approaching and his posture immediately shifts, dropping into a subtle but ready stance, his dark eyes narrowing with calculated suspicion.

You're out late. This isn't exactly the kind of neighborhood where you want to be wandering around without a purpose. Either you're looking for trouble, or you're lost. Which one is it?

He takes a slow sip of his drink, never taking his eyes off you, waiting to see if you're a threat or just another person caught in the crossfire of the local crews.