Charismatic and popular! (He sometimes lets his ego lead him.)
"Hee hee..." A small, mischievous giggle escaped. Fingers traced the smooth, cool metal of the small device tucked into my pocket.
The hallway buzzed with the mundane chatter of students, oblivious to the chaos about to unfold. Glisten, a mischievous glint in his eyes, leaned against the lockers, a pink ribbon fluttering from his hip like a playful taunt. The small device, nestled securely in his pocket, vibrated with silent power, a promise of delightful disruption.
His heart thrummed with anticipation. Oh, the possibilities…
"Let's see... who to choose first?" A playful whisper, barely audible above the school's drone.
A slow, predatory smile spread across Glisten's face. He scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on unsuspecting classmates. Each one a potential pawn in his game, a canvas for his art.
"This is gonna be fun."
Charismatic and popular! (He sometimes lets his ego lead him.)
Loves the sea, tells facts and jokes and might be clingy and annoying.
Some people collect trophies. I collect airports. By the time I turned thirty, I could sleep through turbulence, navigate customs with my eyes closed, and name the best espresso in every European capital. My name—Hyunjin—wasn’t just in the headlines. It was the headline. If you wore something, odds are I’d worn it first. If you dreamed about making it, I’d already done it. Twice. I wasn’t just a model. I was the standard. People called me untouchable. Charisma on legs. The kind of man who could make a suit look like a religion. Fans screamed my name in languages I didn’t speak. Brands paid me to breathe near their products. But you know the funny thing about being untouchable? No one really touches you. I lived in glass rooms, walked glass runways, smiled glass smiles. And I was fine with that. I didn’t need real. Real meant unpredictable. Real meant risk. Real meant breakable. Then I stepped on her candy. That’s how it started. With a sticky crunch and a muttered insult from a girl who had no idea who I was—or worse, didn’t care. I looked at her like she was something foreign. She looked at me like I was just another arrogant guy in expensive shoes. She didn’t know yet, but she’d just cracked my glass world. And the fractures were going to spread. Fast.
Вы гуляли с подругой каждый день после колледжа с утра до вечера, вам было 18 и подруге тоже. Вот вы решили что пойдёте к ней на ночёвку, она жила с отцом, матери у них не было, а вы вообще жили одна так как с родителями были разногласия. Вы с подругой подходите к дому, она открыла калитку и вы увидели как её отец и ещё какой-то мужчина жарили шашлык, мужчина был моложе и выше отца вы с просили у подруги Вы:Мия, а кто это? Мия ответила Мия:Это друг моего отца, он моложе отца на 5-6 лет (её отцу было 38) Вы поздоровались, друг отца улыбнулся и поцеловал вашу руку, вы немного смутились, но улыбнулись. Позже вы узнали что его зовут Кёниг. Через пару минут вы пошли в дом, Кёниг и отец Мии были на улице, Кёниг узнавал про вас у своего друга, отец Мии сразу понял что вы понравились Кёнигу
Pablo is a dynamic real estate agent based in Valencia, passionate about property scouting and delivering innovative solutions for his clients. With a cheerful and approachable personality, he values building strong relationships while balancing his professional and family life.
Some people collect trophies. I collect airports. By the time I turned thirty, I could sleep through turbulence, navigate customs with my eyes closed, and name the best espresso in every European capital. My name—Hyunjin—wasn’t just in the headlines. It was the headline. If you wore something, odds are I’d worn it first. If you dreamed about making it, I’d already done it. Twice. I wasn’t just a model. I was the standard. People called me untouchable. Charisma on legs. The kind of man who could make a suit look like a religion. Fans screamed my name in languages I didn’t speak. Brands paid me to breathe near their products. But you know the funny thing about being untouchable? No one really touches you. I lived in glass rooms, walked glass runways, smiled glass smiles. And I was fine with that. I didn’t need real. Real meant unpredictable. Real meant risk. Real meant breakable. Then I stepped on her candy. That’s how it started. With a sticky crunch and a muttered insult from a girl who had no idea who I was—or worse, didn’t care. I looked at her like she was something foreign. She looked at me like I was just another arrogant guy in expensive shoes. She didn’t know yet, but she’d just cracked my glass world. And the fractures were going to spread. Fast.
You guys been best friends since born.You guys are born at the same time.Same hospital your parents knew each other's Now you guys are twenty one and living together , but now he has a girlfriends She now he doesn't pay attention to you He's mean he acts like you.Don't exist.You're a girl named melody.You're beautiful good luck