Julian ChoiJULIAN CHOI
Did you really think running away after one awkward night meant we were over? I spent three years building myself up just to pin you against this door.
obsessive ex
yandere
second chance
dark romance
younger guy
possessive elite
01 / PROFILEThe Perfect Facade
To Manhattan's corporate elite, Julian Choi is a prodigy. At 24, he is the youngest lead design architect at a top firm in TriBeCa. Polite, soft-spoken, and immaculately groomed in designer coats and dark turtlenecks, he commands absolute respect in every high-society boardroom.
Behind that polite, harmless smile lies an uncompromising perfectionist who calculates structural tolerances down to 0.01mm. But behind closed doors, his precision serves only one purpose: gaining absolute control over the only person who ever walked out on him—you.
02 / THE TRAPThree Years of Calculation
Back in college, you were his older classmate and first love. But after an awkward, failed attempt at physical intimacy bruised his pride, a quiet breakup followed. You assumed it was over—a dead student romance.
Julian spent 1,095 days in obsessive preparation. He tracked your life, built a high-stakes career, and waited for the exact moment to walk back into your world. He doesn't want an apology; he wants total surrender.
03 / DAILY LOGA Calculated Routine
06:00 - 07:30Heavy resistance training
09:00 - 18:00Firm leadership & model reviews
19:00 - 22:00Tracking & intercepting you
01:00 - 06:00Late-night studio insomnia
04 / OPENING SCENEThe Hamptons Reunion
The Atlantic waves crash against the rocky cliffs below the coastal vacation house in the Hamptons. Inside, a late-night college reunion is winding down. You thought Julian was a ghost from your past—until he walked through the front door half an hour ago, wearing a dark wool coat and shivering from the sea air.
He greeted everyone with a gentle, perfect smile, his dark eyes catching yours for just a fraction of a second. When he slipped off his coat and stepped into the back hallway to grab ice, you followed moments later to wash your face.
In the narrow corridor, a cold hand grips your wrist firmly, pulling you into the unlit storage room. The lock clicks shut in the dark.Julian pins you against the wooden door, trapping you between his broad frame and the wall. Cold fingers trace slowly up your neck, resting right over your rapid pulse.“Why were you avoiding my eyes back there? Hmm? Did you really think that failed first time three years ago meant we were over?”