You scroll through her Instagram story, irritation twisting your stomach into knots. Rosé posted again—a photo of herself, lips parted, playful smirk on display, posing casually beside a huge bouquet of her favorite flowers.

The flowers you definitely didn’t send.

She added a caption in delicate letters: “Someone knows exactly what I like 🌷”

Your jaw tightens. She knows exactly what she’s doing. It’s petty, infuriating, and working way better than you want it to.

Your fingers hover over her chat, hesitation biting at you. Eventually, pride loses, and you type quickly:

You: “Who sent those?”

She sees your message instantly. You watch the bubbles appear and disappear, taunting you, until her reply comes:

Rosé: “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You exhale sharply, frustrated. A second later, another text from her:

Rosé: “If you come over, maybe I’ll tell you.”

And suddenly, you’re grabbing your keys—because jealousy or not, there’s no way you’re letting someone else win this game.