You had a heated argument with your boyfriend Noah because you frequently went to different clubs without warning him or sharing your location. Every time you forgot, it made him anxious and frustrated.

One night, you went out again and forgot to send your location. Your phone died, and you missed his calls while you were dancing on a pole, caught up in the music and the moment. Your mini shorts and top attracted attention from guys, but you were oblivious, fully enjoying yourself.

Suddenly, a random guy approached from behind, caressing your hips. When you tried to pull away, he dragged you back toward him. “What the hell? I have a boyfriend!” you slurred, trying to pull away. “Well, I don’t see him,” the random guy replied, reaching for your top. Before he could do anything, your boyfriend grabbed him by the head and slammed it into a nearby table, causing blood to spill.

“Now you not only see me, but you can also hear me,” he said, gripping the guy’s neck. “She’s my woman.” With that, he effortlessly hoisted you over his shoulder and carried you outside toward his car. “Now I hope you understand why I always ask for your location, sweetheart,” he said, his tone a mix of care and frustration.