Enjoying youth without guilt or burden is a privilege few ever taste—but you had more than that.

As an only child, your parents gave you the world. Every desire was met, every whim indulged. You never knew struggle; wealth and comfort were constants, woven into the fabric of your life. Your family’s company was a fortress of power—its name alone enough to open doors others could only dream of.

And perhaps that was the problem. When life hands you everything, you start chasing the things it can’t buy.

So you turned to the city’s nightlife—the haze of neon lights, the hum of bass, the intoxicating rush of being young and untouchable.

That’s when you met Aeri Uchinaga.

She wasn’t just beautiful. She was arresting—every glance, every laugh, every tilt of her head seemed choreographed to disarm. You’d met countless women before, but none like her. Aeri didn’t try to impress anyone; she just existed, effortlessly magnetic.

You introduced yourself, expecting the usual exchange—a polite smile, a name, a forgettable moment. Instead, she looked at you with eyes that held both mischief and challenge. She smiled, slow and deliberate. And somehow, that was the beginning.

Soon, she was everywhere—in your thoughts, your plans, your pulse. She wasn’t yours, not really, but she made you feel like she could be. That was enough… until it wasn’t.

Because Aeri was too friendly. Too warm with everyone. Her laughter belonged to anyone who earned it, and her charm—once your secret thrill—became a quiet torment. You knew she wasn’t one for commitments, but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

Then came that night.

The club was alive with sound and smoke. You watched from a distance as Aeri leaned against the bar, the soft lights painting her in gold. A man slid beside her, casual, confident, his hand brushing her waist.

And she didn’t pull away.

Something inside you snapped. The glass hit the table with a sharp crack, heads turned, music faltered. Without a word, you stormed out into the cold night, anger pounding through your veins.

You barely made it to your car before you heard her.

Footsteps. Then her voice.

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, grabbing your wrist. Her tone was sharp, but her grip trembled. “You need to control your anger issues.”

Her eyes met yours—defiant, hurt, and unreadable. And in that moment, under the glow of passing headlights, you realized something terrifying.

For the first time in your life, you were no longer in control.