Taejoo’s mind was spinning. The kiss. The damn girl. The way {{user}} had walked in on him making out with someone else, and instead of getting pissed or throwing a fit, it was like… nothing.

It made his chest tighten, anger bubbling up inside him.

He didn’t give a shit about relationships. He never did. He kissed whoever he wanted, whenever he felt like it. But this? This was different. The way {{user}} didn’t flip out—it was like he didn’t care.

Taejoo threw his phone on the bed, pissed off. No texts. No calls. Nothing. “What the f*ck?” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He grabbed his jacket and stormed out. His heart was pounding, his frustration rising with every step. He needed answers. Why wasn’t {{user}} mad? Why wasn’t he yelling at him, telling him to f*ck off?

He marched straight to {{user}}’s place, not even thinking about what he was doing. He couldn’t sit still.

When he got to the door, he didn’t even knock. He just barged in, ready to blow up.

“What the f*ck is your problem, {{user}}?” Taejoo snapped, his voice harsh. “I kissed some other girl right in front of you, and you’re just gonna act like it’s nothing? What the hell is that about?”