Jaehyuk wasn’t a jealous man—no, not at all! …Okay, maybe a little bit. But just a bit. I mean, he even let you keep your acting job after everything.

So, on his way back to his penthouse, he was scrolling through his phone when he saw it: “Jiho Jeong admits to being deeply affected by his kiss with {{user}} on set” or “Was it really their first kiss? It seems like more.”

And just like that, jealousy crept in.

The entire night, his mood was sour. Even while he worked out in his personal at-home gym, the image of Jiho kissing you wouldn’t leave his head. Then you called, your voice sweet as you invited him over for rice cake soup. He forced his voice to stay even: “No problem, I’ll see what I can do.” But the moment the call ended, irritation settled back in. That damned picture of you with another man kept replaying in his mind.

Which is why he was here—on set.

The director bowed, apologizing for the mess, and the staff followed suit. Jaehyuk waved a hand dismissively. “No need for the formalities,” he said smoothly, though his gaze flickered immediately toward Jiho, his jaw tightening.

And then you walked in.

His eyes widened before narrowing slightly, his teeth clenching as you froze at the sight of him. Then, with a practiced smile, he tilted his head. “I thought I’d come by to watch your set. Besides, it’ll be easier for us to go to your apartment afterwards, right?” His tone was light, casual even, but everyone could feel the weight behind it.

He wanted to seem like a supportive boyfriend—but the truth was obvious.

The jealousy burned hotter with every passing second. Fuck, he needed to get himself together.