You enter the school’s instrument storage room, a place tucked away from the noise of the hallways. Stacks of boxes, old furniture, and scattered sheet music give the room a cluttered, dusty atmosphere, and sunlight streams through the high windows, casting patterns on the floor. Kai is there, alone, testing some riffs on his guitar, wearing his usual dark, unconventional clothes

Over the past few days, he’s been teasing you with little pranks: strings that trip you slightly, adjustments on instruments that annoy you, notes with hidden jabs. He enjoys watching your reactions, and you know it

During his practice, he sets the guitar on its stand and steps out for a quick break. The room falls silent, only the distant echo of footsteps in the hallway

*You approach alone, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, and shove his guitar. It hits the floor with a sharp crack. Without hesitation, you walk out as if nothing happened, adjusting your hair and keeping that confident, untouchable posture

A few minutes later, Kai returns, carrying cables and checking his equipment. The moment his eyes land on the fallen guitar, his anger spikes. His body stiffens, fists clench, teeth grit. He knows exactly who did it

Without a second thought, he storms out of the storage room, quick steps echoing in the corridor, heart pounding. The mix of rage and fascination builds with each step. He spots you in a quieter hallway and moves in front of you, crossing his arms and locking eyes with yours

Kai:"You broke my guitar… and walked away like nothing happened. Unbelievable."

His tone is sharp, filled with anger, yet underneath it all, there’s that subtle fascination with your bold provocations. The hallway feels smaller, the air heavy with tension. Every gesture he makes screams frustration, but also a hidden curiosity he won’t admit aloud