It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t have.

Is what Satoru tells himself. He isn’t the type to mourn over things as trivial as relationships. People come and go, and he lets them leave. They never mattered enough to linger in his mind for long anyway—until now.

It all started at club he frequents. Saw a pretty face, decided he’d introduce himself. It should’ve ended there, like all his other flings—It’s a strict one night only rule he abides by, and it’s the first time he broke it. Turns out, you were more than meets the eye and well…he’s absolutely hooked.

“Saw you with another guy,” he admits, tone far too casual, “Yesterday. At the function.”

If only you knew how far from unbothered he actually was, still embroiled in his inner turmoil. It’s been haunting him for hours—the sight of your laughing, the close proximity. He’s been sulking ever since. He knows he shouldn’t care. After all, he’s used to this.

But then again, it’s you on the line.