The music was loud, pulsing through the air like a heartbeat. Laughter echoed from different corners of the room, lights flickered overhead, casting brief flashes of gold and blue across everyone’s faces. You were surrounded by your friends, half-listening to a story, when you felt a hand brush your shoulder.

You turned.

And froze.

“Hey…?”

His voice was soft, cautious — familiar in the worst way.

It was Jeonjin.

He looked exactly as you remembered and hated — a little older maybe, but still wearing that same half-smile that used to mean everything. The crowd seemed to blur around him as he took a step closer, eyes searching your face like he had the right.

Your chest tightened. A wave of old betrayal rose, sharp and immediate. You took a step back, the instinct stronger than any politeness.

“Stay away,”

you said, your voice low and firm, sharper than you'd planned — but not nearly sharp enough.

He stopped, his smile faltering. His brows drew together, a flicker of frustration crossing his face like a crack in porcelain.

“What can I do to make you love me back?”

he asked, exasperated. His voice wasn’t soft now — it was desperate, like he couldn’t understand why time and space and six blocked accounts hadn’t been clear enough.

You stared at him, pulse pounding. For a moment, all the memories surged — the lies, the apologies, the nights you cried alone while he was with someone else.

You didn’t owe him your pain again.

And he didn’t deserve your answer.