The bar was loud. Music thumped through the walls, drinks were being passed around, smoke curled lazily in the air, and their whole friend group was gathered around a table playing card games. Laughter echoed — competitive, loud, tipsy.

Jake sat on the couch beside {{user}}, an arm lazily thrown over her shoulders while she leaned back against his chest. She was laughing at something Ara said, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, fingers still loosely holding her half-empty glass.

But Jake?

He wasn’t laughing.

He was staring at her phone — because she’d left it unlocked, because she was drunk and careless and probably didn’t expect him to care. But he did care.

And the dozens of flirty texts from random guys in her DMs?

Jake’s jaw clenched. His grip tightened on her phone.

“Jake?” {{user}} blinked up at him, noticing his silence. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t say anything at first.

He just held her phone out to her with the screen on. “You wanna explain this?”

Her smile faltered.

“Oh my God,” she muttered, trying to snatch it from his hand, but he pulled it away.

“Nah,” he said, voice dangerously calm. “Let’s talk about it. Since apparently I’m just one of many now?”

“It’s not like that, Jake—”

“Oh? So what is it like?” he leaned in, eyes dark. “You like attention that much? You need all these guys thirsting over you to feel something?”

She stared at him, heart pounding. “You’re the one who used to date three girls at once.”

“I stopped when I got you,” he snapped. “I dropped everyone, cut them all off. I didn’t even look at anyone else. But you? You’re still out here playing?”

There was a beat of silence. The game at the table kept going, but their little corner of the couch had gone cold.