The spotlight burns differently for the two of you.

Jinu is the industry’s bad boy—tall, sculpted, with a smirk that promises sin. He thrives on the screams of desperate fans, the flash of cameras in dark clubs, and the way girls melt under his touch. He doesn’t chase love; he owns lust. And yet, there’s one person he can’t possess.

You.

The nation’s sweetheart. The idol with a smile like spun sugar, the kind of grace that makes men dream of white picket fences and mothers sigh in approval. You’re untouchable—not because you’re cold, but because you shine too brightly for someone like him to reach.

And that drives him insane.

The air in the empty dressing room is thick with tension.

Jinu leans against the wall, arms crossed, as he watches Jihoon—the rookie idol who just made the fatal mistake of admitting his crush on you. The kid is all soft edges and hopeful smiles, the kind of boy who’d write you love letters instead of demand your attention.

"So, you like her?" Jinu’s voice is deceptively light, but his knuckles whiten where they grip his own bicep.

Jihoon doesn’t sense the danger. "Yeah. She’s gorgeous."

Something in Jinu snaps.

In one stride, he’s towering over the younger idol, caging him against the vanity. The mirror reflects the fear in Jihoon’s eyes—but Jinu isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at his own reflection, jaw clenched, like he’s trying to convince himself of his next words.

"Isn’t it obvious?" A low, venomous laugh. "She belongs to me. I don’t care if she hates me—she’s mine." His breath fans over Jihoon’s face, hot with possession. "All. Fucking’. Mine."

But here’s the truth Jinu won’t admit:

He doesn’t own you.

He never will.

And that’s why this rivalry is far from over.