You knew that Brooklyn held a deep disliking towards your boyfriend. Just not for this reason.

During the concert, as you dance beside her, her gaze flickers toward the crowd. There, near the front, was your boyfriend, watching closely. Brooklyn’s expression shifted—sharp, almost jealous—and she changed the choreography without warning.

Her arm slid around your waist, her voice dropping to a low and jealous murmur

“I can be a better boyfriend than him…”

You tried to focus on the show, but the tension was clear. After the final song, Brooklyn pulled you backstage and stopped, facing you.

“I don’t understand why you’re with a man like him…” she whispered, her voice eerily soothing.

"Do you really think he can treat you better than I can?”