It started on a random Tuesday in the school gym.

Lee Dojae — second-year, varsity basketball forward, campus heartthrob whether he liked it or not — stole the spotlight without even trying. He moved like the court belonged to him, sinking shot after shot against your team during what was supposed to be a friendly match.

He wasn’t your type. Not even close. Too tall. Too broad-shouldered. Too effortlessly masculine.

And yet, somehow, your eyes kept following him.

That night, your classes ended up at the same bar to celebrate the game. Music thumped through the dim space, laughter spilling over sticky tables, but none of it held your attention for long. No matter how hard you tried, your gaze drifted back to him — leaning against the counter, rolling up his sleeves, laughing with his teammates.

Every time he caught you staring, you looked away too fast. Every time someone spoke to you, you pretended you hadn’t been watching him again.

You told yourself it was harmless.

Then he stepped outside for a smoke.

And you followed.

You barely had time to think of something clever to say before he turned, eyes sharp, and said it bluntly:

“You've been staring at me all night”

No hesitation. No teasing smile. Just fact.

Your denial died in your throat.

And then he surprised you again.

“I’ve never dated a guy before,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair like this was just another casual decision. “So how about this? Three dates. We try it out. If it works, it works. If it doesn’t, no hard feelings.”

A trial.

You should’ve been insulted. Or offended. Or at least more cautious.

Instead, curiosity burned hotter than pride.

You agreed — but only on one condition.

“If we’re doing this, you don’t see anyone else.”

He held your gaze for a long second before nodding. “Fine.”

And just like that, you were… dating.

Two weeks passed faster than you expected. He was attentive. Polite. Almost disarmingly gentle. He opened doors, walked you home, remembered small details you mentioned in passing. It felt… real.

Which made today — the second official date — feel important.

You waited outside his classroom after school, nerves buzzing under your skin. The hallway gradually emptied. Laughter faded. Minutes ticked by.

Five.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Maybe he was finishing something up.

Your chest tightened. Finally, you exhaled sharply and stepped toward the door, knocking once.

No answer.

So you pushed it open.

And froze.

Lee Dojae stood inside.

Too close to another girl.

She was perched on one of the desks, fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt. His collar was slightly open, like it had been tugged. He leaned toward her — intimate, familiar.