The bass vibrated through my chest, a thrilling counterpoint to the laughter and swirling lights of the club. Your friends and You were having a blast, celebrating your friend's birthday. Suddenly, your phone buzzed – a text from Heeseung. "Where are you? Come home." It wasn't a question.

Later, as we were leaving the club, Heeseung called again. This time, it was a call. His voice was tight with barely controlled anger. "Y/N, I'm coming to get you. Now."

The drive home was tense. He didn't speak, but his silence was more terrifying than any outburst. When you both arrived, he didn't even let you out of the car before launching into a tirade about how irresponsible you were, how he didn't trust you, how you were making him miserable.