Chapter Text
L.TY
I didn't mean to cry.
It just happened—like my body decided before my pride could stop it. One second I was standing there, trying to breathe, and the next my face was buried in Ten's shoulder, tears soaking through his shirt as if my heart had finally given up holding itself together.
"I can't believe he did that," I whispered, my voice breaking so badly it barely sounded like me. "He didn't even care."
Ten wrapped his arms around me without hesitation, steady and warm, like muscle memory. He always held me like this—secure, protective, no questions asked. His hand moved in slow circles against my back, grounding me when my thoughts felt like they were spiraling out of control.
"Hey," he murmured softly, close to my ear. "You don't have to be strong right now."
That was the worst part.
Because I had been strong. For weeks. For months. For him.
And it still hadn't been enough.
I didn't remember sitting down on the bed in our shared dorm room, but somehow I was there—knees pulled to my chest, Ten sitting beside me, the faint hum of the heater filling the silence. My phone buzzed once on the desk behind us.
I didn't look.
I already knew who it was.
Flashback
"Have you seen Jaehyun?"
The words tasted strange in my mouth, like I'd said them too many times already. I stood at the front of the classroom, gripping my notebook a little too tightly as I scanned the faces of his classmates.
A few of them glanced up, then back down at their laptops.
"No," one of them muttered.
Another shook their head without even looking at me.
I smiled anyway. "Okay. Thanks."
I walked out before anyone could see the tightness in my jaw.
Something felt off.
Jaehyun wasn't answering his phone. He hadn't texted me back all morning, not even a casual busy rn or later. Normally I'd brush it off—he was forgetful, easily distracted, always swept up in people and moments like the world revolved around him.
I'd loved that about him once.
Now it just made my chest ache.
I wandered campus with no real direction, letting my feet carry me through places we used to sit together—the steps near the arts building, the quiet bench under the trees, the hallway outside the practice rooms. Each place felt emptier than the last.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then another ten.
By the time I gave up and headed toward the café, the knot in my stomach had turned into something heavier. Something colder.
The café doors swung open, warm air and laughter spilling out—and then I saw him.
Jaehyun.
My Jaehyun.
He was sitting at a corner table, relaxed, leaning back like he didn't have a care in the world. U-Jin was perched in his lap, her legs angled toward him, her head thrown back in laughter as his hands rested far too comfortably on her waist.
Their friends surrounded them, smiling, teasing, watching like it was entertainment.
Like this was normal.
Like I was invisible.
For a second, my vision tunneled.
I stood there frozen, my hot cocoa sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the cup, my chocolate cake suddenly too heavy in my hands. My ears rang as blood rushed through my head.
He hadn't noticed me yet.
That hurt more than anything.
I walked toward the table slowly, every step deliberate, my heartbeat thundering so loudly I was sure the entire café could hear it. A few people started to stare, sensing tension they didn't understand.
Jaehyun finally looked up.
Our eyes met.
Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe guilt—but it vanished almost instantly.
That was when something inside me snapped.
I didn't scream. I didn't ask why. I didn't beg for an explanation.
I poured the hot cocoa straight down U-Jin's lap.
She shrieked, scrambling up as gasps rippled through the café. Before anyone could stop me, I grabbed the plate and smashed the chocolate cake into Jaehyun's face—cream and crumbs sticking to his skin, frosting smearing his smile.
The room went dead silent.
For half a second, I felt powerful.
Then Jaehyun laughed.
Not nervous laughter.
Not shocked laughter.
Real laughter—loud, careless, humiliating.
"What the hell, Taeyong?" he said, wiping chocolate from his cheek like it was a joke. "You're crazy."
Crazy.
That word landed harder than any insult.
I turned around before the tears could fall, before he could say anything else that would cut deeper. I walked out of the café with my head held high, my hands shaking, my vision blurring the moment the cold air hit my face.
The second the doors shut behind me, I pulled out my phone.
Me: Ten, can you come over?
Me: Please.
*Flashback Over*
"I really thought he loved me," I said quietly, staring at the wall as Ten held me. My voice sounded hollow, like it was echoing inside an empty room. "I kept telling myself I was just being insecure."
Ten didn't interrupt. He never did when I needed to say things out loud just to hear how broken they sounded.
"I changed so much for him," I continued. "I tried to be more patient. Less sensitive. I made excuses for him when people warned me."
My hands clenched into the fabric of Ten's shirt. "And he still made me feel like I was... nothing."
Ten gently pulled back, just enough to look at me. His eyes were soft, but there was anger there too—quiet, controlled, protective.
"Taeyong," he said firmly. "Loving someone doesn't mean shrinking yourself so they can feel bigger."
I swallowed hard.
"He laughed at me," I whispered. "In front of everyone."
"That says everything about him," Ten replied. "And nothing about you."
The tears finally slowed, leaving me exhausted and raw. I wiped my face, breathing shakily as I forced myself to sit up straighter.
"I don't want to feel like this again," I admitted. "I don't ever want to feel this small."
Ten smiled gently. "Then don't settle for someone who makes you feel that way."
I nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in.
"You deserve someone who treats your heart like it matters," he added. "Someone who doesn't turn your love into a punchline."
A small, tired smile tugged at my lips.
"You always know what to say," I murmured.
"That's because I know you," Ten said softly.
I didn't know it then—but Jung Jaehyun hadn't just broken my heart.
He taught me pain.
And pain, I would later learn, was the lesson that taught me what love should never look like.