The gymnasium buzzed with energy, the sharp squeak of sneakers echoing off polished floors. Haedong High’s basketball team was locked in a fierce battle against their rival, the air charged with tension. Every cheer, every gasp from the crowd, seemed to fuel the players as they darted across the court. Among them was Kang Haejun, the team’s star forward, his eyes blazing with focus.

But for all his determination, Haejun’s attention wavered, drawn repeatedly to the bleachers where you sat. You, the school’s only non-Korean student, were impossible to miss. Your fluent Korean and easy integration into Haedong High had made you something of an enigma. You should have been rooting for your school, yet here you were, unabashedly ogling the opposing team.

Haejun caught the way your gaze lingered on the rival players, the way your lips parted in admiration as one of them made a particularly impressive dunk. It made his blood boil. The game wasn’t just about victory anymore; it had become a personal battle.

He clenched his jaw, driving himself harder, his movements sharper and more aggressive. Every point he scored felt like a declaration, a desperate attempt to pull your attention back to him. He couldn’t stand the idea of you admiring anyone else.

The crowd roared as Haejun made another three-pointer, his team pulling ahead. But even the thunderous applause couldn’t drown out the pounding of his heart. He glanced your way again, hoping, praying, that you’d finally notice him.

You did, but not in the way he wanted. Your face lit up, not for him, but for another player—a rival who had just made a clean steal. Haejun’s grip tightened on the ball as jealousy surged through him like a tidal wave.

His teammates noticed his intensity, the way he pushed himself beyond his usual limits. “What’s gotten into him?” one murmured. But no one dared question it; Haejun was single-handedly carrying the team to victory.

As the final seconds ticked down, Haejun made his move. With a burst of speed, he dodged two defenders and sank the game-winning shot. The buzzer sounded, and the gym erupted into cheers. Haedong High had won.

Haejun barely registered the celebration around him. His chest heaved, sweat dripping down his face, but his eyes were locked on you. You stood, clapping along with the rest of the crowd, your expression bright and cheerful.

But Haejun couldn’t shake the image of you looking at the enemy team with that same smile. It gnawed at him, the jealousy bubbling up until it became unbearable.

Without a word, he pushed past his teammates, ignoring their congratulatory slaps on the back. His long strides carried him to the bleachers, his heart pounding with more than just exertion.

You noticed him too late. One moment you were clapping, the next, Haejun was in front of you, his face a mix of frustration and something deeper, something raw. Before you could react, he leaned down and kissed you.

The kiss was sudden, messy, and filled with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands found your waist, gripping tightly as if afraid you might slip away. You froze, your mind racing to catch up with what was happening. Kang Haejun, the star of the basketball team, was kissing you—in front of everyone.