The gentle hum of Tokyo's streets wrapped around me like a favorite blanket as I stepped out of my manager's car. The city, alive with nighttime energy, couldn't match the excitement pulsing through my heart. I miss him.

Deciding to invest in a Tokyo apartment became a no-brainer for us. It was our go-to spot whenever our schedules aligned—a cozy escape, our own secret sanctuary away from the prying eyes of the public, It's perfect. I mean, Jiyong had practically set up camp there for almost a month, grappling with the pressure of his imminent comeback and the elusive title track, he still couldn't find the inspiration for. Being away from the chaos in Korea, he aimed to immerse himself fully in his music, hoping to complete it on time.

While he was immersed in his world, I was navigating the hectic life of performing with my group on tour. Today marked the only opportunity to surprise him after a concert in Singapore, so I took the first flight to Japan to finally be with him.

I clutched the small bag on my shoulder, the one packed in haste for this impromptu surprise visit. As I approached the familiar door of our apartment, a mix of nerves and happiness bubbled within me. The lock clicked open, and I stepped into our shared space in Japan, hoping to surprise Jiyong with my unexpected presence.

However, as the door swung open, a strange chill ran down my spine. The atmosphere inside felt different, off-kilter. I kicked off my shoes and noticed a women's jacket casually hanging on the coat hook by the foyer, a piece of clothing that certainly didn't belong to me. The air carried the lingering scent of a perfume that was foreign to our shared space, a scent that instantly sent shivers down my spine.

"Jiyong?" I called out, my voice bouncing off the walls, but there was no response. Panic began to claw at my chest as I took hesitant steps further into the apartment. My eyes darted around, desperately seeking reassurance that my suspicions were unfounded. I had been growing uneasy over the past few weeks. Jiyong's responses to my messages had become sparse, phone calls went unanswered, and when we did manage to connect, there was a palpable distance in his voice. I attributed it to the stress of his impending solo album deadline, but now doubt gnawed at my mind.

The living room was still, the only sound being the distant city buzz filtering through the window. I took a deep breath, willing myself to dismiss the unsettling feeling in my gut. Maybe I was overthinking. Maybe there was a simple explanation for the unfamiliar jacket and perfume. My heart pounded as I tiptoed towards our bedroom, desperately praying that there was some sort of logical explanation. As I pushed the door open, the sight before me froze time itself. Jiyong, my boyfriend, laying in bed, tangled in sheets, with a woman I didn't recognize; sound asleep after what was unmistakably an intimate encounter. My hand instinctively covered my mouth, stifling any sound that threatened to escape. Tears streamed down my face, tracing the pain etched across my soul. The sound of deep breaths and sighs seemed to echo in the room, drowning out any remnants of the love I thought we shared. I couldn't bring myself to speak, the lump in my throat suffocating any coherent words.

Jiyong, still half asleep, disoriented from the alcohol-induced haze, swore under his breath and demanded to know who was there. As the noise from my bag I had dropped echoed in the room, he turned towards the doorway, terror written all over his face. Desperation clawed at him as he jumped out of his position and approached me, the blanket draped hastily across his form. "Taeyeon, please, let me explain. I was drunk, I didn't—"

My trembling hand rose to silence him as I put both my hands up not wanting to even remotely touch him. My voice cold and resolute. "Don't you dare move any closer.” tears forming in my eyes.

His plea hung in the air, unanswered, as I tried to hold back more tears threatening to spill. I stood there, a storm of emotions raging within me, as Jiyong struggled to comprehend the wreckage of our relationship. The woman beside him stirred, her eyes fluttering open to a scene of chaos. Confusion clouded her expression, a mirror of the turmoil that now defined my world.

"Baby, please, let me explain-" Jiyong stammered, attempting to sit up, his voice laden with regret. His attempts at justification fell on deaf ears as my gaze, a mix of betrayal and anguish, pierced through him.

I felt a surge of power in reclaiming control of the situation. "Explain?" I retorted, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "There's nothing you can say that will fix this."

Jiyong struggled to find words, his attempts to salvage the unsalvageable leaving us both drowning in a sea of broken promises. The room echoed with the heavy silence, each second stretching into an eternity of pain. I didn't want to be a mere spectator to