I sit in silence, resting my arms on my knees. Finding a seat beside me, Mark hands me a water bottle, which I gladly accept. Water dribbles down my neck, as I quickly drink the contents. Extending my legs, I lean back, placing my weight on my hands. The iciness of the court floor stings my hands, but the coldness soon melts away against my burning flesh. I grind my jaw as my eyes follow YoungJi and Bambam. They huddle together on the other side of the court, smiling and laughing.

            “Dude, relax. Its just Bambam,” Mark says.

            “I know. I’m not jealous or anything,” I say nonchalantly.

            Mark’s laugh pierces my ears, but I pretend not to hear. As I watch YoungJi, my mind tries to convince my inner self that my boiling blood and clenched fists aren’t caused by her interactions with Bambam. I feel Mark’s hand pat my shoulder.

            “YoungJi is hot,” Mark says.

            Before he can continue I interrupt, “What?!”

            “Man, jealousy is pouring out of you. What are you going to do when someone actually tries to hit on her? You’re about to explode just from Bambam’s harmless flirting. Are you going to pass out if someone charismatic like Song Mino or JB makes a pass at her?” Mark explains laughing.

            “I’m not jealous,” I shout fooling no one.

            “Whatever you say man,” Mark says, throwing his arms up in defeat.

            My body unconsciously fidgets as I try to keep my composure. I scratch my chin awkwardly, attempting to look confident.

            “Hey, you guys ready to play?” Mark calls to YoungJi and Bambam, presenting his killer smile.

            His smile brings light to the cloudy court, my own heart skipping a beat from his handsomeness.

            “Hey. Don’t smile,” I say.

            “Huh? Why would I not smile?” He asks dumbfounded.

            I ignore his question, embarrassed at myself for asking for such a ridiculous request. Could I be more paranoid? I avoid eye contact as I head to the middle of the court. My mind loses focus as Mark, Bambam, and YoungJi discuss the rules. Mark claps, snapping me out of my trance.

            “Did you hear the rules? First to ten points win,” Mark tells me.

            “Ok. Yeah. I got it,” I say.

            The game begins, with YoungJi and Bambam on the offense. Mark positions himself under the basket, as I stand further forward. Rather than focusing on the match, my thoughts are occupied by Bambam whispering game plans into YoungJi’s ear. I snap. Walking over to the two, I forcefully separate the two.

            “Please keep at least a one foot distance apart from each other,” I say uncomfortably. My look gives Bambam a clear warning.

            I walk back to my spot ignoring Mark’s judgmental smirk. Turning around, I see Bambam and YoungJi just as close as they had been.

            “Yah!” I yell.

            “Yah, Wang Jackson. I’ll decide how close to Bambam I want to stand,” YoungJi says firmly.

            I shut up at the strength of her words. My emotions soon get the best of me, as I have no idea how to deal with my uncontrollable jealousy. Utterly distracted, YoungJi and Bambam quickly score four points.

            “Dude, what are you doing?” Mark asks anno