There was a knock at my door. I had been expecting it.

Idol had called earlier, saying he needed to talk. Something important, he’d said. Now, as I moved to open the door, I felt a mix of anticipation and unease. Idol always had a way of unsettling me—exciting and nerve-racking all at once.

The moment I turned the handle, he swept inside like a storm, his energy filling the room before he even spoke. He strode across the space and stopped abruptly, standing still, staring at nothing in particular.

I closed the door behind him, and he turned to look at me. For a long moment, he said nothing, just studied me, his eyes searching mine. Then, without warning, he moved toward me with determined steps.

I instinctively backed away until my shoulders hit the door, my heart pounding in my chest. He didn’t stop, closing the gap between us until he was mere inches away.

“Song,” he breathed, his voice low and strained. His eyes dropped to my lips, and I felt my carefully built walls begin to crack. What were we thinking, pretending we could just be friends? His presence overwhelmed me, his familiar scent pulling me back into memories I’d been trying to suppress.

My phone rang, breaking the tension like a splash of cold water. I seized the distraction, fumbling for my pocket. Idol stepped back, turning away as if to collect himself.

“Hello?” I answered, too flustered to check the caller ID.

“Song?” Gift’s voice came through, trembling and panicked. There was a loud banging in the background. “Please, come quick—I don’t know what to do!”

“Gift? What’s happening? Where are you?” I demanded, alarmed.

“I’m at home,” she cried, her voice cracking. “Someone’s trying to break in—please hurry!”

I could hear the pounding on her door, followed by a muffled scream. My stomach clenched in fear.

“I’m on my way,” I promised, hanging up as quickly as I could.

I turned to Idol, who looked equally concerned. Without needing to explain, I grabbed my keys, and we rushed out the door.

“You didn’t have to come,” I said softly as we got into the car. My hands trembled on the steering wheel as I started the engine.

“I’m your friend,” Idol said simply.

His words stirred something in me, conflicting with everything I’d been trying to suppress since my conversation with God. I knew Idol’s presence shouldn’t comfort me, yet it did. Even as panic gripped me, having him beside me steadied my nerves.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

When we arrived at Gift’s apartment, a tall man was pounding on her door, yelling her name. He was muscular, dressed in leather, and exuded a menacing air.

“Hey!” I shouted as I approached. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Get away from her door!”

The man turned to face me, his expression dark and threatening. “Mind your own business,” he growled, his eyes narrowing.

“This is my business!” I shot back, my voice shaking but resolute. Idol stood behind me, his hand resting lightly on my back, a silent reassurance. “Gift is my girlfriend!”

The man paused, then barked out a mocking laugh. “You? That’s a joke.”

Before I could respond, the door opened a crack, and Gift darted out. She ran straight into my arms, her tear-streaked face burying into my chest. I caught sight of a bruise blooming on her cheek, and my blood boiled.

“You hit her?” I growled, holding her trembling frame gently as I brushed her tears away with careful fingers.

The man sneered. “Gift, you can’t seriously be with this child,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.

My hands clenched into fists. Rage surged through me, ready to explode. But before I could act, Idol stepped forward.

Without warning, he threw a punch that connected squarely with the man’s jaw. The stranger stumbled back, startled, but quickly recovered, swinging at Idol. Idol dodged effortlessly, landing another blow to the man’s stomach.

The man doubled over, coughing as he clutched his midsection.

“Get out,” Idol snarled, his voice icy. “And don’t come back.”

The stranger glared at Gift one last time before retreating. She hid her face in my shoulder, her small hands clutching at my shirt.

I turned to Idol, who stood watching the man disappear. His hand was red and swelling from the impact of the punch. I mouthed a silent thank you, and he nodded, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, the three of us stood there in the quiet aftermath, the air heavy with unspoken words.

We helped Gift into her apartment and settled her on the couch. She had calmed down now that the man—Jack, apparently—was gone. Still, I couldn’t shake the image of his sneer or the bruise on her face. I didn’t want to push her, but I needed answers.

Idol leaned against the wall behind her, his arms crossed, watching silently. From where I sat next to Gift, I could see him clearly, his sharp gaze unwavering.

“That was my ex-boyfriend,” Gift said softly, staring at her lap. Her voice was tinged with shame. “I’m sorry, Song. I didn’t mean for you all to get involved. We broke up a year ago, and I even moved to a new apartment. I don’t know how he found me…”

A mix of shock and anger bubbled inside me. That guy? That guy had been her boyfriend? It was hard to reconcile the thug we’d just seen with the sweet, kind-hearted woman sitting next to me.

“He’s not all bad,” Gift added quickly, glancing up and catching the expression on my face. “Jack just… has a bad temper. But he can be really sweet too!”

Her defense of him was like a punch to the gut. I didn’t know what was worse: that she had dated someone like him or that she was still making excuses for him even after he’d hit her.

“How do you go from dating that piece of trash to dating Song?” Idol’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything, and his disapproval was palpable.

Gift flinched but kept going. “My parents,” she admitted quietly. “After we broke up, Jack kind of… lost it. I ended up in the hospital for a day, and my parents got scared. They talked to Song’s parents, and I figured I had nothing to lose…”

Idol made a sound of disgust, a low, guttural noise that made Gift’s eyes well up again. She started to cry, and I instinctively pulled her into a hug. My arms wrapped protectively around her as I shot a look at Idol, silently pleading for him to tone it down.

But he wasn’t looking at me. His gaze was distant, his jaw clenched as if he were holding back words—or something more.

What if Jack came back? The thought made my stomach churn. Sure, I could defend myself, but could I really take someone like him in a fight? My previously simple, safe relationship with Gift suddenly felt like a minefield.

When Gift finally calmed down, I promised her I’d be back after dropping Idol off. She nodded, wiping her tears as I left her apartment.

The car ride was silent for a while. I focused on the road, but the tension was suffocating. Idol broke the silence.

“I’ll deal with it,” he said. His tone was calm, matter-of-fact.

I glanced at him, my grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Deal with what?”

“That guy,” Idol replied simply. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother her again.”

There was a weight to his words, a quiet certainty that scared me. His expression was unreadable, but the resolve in his voice was unmistakable.

“What are you planning to do?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his gaze fixed out the window.

“Don’t worry?” I muttered, frustration creeping into my tone. “How can I not worry when you say things like that?”

He didn’t respond, and the silence that followed was heavier than before. Whatever he was planning, he wasn’t going to tell me.

I sighed, gripping the wheel harder. Idol was impulsive, sure, but he wasn’t reckless—at least not usually. Still, the look on his face made me nervous. I didn’t want him doing something stupid, especially not for Gift. She wasn’t his responsibility.

And yet… I knew Idol. Once his mind was set on something, there was no talking him out of it.

“I’ll call God,” I muttered under my breath. If anyone could talk sense into Idol, it was him.

Idol didn’t react, but I caught the faintest flicker of a smile as he turned his face toward the window, the streetlights casting shadows across his sharp features.