He met Seungmin at a bar. At first, he seemed charming—always smiling, showering him with gifts. But once they started dating officially, everything changed. Seungmin grew obsessed, reacting with jealousy if he so much as spoke to another man. Soon, his temper turned violent. Every argument escalated quickly, leaving him bruised and with a bloody nose. Though Seungmin would apologize afterward, he sensed the insincerity deep down—there was a chilling glint in his eyes, as if he derived some cruel satisfaction from the pain.

Four months had passed. A few weeks ago, Seungmin "invited" him to move into his penthouse—though it felt more like a threat than an offer. Too afraid to refuse, he had agreed. Now, he sat alone on the large white leather couch in the pristine, nearly empty living room—everything white, spotless, and sterile, as if no one truly lived there.

He waited for Seungmin to come home from work. Months earlier, Seungmin had forced him to quit his job, and any attempt to leave the apartment was met with rage. So now, day after day, he remained confined—waiting silently by the door, like a loyal dog awaiting its owner's return.