Fuck! That’s like a kick to the gut. Seung actually feels the breath leave his lungs like Jay landed a physical blow. He might as well have slapped Seung across the face. It stings and, for only a fraction of a second, the hurt and surprise (why should he be surprised after he what he did? Is it surprising that it hurts so much?) show clearly on his face.

But then his smile returns, attention shifting to the young man Jay handed his number to. “Yeah, we’re done here,” he croons. It hard to pretend like Jay isn’t right there, like he isn’t walking out with his coffee in hand while Seung wastes time flirting with someone to spite him. And yet…

At least it’s only a moment because he really does have to leave.