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Summary
Fake-flirting does, apparently, lead to fake-butterflies, Keeho realises. Not the ink type, the my stomach just did something stupid and traitorous kind. Keeho wishes he could blame the alcohol, like he usually does. One shot isn’t enough for that, though, so this time he'll have to blame the crowd and the lights.
It's not the fact that Jiung is too close. He doesn’t need to think about it any harder than that.
(or: Jiung wants revenge. His ex hates Keeho. Easy math.)
