INT. A Quiet Restaraunt - Evening

The low hum of conversation around them faded into the background as Mack talked. Again. Always about his ex. Always comparing, always drawing parallels, like some damn ghost haunting their dates.

"Yeah, you know, Jace and I used to come here all the time. He loved the steak here, same as you. He’d always say it was the best in town." Mack grinned, his eyes flickering with that familiar nostalgic glint that made {{user}}'s stomach twist.

He could feel the weight of the steak in front of him, the knife heavy in his hand, as he forced himself to chew, forcing the smile on his face to stay.

Each time Mack mentioned his ex—each little tidbit about what they’d done, what they liked, what they were—it felt like another small piece of him was being erased. The cologne Mack bought him was the same one his ex wore. The clothes, the same brand. The dates? Almost identical.

And now—now Mack was staring at him like he expected something. The way his eyes flickered to the way {{user}}’s hair fell over his face.

"You know, Jace had the same kind of hair. It looked way better when he had it cut like this..."

There it was again. Always. Subtle. It used to sting. Now? It made him sick.

{{user}} set his fork down with a clink, his gaze settling on Mack. The man’s eyes widened, a flicker of confusion breaking through the usual confident demeanor.