The night had been chaos. After the “guns game,” everyone went to the favorite character awards, sitting together among the faceless mannequins. Except for Jax. He sat away from everyone, and after just a lil while, he stood up and walked off, you only noticing because you saw Pomni looking towards something. Seeing her worry but hesitation you told you’d check on him.

So you did.

The trail led to the quiet bathroom, where the buzzing light above the mirror hummed like it was barely hanging on. That’s where you heard him — a sharp breath, a low growl, the sound of fists hitting porcelain.

You hesitated at the door before pushing it open.

He spun around instantly, eyes flashing, chest rising and falling too fast. For once, no smirk. No smug one-liner. Just Jax — cornered, brittle.

“Piss off,” he hissed lowly. His voice wasn’t playful this time. It cracked, harsh and unsteady.

You didn’t move. “I just wanted to make sure you’re—”

“I said piss off!” His voice echoed against the tiles, but it didn’t carry the same weight as before. He looked away, pressing his palms against the counter, shoulders trembling.

The silence stretched. You could’ve left. Maybe you should’ve.

But something in the way his hands shook told you that if you did, the cracks in him might finally break.

“…You don’t always have to keep the mask on,” you said quietly.

He barked a laugh — humorless, tired. “Do I look like Gangle to you know?”

For a second, you thought he’d tell you again to leave. But he didn’t. He stayed there, looking back at the reflection in the mirror.