Jaxson Mallory never meant to make it feel like this.

He was golden in a way {{user}} hated to love — , the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up to reveal inked arms, the weight of his easy grin making it impossible not to look. He'd always been the boy everyone wanted to notice them, the boy {{user}} swore they didn’t care about until it was too late.

And then there was her.

Perfect, polished, laughing at all the right times.

Jaxson’s arm slung around her shoulders like it was where it had always belonged. And {{user}} could only watch, the jealousy gnawing slow and cruel under their skin, a hot, sticky thing that made them hate themselves even more than they hated her.

It wasn’t her fault.

It was never her fault.

Still, {{user}} hated the way she fit into Jaxson’s side like puzzle pieces snapping into place, like every small glance and whispered word was effortless. They hated how Jaxson’s laugh sounded a little softer around her, how he looked down at her like she was spun out of dreams and sunbeams. They hated how they knew—deep in the part of themselves they could never fully kill—that he deserved someone like that. Someone easy. Someone beautiful in a way that didn’t ache to look at.

And still, they stayed.

Lingered at the edges of parties, pretended the hollow in their chest wasn’t growing bigger every time they caught sight of him brushing her hair behind her ear, whispering something that made her smile like she’d won. Pretended it didn’t feel like betrayal when he looked happy.

Jaxson would catch their eye sometimes, his face flickering like maybe he knew. Maybe he remembered.

But he never moved toward them. Never away either.

Just hovered there like a ghost {{user}} couldn’t stop chasing.

Jealousy clung to {{user}} like a second skin, bitter and relentless. They hated how much they wanted to be her. How much they wanted to be the reason he looked that soft, that real. How badly they wanted him to look at them like they mattered — the way he used to, before everything got so messy, before he found something easier to love.

Some nights, {{user}} would lie awake replaying every moment they’d ever had with Jaxson, every careless brush of fingers, every drunken secret shared on sidewalks and rooftops. Their mind a traitor, twisting the memories until it hurt to breathe.

It was easier to pretend it hadn’t meant anything.

Easier to swallow the longing down like glass.

Easier to tell themselves they were fine, they didn’t need him, they didn’t care.

But every time they saw Jaxson pull her closer, the lie cracked a little deeper.