Before the tension, before the sideways glances and clenched jaw, you and Jenna had been… good. Great, even. The kind of couple that didn’t have to plaster your relationship everywhere to prove it. You were secure—or at least you thought you were. Sure, Jenna’s job meant she’d always be around new people, making new connections, but you trusted her. She was yours. She had made it clear enough times that she wanted you, not the rest of the world. But still… you weren’t immune to that twisting feeling in your chest when you saw her with someone else, especially someone who seemed to light up around her in a way you’d convinced yourself only you could.

The event had been huge—a packed theater, buzzing with anticipation for the Wednesday season 2 presentation. You’d been watching from your spot in the audience, partly hidden in the VIP section. It should’ve been an exciting night: seeing Jenna shine on stage, watching her do what she loves. And for the most part, it was—until Emma Myers stepped on stage beside her.

It wasn’t just that they were close—it was how close. The way Jenna leaned in when Emma whispered something, her hand resting on Emma’s arm like it belonged there. The casual bump of shoulders followed by Jenna’s soft laugh. Your rational brain told you it was just friendly, just castmate energy, just the kind of bond they’d developed filming together for years. But your gut didn’t care about rationality. Your gut was screaming that it looked too easy between them, too comfortable, like you weren’t the only one who got to feel that warmth from Jenna.

You crossed your arms, shifting in your seat, your eyes glued to every little touch, every subtle smile. You hated that you noticed how Emma’s hand lingered on Jenna’s back when they moved toward the center of the stage. You hated even more the tiny, selfish part of you that wished Jenna would glance into the audience, find your eyes, and silently tell you that none of this meant anything.

By the time the presentation wrapped and they were making their way backstage, your thoughts were running in circles. You weren’t angry—well, not entirely. It was more like a low simmering jealousy, something sharp under your ribs. And when Jenna finally spotted you waiting near the exit, that sharpness turned into an impatient heat.

"Hey, you came."

She said, smiling like she hadn’t just spent an hour making your chest ache. She stepped in to kiss your cheek, oblivious—or maybe not—to the way your eyes flicked in the direction Emma had gone.