Until we meet again (NetJames)

James' POV

We were about to have dinner when JJ unexpectedly arrived. Direct invited him to join us, and he accepted. I watched Net, his gaze fixated on JJ, a soft, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. His eyes, usually bright and playful, held a depth of emotion I'd never seen before—a quiet adoration that radiated from him like a gentle warmth. He barely took his eyes off JJ, his every glance filled with a tenderness that ached in my chest. It was the kind of adoration that spoke volumes, a silent language of devotion that was both beautiful and heartbreaking to witness. I wished it were me receiving that look, that unwavering affection. I'd be lying if I said I'd moved on from Net; I still love him and want to be with him. It was my decision to leave him, but I'm somewhat content knowing he's happy with JJ, even though it hurts. I'll support them both as much as I can because I know it's my fault I lost him. His words still echo in my ears: "I hate you for leaving me." It still hurts terribly. I never imagined the person I loved would say that to me because I chose my dreams over him.

The ride with Net and JJ wasn't overwhelmingly awkward, but a slight awkwardness remained, a lingering reminder that Net is my ex and JJ is his new partner. I'm the past, and JJ is the future.

While we were eating, I lost my appetite watching Net and JJ's tender interactions. It made me want to cry and wonder what that feels like. Net never showed me that kind of affection, so I was extremely jealous, but I know I don't have the right to be.

JJ's POV

I could feel a wall building between Net and me again since James started coming back.  It's a wall of avoidance, of subtle shifts and carefully orchestrated distances.  He's been very sweet, almost overly so, but I sense he's only doing that to make me feel like everything is okay, that there's no problem.  He's sweet, but if you looked into his eyes, you'd see sadness and longing – a longing that has nothing to do with me. He avoids physical closeness, his touch hesitant and brief.  The space between us feels vast and empty. I'm here, but I know it's not for me; it's for James. He misses James; he still loves James. I've known since we started this relationship that it's always been about James.

During dinner, I noticed a sudden change in James's expression. I think he saw how affectionate Net and I were, and I suspect his feelings for Net are still there—a mutual feeling, perhaps, even love.  I also noticed Net's expression shift from sweet to worried about James. An awkward atmosphere settled over us afterward, and Net watched James intently for the rest of the evening.  After dinner, we all went home. James hadn't eaten his dinner, and since then, Net has been distant and unresponsive, barely acknowledging my presence.

For the next few days, I was on set with them as Net's personal assistant. I saw Net enjoying James's presence, while I felt like a mere appendage, insignificant and overlooked.  I noticed James only spoke to Net when necessary; a professional courtesy, nothing more. James was respectful of Net and me, but Net seemed uncaring since James's return.  James was Net's first love, first boyfriend, first heartbreak—everything. Even Net's family misses James; they're kind to me, treating me like their own child, but their preference for James was palpable. I even see NetJames fan comments and edits online saying things like, "I'm still at the restaurant waiting for NetJames's comeback."  I'm happy for them that they're starring in a new series together—the company gave them another one after James returned to acting because of their high demand. It's wonderful to see them happy, and of course, I'm pleased for them.  But a quiet conflict gnaws at me.  Part of me celebrates their reunion, genuinely happy for Net's happiness. Yet another part aches with a subtle, persistent jealousy—a feeling I struggle to reconcile with my professed joy.  The memories of supporting Net when James was absent flood back, a bittersweet reminder of a time when my presence felt more significant.  It's a complicated mix of emotions, and I'm not sure how to navigate it all.