Hello

The blue light of a smartphone screen was often the only thing illuminating JJ’s face during the late hours of the night. In the quiet of his room, surrounded by sheet music and the hum of his keyboard, he felt safe. Here, he was just JJ—the music major who preferred the resonance of a cello over the roar of a crowd. But in the world outside, specifically the digital world of the university’s confession pages and Instagram stories, there was a different kind of noise.

And most of it centered around Net Siraphop.

Net was the sun around which the university orbited. A theatre major with a smile that felt like a personal invitation, he was never seen alone. Whether he was rehearsing a lead role or just walking to the cafeteria, he moved with a practiced ease that made people stop and stare.

JJ scrolled past a photo of Net laughing with Keng and Latte, his heart doing a traitorous little skip. He quickly locked his phone and tossed it onto his bed.

"Casual," JJ whispered to the empty room, the word tasting like a lie. "It’s just casual."

It had been three years since that first night—the night of blurred edges and spilled drinks that had ended in Net’s apartment. JJ had woken up in a panic, his skin still humming from Net’s touch, and fled before the sun was fully up. He had convinced himself that Net, the campus playboy, would see it as nothing more than a mistake. But when he couldn't stop thinking about the way Net had looked at him, he had returned with a proposal: a physical arrangement. No strings. No feelings. No public acknowledgement.

Net had agreed, though his eyes had looked unusually dark that day. For three years, they had been ghosts in each other’s lives. They shared a bed, shared breath, and shared secrets in the dark, but in the halls of the university, they were strangers.

Lately, however, the ghosts were starting to haunt the daylight.

"Hey, JJ! Wait up!"

JJ stiffened, his hand tightening on the strap of his guitar case. He was standing in the middle of the central plaza, a high-traffic area. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was. That voice, rich and teasing, belonged to only one person.

Net jogged up to him, looking effortlessly handsome in a loose linen shirt. Behind him, Keng and Latte were watching with confused expressions. From the other side of the plaza, JJ’s own friends—Namping, Kim, and Ohm—had stopped their conversation, their eyes wide.

"What are you doing?" JJ hissed, stepping back.

Net didn't move away. Instead, he leaned in, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "You left your charger at my—I mean, I found this near the music wing. Thought it might be yours."

He held out a white cable. JJ knew for a fact he hadn't lost his charger. Net was baiting him.

"It’s not mine," JJ said sharply, his face heating up. "Go away, Net."

"So cold," Net pouted, loud enough for a group of passing freshmen to giggle. He reached out, his fingers brushing against JJ’s shoulder as if to straighten a stray thread. "You look tired, JJ. Are you practicing too hard? You should let me take you to lunch. My treat."

"I don't know you," JJ snapped, though his heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"You don't?" Net tilted his head, his eyes glimmering with a challenge. "That’s a shame. I feel like I know you quite well. Especially the way you—"

"Stop it!" JJ interrupted, his voice cracking. He turned on his heel and bolted toward the music building, ignoring the whispers that immediately broke out behind him.

---

[U-Confessions: Post #8842] Did anyone else see Net (Theatre) flirting with that quiet guy from the Music dept today? JJ, right? Since when do they even talk? Net was literally glowing while JJ looked like he wanted to vanish into the floor. Enemies to lovers? Or is our campus prince finally being rejected?

Comments: — "I saw it! Net looked so whipped. But JJ is so private, I can't imagine them together." — "Maybe they’re working on a cross-major project?" — "Doubt it. Net was looking at him like he was a five-course meal."

---

For the next week, Net was relentless. He showed up at the campus cafe when JJ was having coffee with Namping. He sat at the table right behind them, loudly complimenting the "mysterious aura" of music students. He even followed JJ to the library, sliding a note onto his desk that simply said: You’re cute when you’re trying to ignore me.

JJ was at his breaking point. The walls he had built to protect his heart were being dismantled by Net’s public displays of affection. He couldn't handle the eyes on him, the whispers in the corridors, or the way his friends were starting to look at him with suspicion.

That evening, JJ didn't wait for a text. He marched straight to Net’s apartment and pounded on the door.

When Net opened it, he looked casual as ever, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. "JJ? This is a surprise. Usually, I have to beg you to come over before midnight."

JJ pushed past him into the living room, his chest heaving. "What is wrong with you? We had a deal, Net! No one was supposed to know. You’re ruining everything!"

Net closed the door slowly, the playful mask finally slipping. He didn't look entertained anymore. He looked tired. "Ruining what, JJ? Our 'arrangement'? The one where I have to pretend I don't love you every time we’re in public?"

JJ froze. The air in the room felt suddenly thin. "Don't... don't say that."

"Why not?" Net stepped into JJ’s space, his presence overwhelming. "I’ve done it your way for three years. I’ve stayed in the shadows. I’ve let you leave my bed before the sun comes up because you’re so afraid of being seen with me. But I’m done, JJ. I’m tired of being a secret."

"It was for protection," JJ whispered, his voice trembling. "You’re... you’re Net. Everyone wants you. I’m just someone who wants to be left alone. If people knew, they’d judge. They’d say I’m just another one of your flings."

"Is that what you think you are?" Net’s voice was low, cracking with emotion. He reached out, cupping JJ’s face with both hands, forcing him to look up. "I haven't looked at anyone else since the day I met you. I agreed to your stupid rules because I thought it was the only way to keep you. But I can't do it anymore. I want to hold your hand in the plaza. I want to take you on a real date. I want everyone to know that you’re mine."

JJ’s eyes filled with tears. He had spent so long convincing himself that Net didn't care, that the "casual" label was his shield. But seeing the raw honesty in Net’s eyes made the shield shatter.

"I was scared," JJ sobbed, finally letting the words out. "I’m still scared. I love you so much it hurts, and I didn't know how to handle it."

Net’s expression softened instantly. He pulled JJ into a crushing hug, burying his face in the crook of JJ’s neck. "You love me?"

"I’ve always loved you," JJ muffled into Net’s shoulder.

They stayed like that for a long time, the silence of the apartment finally feeling peaceful rather than heavy. That night, they didn't just sleep together; they held each other, talking until the early hours of the morning about everything they had been hiding. They decided to be boyfriends, though JJ pleaded for a little more time before they made a "formal" announcement. Net, happy just to be loved back, agreed.

However, fate—and the university’s annual "End of Semester" gala—had other plans.

The gala was a chaotic affair. The campus grounds were transformed into a festival of lights, music, and, most importantly, free-flowing punch. By midnight, most students were in a state of blissful intoxication.

Net and JJ had spent most of the night apart to keep up appearances, but as the night wound down, the pull was too strong. They found a quiet bench near the lake, shielded by a large willow tree. The cool night air and the alcohol had lowered their guards.

JJ was leaning heavily against Net, his head on Net’s shoulder, his eyes half-closed. Net had his arm around JJ’s waist, pulling him close, his chin resting atop JJ’s head. He looked down at JJ with a look of such pure, unadulterated adoration that it would have made a poet weep.

Neither of them noticed the flash of a high-end camera from across the grass. The student photographer, tasked with capturing "candid moments of campus life," had just found his masterpiece.

The next morning, the sun was far too bright.

Net groaned, squinting as a series of aggressive pings erupted from the nightstand. He reached out blindly, grabbing a phone. He didn't realize it was JJ’s until the FaceID—which JJ had added in a fit of late-night vulnerability a week prior—unlocked the screen.

His vision was blurry from sleep and a lingering hangover. He saw a flurry of messages in a group chat titled The Real Music Kings.

Ohm: JJ, answer your phone!! Kim: Are you seeing this? Tell me it’s a photoshop. Namping: If you don't answer in five minutes, we’re coming over. Send us your location right now so we know you’re alive.

Net blinked. His brain, still in power-save mode, only registered the request for a location. He tapped the "Share Location" button and tossed the phone back onto the bed, rolling over to pull a warm, sleepy JJ back into his arms.

"Mmm... who was that?" JJ mumbled, snuggling into Net’s chest.

"Just your friends," Net rasped, kissing JJ’s forehead. "Go back to sleep, baby."

Thirty minutes later, the peace was shattered by a thundering knock on the door. It wasn't a polite knock; it was the sound of people who were prepared to break the door down.

"Net! Open up! We know you’re in there!" Keng’s voice boomed from the hallway.

"JJ! We know you’re here too! The GPS doesn't lie!" Ohm shouted.

Net and JJ scrambled out of bed, eyes wide with panic. JJ grabbed a stray t-shirt and threw it on, while Net frantically looked for his shorts.

"Did you give them your location?" JJ hissed, his face pale.

"I thought they were just checking on you!" Net whispered back.

Before they could decide on a plan, the door—which Net had forgotten to lock after the gala—swung open.

A sea of faces spilled into the apartment. On one side stood Keng and Latte, looking like they had just seen a ghost. On the other were Namping, Kim, and Ohm, their expressions a mix of betrayal and sheer shock.

The silence that followed was deafening. JJ was standing by the bed, hair tousled and eyes wide, while Net was standing in the middle of the room, shirtless and looking very much caught.

"So," Namping said, his voice dangerously calm as he held up his phone. On the screen was the official university gallery. The featured photo was the one from the lake—Net and JJ, wrapped in each other’s arms, looking like the definition of soulmates. "Care to explain why the 'stranger' you’ve been avoiding for three years is currently sharing his bed with you?"

JJ looked at the floor, his ears turning a bright shade of crimson. He opened his mouth to deny it, to say it was a mistake, but then he felt a warm hand slip into his.

Net didn't look away. He stood tall, his fingers interlaced with JJ’s. "We’re dating," Net said, his voice firm and confident, the theatre major finally stepping into the role he had wanted for years. "And it’s not a fling. It’s been him. It’s always been him."

Latte let out a low whistle. "Three years? You guys kept this up for three years?"

"I knew something was fishy when Net started acting like a stalker," Keng muttered, though a grin was starting to spread across his face.

Ohm sighed, crossing his arms. "JJ, I’m offended you didn't tell us, but honestly? Looking at that photo... you look happier than I’ve ever seen you."

JJ looked up, surprised. He saw no judgment in his friends' eyes, only curiosity and a hint of amusement. The fear that had kept him silent for so long began to dissolve, replaced by a strange, light feeling in his chest.

"I’m sorry," JJ said softly, leaning into Net’s side. "I was just... scared."

"Well, you don't have to be anymore," Kim said, stepping forward to pat JJ on the shoulder. "But you are definitely buying us all dinner for the rest of the month as an apology for the secrecy."

"Deal," Net laughed, pulling JJ closer and kissing his temple right in front of everyone.

JJ groaned, burying his face in Net’s shoulder to hide his smile. The secret was out, the world was watching, and for the first time in his life, the noise didn't bother him at all. The only sound that mattered was the steady, rhythmic beat of Net’s heart against his own.