The photo

The "SWU Confessions" page was usually reserved for complaints about the canteen food or sightings of the campus monitor lizard. That changed at 8:02 AM on a Tuesday.

An anonymous user posted a grainy, high-school yearbook scan. In the photo, a younger, slightly softer-featured Net Siraphop had his arm draped possessively around a boy who was clearly a teenage JJ Radchapon. They were leaning into each other, foreheads nearly touching, wearing matching sports wristbands. The caption read: “Wait, are we all just going to ignore the fact that the Drama Department’s golden boy and the Music Faculty’s ice prince were literally in love in high school? Look at how Net is looking at him! My heart can’t take this.”

By 9:00 AM, the post had three thousand likes.

@MusicMajor99: No way. JJ doesn’t even look at his own friends like that. He looks like he’s melting. @DramaQueen: Look at P’Net’s eyes! That’s not ‘just friends’ energy. That’s ‘I will burn the world for you’ energy. @NetFC_Official: DID THEY BREAK UP? WHY ARE THEY ACTING LIKE STRANGERS NOW? I NEED ANSWERS.

JJ stared at his phone in the back of the acoustics lab, his face a mask of cold indifference that hid a frantic, pounding heart. His peace was shattered when Ohm, Kim, and Namping burst through the door, nearly tripping over a cello case.

"JJ! Explain. Now," Ohm demanded, thrusting his phone inches from JJ’s nose.

JJ didn’t look up from his sheet music. "It’s a photo. From high school. We went to the same school. It isn’t a state secret."

"It’s not just a photo, A-JJ," Namping hissed, leaning over the table. "You two look like you’re about to start a musical number about young love. You told us you didn’t know him when we saw him at the festival last month!"

JJ finally sighed, dropping his pen. "We dated. A long time ago. We broke up before university and agreed that if we ever saw each other again, we’d act like strangers. It’s easier that way. It’s not a big deal, so drop it."

"Not a big deal?" Kim barked a laugh. "Net Siraphop is currently in the drama lounge telling a crowd of twenty people about your first date at the pancake shop. He’s literally describing the way you chew your food."

Across campus, the atmosphere was entirely different. Net was lounging on a velvet sofa, surrounded by Latte, Keng, and a dozen curious juniors.

"He was so cute back then," Net sighed dreamily, clutching his chest as if he were in the middle of a Shakespearean monologue. "He used to get so grumpy when I’d steal his snacks, but then he’d give me the last bite anyway. His cheeks were rounder then. I used to call him 'Auan' just to see his ears turn red."

Latte stared at him, horrified. "Net, you’ve been acting like he’s a stranger for two years. We thought you hated him! You told us he was just 'that guy from the music building.'"

"I was being respectful!" Net defended himself, though a mischievous glint had returned to his eyes. "But now that the secret is out... well, why should I keep pretending? The universe clearly wants us to talk."

Keng groaned. "The universe, or some bored freshman with a scanner?"

"Same thing," Net chirped, springing to his feet. "I have a sudden urge to visit the music building. I hear the acoustics are lovely this time of year."

The following week was, for JJ, a living nightmare of social engineering.

It started on Wednesday. JJ was sitting in the quietest corner of the library, tucked behind the reference section for 18th-century compositions. Suddenly, a shadow fell over his desk.

"I heard this was the best spot for studying," Net said loudly, pulling out the chair directly opposite JJ. He wasn't carrying any books—only a bag of dried mango. "But I think the view is better from this side."

JJ didn't look up. "Go away, P’Net."

"P’Net? Oh, so we’re back to titles now?" Net leaned in, his chin resting on his hand. "I missed hearing you say that, Ju. You used to say it much more sweetly when you wanted me to buy you bubble tea."

JJ’s pen stuttered on the paper. "We are in a library. And I told you to act like you don't know me."

"The contract has been voided by public interest," Net whispered, his voice dropping to a velvety register that made JJ’s skin prickle. "Besides, I forgot how much I liked annoying you."

JJ gathered his things and walked away. Net followed him all the way to the parking lot, humming a song JJ had written for a school talent show five years ago.

On Thursday, the torment intensified. JJ was at a table with Ohm and Namping when Net’s group—Latte and Keng—approached.

"Oh, look! It’s the star-crossed lovers' table," Latte announced, pulling up a chair uninvited.

"We’re just trying to eat," Namping said, though he was already pulling out his phone to record the interaction.

Net slid a carton of strawberry milk in front of JJ. "For the grumpiest boy in the faculty. I remember you hate the chocolate ones because they’re too sweet."

JJ stared at the milk. "I don't want it."

"Eat it, JJ," Keng teased. "Net spent twenty minutes picking the one with the furthest expiration date so it would be 'perfect' for you."

"I’m not hungry," JJ snapped, though his stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.

Net chuckled, leaning over to ruffle JJ’s hair. JJ swatted his hand away, but he didn't move his head until after the contact. "Don't be like that, Auan. You're cute when you're hungry, but you're even cuter when you're full."

The surrounding students were openly filming now. The "SWU Confessions" page was updated every hour: “Spotted: Net giving JJ milk. JJ looks like he wants to commit murder, but he didn't throw the milk away! Progress??”

By Friday, Net had become a "cheerful menace," as JJ’s friends called him. Net showed up at JJ’s orchestra rehearsal with a bouquet of sunflowers. He sat in the front row, clapping enthusiastically every time JJ played a single note on the violin.

"Bravo! My Ju is the best!" Net shouted during a rest period.

JJ put his violin down and marched over to the edge of the stage. "Phi, you are disrupting a formal rehearsal. Leave. Now."

"I'm just a fan of the arts, JJ," Net said, his eyes crinkling with that specific, soft warmth that JJ had tried so hard to forget. "Is it a crime to support a talented junior?"

"It is when you're being a nuisance," JJ retorted, though his ears were burning a bright, betraying red.

Net just laughed, a bright, melodic sound that filled the hall. "See you at the exit, Ju! I’ll be the one with the snacks!"

JJ turned and walked back to his seat, his heart hammering against his ribs. He hated this. He hated that Net could just waltz back in and act as if the last two years of silence hadn't happened. He hated that Net seemed so unaffected, so playful, while JJ felt like he was walking on a tightrope.

Late that evening, the sun had long since set, leaving the music building in a state of blue-tinted shadows. JJ remained in Practice Room 4, the one at the very end of the hall. He wasn't playing anymore. He was just sitting on the piano bench, staring at the keys.

The door creaked open. He didn't need to look to know who it was. The scent of Net’s expensive, woody cologne preceded him.

"You're late tonight, Auan," Net said softly. The teasing tone was gone, replaced by something heavier.

JJ didn't look up. "How did you know I was here? I didn't tell anyone."

"I know all your hiding spots," Net said, walking into the room and leaning against the piano. "You come here when you're overwhelmed. You used to do the same thing in the high school music wing. I’d find you, bring you a sweater, and wait until you were ready to talk."

JJ finally looked at him. The dim light made Net look older, his expression weary beneath the lingering smile.

"What are you doing, Phi Net?" JJ asked, his voice steady but thin. "What do you actually want from me?"

Net’s smile faded completely. He took a step closer, invading JJ’s personal space until JJ had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact.

"I think you know," Net whispered.

"I don't," JJ lied. "We had a deal. We were supposed to be strangers. You’re breaking the rules."

"The rules were stupid, JJ," Net said, his voice cracking slightly. "I agreed to them because you looked so certain. You looked like you wanted to erase me, and I loved you enough to let you do it. I thought if I stayed away, you’d be happier. But seeing that photo... seeing us like that... I realized I’ve spent two years pretending I don't breathe the same air as you, and it’s been miserable."

JJ looked away, his throat tight. "I thought you moved on. You’re always surrounded by people. You’re the star of the theater department. You looked like you didn't even remember my name."

"I remember everything," Net said, reaching out. This time, he didn't ruffle JJ’s hair. He cupped JJ’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin with a tenderness that made JJ’s breath hitch. "I never stopped loving you, Ju. Not for a single day. All the teasing, all the following you around this week... it was the only way I knew how to reach for you without being afraid you’d run away again."

JJ felt a tear prick at his eye. He realized then that his insistence on being strangers hadn't been about moving on—it had been a shield. He had been so afraid that he was the only one still hurting that he’d forced them both into a cold war.

"I'm sorry," JJ whispered, his voice trembling. "I was selfish. I thought... I thought if I didn't see you, the feeling would go away. But it didn't. Every time I saw you in the hallways, I wanted to call out to you. I hated that I was the one who made the rule."

Net leaned his forehead against JJ’s. "Then break it. Break the rule, JJ."

JJ closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of Net’s hand. "I still love you, Phi Net."

Net let out a long, shaky breath, half-laugh, half-sob. "Good. Because I was running out of strawberry milk and excuses to visit the music building."

JJ pulled back just enough to glare at him, though there was no heat in it. "You were being a menace."

"I was being a charming menace," Net corrected, then leaned in and kissed him. It was a quiet, sincere kiss, tasting of long-overdue apologies and a love that had refused to fade.

The next morning, the university’s social media landscape shifted again. Net Siraphop, who usually posted aesthetic shots of stage lights or rehearsals, uploaded a carousel of two photos.

The first was a never-before-seen photo from high school: Net and JJ asleep on a bus, JJ’s head on Net’s shoulder, their fingers laced together.

The second was a fresh selfie taken in the practice room. The lighting was poor, but the joy was unmistakable. Net was beaming at the camera, and JJ was pressed against his side, looking slightly annoyed but undeniably content, his hand resting firmly on Net’s chest.

The caption read: “I finally caught him, everyone! 🏆 The most stubborn, beautiful, and talented boy in the world is officially mine again. Sorry to everyone who had to watch me fail at flirting for a week, but the prize was worth it. I’m never letting him go back to being a ‘stranger’ again. I love you, Auan! ❤️✨ #NetJJ #Finally #MyJu”

The comments section exploded within seconds.

@Latte_Real: FINALLY. My ears can rest. Net, if you cry about him in my room one more time, I’m charging rent. Congrats, losers!

@Ohm_Music: Take care of him, P’Net. If he comes to practice crying, I’m hitting you with a cello.

@Keng_K: Look at JJ’s face in the second pic. He’s so done with you, Net. Some things never change.

@DramaJunior: THE KING HAS HIS QUEEN BACK. WE WIN!

JJ, sitting in the cafeteria with Net’s arm draped firmly around his shoulders, scrolled through the chaos. He saw the post, the ridiculous caption, and the thousands of hearts. He felt Net’s eyes on him, waiting for a reaction.

JJ tapped the comment box.

@JJ_Radchapon: You’re embarrassing, Phi. Pick me up at 4.

Net let out a delighted yelp, squeezing JJ so hard he nearly fell off the bench.

"He commented! Keng, look! He acknowledged me in public!"

JJ rolled his eyes, but as he leaned his head against Net’s shoulder, a small, genuine smile finally broke through. The yearbook photo was old news; they were starting a whole new chapter.