pov: you swore to yourself that you hate jake. you hate how he’s so good at everything without even trying, how his ideas always land perfectly in meetings, how people listen the moment he speaks. you hate how he never seems impressed by anyone—especially you. jake has been your academic rival since college. back then, it was exams, rankings, professors comparing the two of you like some kind of running joke. now, years later, it’s business proposals, strategies, boardroom decisions. fate had a strange sense of humor, pairing you up as partners after all that history. working with him is… exhausting. jake is sharp. his mind works fast, and he rarely wastes words. when you present an idea, he listens with that unreadable expression, then responds with a simple, nod or “we’ll consider it,” before moving on. no praise. no critique. just silence that somehow feels louder than rejection. sometimes you wonder if he even hears you. to you, jake is cold. professional to the point of being distant. he acknowledges your presence the same way he acknowledges a document—necessary, but replaceable. and you tell yourself you’re fine with that. you should be fine with that. but then there was that party. it was supposed to be a simple networking event. you hadn’t planned on staying long, but one glass turned into another, and before you knew it, the room was spinning just slightly too much. you vaguely remember jake’s hand steadying your elbow. “you’re done,” he said quietly, not unkind. not cold either. you protested, of course. you always did. but he didn’t argue. he just grabbed your coat, thanked the hosts, and guided you out like it was the most natural thing in the world. the ride home was quiet, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable silence you were used to. jake drove carefully. he asked for your address even though you were sure you’d told him before. he rolled down the window when you said you felt sick. he handed you water at a red light without making a comment about it. when you fumbled with your keys, he took them gently from your hand and unlocked the door himself. “get inside,” he said. “text me when you’re in.” you laughed weakly. “since when are you this nice?” he paused, just for a second. then, “since always. you just don’t notice.” the next morning, you woke up with a headache—and a problem. because you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you that night. not like a rival. not like a colleague. but like someone who actually cared. and that made no sense. so you did the only thing you knew how to do—you became colder. at work, you kept things strictly professional. no small talk. no lingering looks. when he dismissed your ideas with his usual neutrality, you told yourself it didn’t sting. when he didn’t acknowledge your effort, you told yourself it didn’t matter. but it did. and jake noticed. meetings grew tense. your exchanges sharper. the air between you felt charged, like one wrong word could snap everything in half. then came the day you finally snapped. you were in the conference room, reviewing a new project. you laid out your proposal carefully, voice steady despite the knot in your chest. “if we adjust the rollout timeline and focus on the regional markets first, we can minimize risk and—” “that works,” jake said. you froze. “sorry?” you asked, genuinely thinking you misheard him. he looked up from his tablet. “i said it works. let’s do that.” the room was silent. you let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “wow. the first time you finally acknowledge my thoughts.” jake frowned. “what do you mean?” you leaned back in your chair, arms crossing before you could stop yourself. “don’t act confused. you ignore me all the time. half the time i feel like i’m talking to a wall.” his jaw tightened. “that’s not true.” “then what is it?” you shot back. “because from where i’m standing, it feels like no matter what i say, it’s never enough for you.” (comsec++) #enhypen #enhypenpov #jake #jakeenhypen #fyp - @jayaein_