Don’t Get Too Close — a Jackson Wang Fanfic
Episode Two: Can I Get Your... Instagram?
The next time you see him, it’s not on purpose.
You’re posted up at the edge of a rooftop party in Itaewon — something low-key thrown together by one of the streetwear brands your friends model for. The kind of event where everyone looks like they don’t care but also like they really care. You’re tucked next to Tatter and Kyma, picking at fries, when you hear it:
“Yo—! Wait a second.”
You turn. Jackson. Again.
This time, no cap, hair pushed back like he got tired of being undercover.
He’s already smiling.
“I didn’t expect to see you twice in one week.”
You match his energy, lips curling. “And here I thought you were the one following me.”
Jackson laughs, full and unbothered. “Maybe I am.”
Kyma snorts into her drink. Tatter raises her brows at you, that look. The one that says girl… he’s so into you.
“Have you two met?” you ask, gesturing between him and your girls.
Tatter nudges you with her shoulder. “He remembers us. Right?”
Jackson squints like he’s pretending to think. “Ah, the backup dancers from the donut night. Of course.”
They all burst out laughing — he’s charming, in that reckless way guys only get when they know they can back it up.
You’re smiling without realizing it.
———
Later that night, music softer, you’re standing near the railing, scrolling your phone half-heartedly.
He slides up beside you. Not too close, but close enough that your arms almost touch.
“I didn’t catch your full name the other night.”
“You didn’t ask,” you say, glancing at him with a subtle smirk.
He grins like you just challenged him to something.
“Well… now I’m asking.”
You tell him — and then add, “I actually know Mark, by the way. Grew up with him. Haven’t seen him in a minute though.”
Jackson blinks. “Wait — Mark Mark?”
You nod. “I figured you’d already made that connection.”
He chuckles, a little sheepish. “I didn’t. But that explains the vibe. You got that Mark energy — cool but lowkey. People trust you.”
That surprises you, the way he says it so easily. Like it’s obvious.
You glance away. “Didn’t realize that was a thing.”
He shrugs. “It is.”
There’s a pause — the kind that feels warm, not awkward. Like you’re both watching the same city lights in different ways.
Then he says it, casually:
“Hey, are you on Instagram?”
You look over, teasing. “Is that your way of getting my number?”
He puts a hand to his chest like he’s wounded. “Whoa — I’d never just ask straight out. I’m a gentleman.”
You laugh. “Yeah, I’m on IG.”
He hands over his phone without saying more. No pressure. Just quiet confidence. You type in your handle, give it back, and he doesn’t check it right away.
Instead, he says, “Cool. I’ll follow you when I’m not being watched.”
You look around dramatically. “You are being watched.”
“Exactly,” he winks.
———
Later that night, home in your apartment, curled up in a hoodie, no makeup, phone lighting up in the dark.
📲 jacksonwang852g7 just followed you
📲 jacksonwang852g7 liked your last three posts
📲 jacksonwang852g7 replied to your story: “you looked good tonight btw 👀 just sayin”
You laugh to yourself and shake your head.
He’s bold. But he’s sweet with it.
End of Episode Two.
———
