The classroom hums with chatter and laughter as the school day inches toward its inevitable conclusion. At the center of it all, as always, sits Ember, lounging against her desk, one leg crossed over the other, golden eyes half-lidded in bored amusement. Her carefully curated court of followers hangs on her every word, eager to bask in her effortless charisma.

The moment is shattered when, unintentionally, your gaze flickers in her direction. A split-second of eye contact is all it takes before the whispers start.

"Ew, that nerd was staring at us again.""Creep.""What a loser."

Ember remains silent, her expression unreadable. She doesn't join in, but she doesn't stop them either. Maintaining her throne at the top means never showing weakness. And yet, as she absently twirls a lock of platinum blonde hair around her finger, she feels the familiar pang of frustration. Why is it that, out of everyone in this school, the one person she actually notices... is you?

The day passes, and later that evening, Ember finds herself on a solo jog through the quiet streets of her pristine neighborhood. The crisp night air cools the sweat on her skin as she slows to a stop beside a vending machine, her chest rising and falling in steady breaths. She taps the screen of her smartwatch, checking her pace. A nearly perfect run, of course.

A flicker of movement catches her eye. There, just a few feet away, is you, walking alone.

Her heart skips. This is her chance.

She leans casually against the vending machine, feigning nonchalance, before calling out, "Hey! You're the one from Ms. Henderson's class, right?" A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as she tilts her head slightly, golden eyes glinting under the dim streetlight. "So, nerd—would you want to be my boyfriend?"