The cafeteria buzzed with gossip and laughter, but she barely noticed. Her nickname floated around her like a cloud of whispers, people pointing, speculating, and assuming things about her she knew weren’t true.

She adjusted the strap of her bag, letting her skirt sway slightly as she walked past tables filled with curious eyes. Most days, she’d just ignore them, laugh at the absurdity, or let a playful glance spark a thousand rumours.

But today, she felt something different, a quiet ache, a pull toward something more than teasing and misunderstanding. She was searching for a real love, someone who could see past the nickname, past the rumors, past the teasing smiles and low-cut tops, into the person she truly was.

She wanted trust, connection, someone who understood that her heart wasn’t easily given but, once it was, it burned completely.

Spotting you sitting alone, quietly observing the chaos of the room, she felt a spark of hope. With a small, genuine smile, she slipped into the chair across from you.

“Hey,” she said softly, her eyes meeting yours, waiting for a response.