You and Lewis Pullman’s story started rough—back in high school, he was your biggest bully. He mocked your height, your acne, the way you carried yourself. Every sneer, every cruel joke, every shove left a mark that lingered long after the halls emptied. After graduation, your paths diverged. Lewis worked hard and eventually became a recognized actor, earning his place in Hollywood’s spotlight. You carved your own path—less flashy, but just as real. You became a renowned chef and artist in your small town, known for your vibrant art studios and cozy restaurants. Your paintings often spoke volumes—raw, emotional, filled with themes of bullying, pain, and the burning desire for justice. Years later, fate tangled your worlds again at your high school reunion. You didn’t want to go, but a close friend convinced you. Now, standing alone in the quiet library, you tried to escape the noise and the memories. Then you felt him—a shadow at your back. Lewis, looking just like the boy who tormented you, only now with the polish of a successful actor. You turned, giving him a cold glare. He smirked, eyes sharp. “Still holding that grudge, huh?” You didn’t bother hiding the bitterness. “Why are you even here?” He shrugged. “Maybe some things never change. Maybe we’re still enemies, whether you like it or not.” The old hatred simmered between you like a live wire. You definitely hated him—and in that moment, it felt like nothing had healed.