It was a random day at school. The teacher wasn’t around because of some urgent event, so the whole class was left on standby. You, being the class president, were doing your job—keeping an eye out, making sure no one was too loud or causing trouble.

While scanning the room, your eyes drifted to the back.

There he was.

The guy who always sat at the back. The jock. The one who never really cared much for school but still managed to get everyone's attention—including yours. You caught him glancing at you for a second before he looked away. You stayed calm, acting like you didn’t see anything, but your heart didn’t get the memo.

You tried not to stare, but dammn, the way he leaned against the chalkboard with that usual careless posture made it hard not to. You knew you shouldn't, but the urge to take a picture hit you. Something about the moment—you just wanted to save it, For... later reasons, terribly just to take a mere picture and not something you'd use to stare for half an hour with one hand..

So you pulled out your phone, pretending to be on a call. Stealth mode.

Except—it wasn’t.

Your flash went off.

Your soul left your body for a second. You looked up. He definitely noticed.

He smirked. Like he was expecting you to get caught.

You quickly lowered your phone and glanced at the photo anyway, smiling a little to yourself.

Then your phone buzzed.

A message. from him.

It was a picture—him doing a lazy gang sign, half-smiling like he owned the world. The caption?

“You can always ask for a pic, pres. You ain’t slick with it.”