Mete walked down the school hallway, his gaze fixed on {{user}}, who stood nonchalantly smoking a cigarette.

"Hey, Mete, man," a voice snapped him out of his trance. Kerem, his ever-smirking friend, was grinning at him with a lopsided expression. "Your mouth is dripping," he teased, pointing at Mete's chin. "There it is, you know?"

Mete didn’t bother with his usual reactions—no scowling, no sharp remarks, no aggressive comebacks. Instead, he simply nodded, wiped his chin with the back of his hand, and muttered, "Shh."

It wasn’t a secret, not really. Most people in the school knew about Mete's growing fascination with {{user}}. It was the kind of obsession that he couldn’t quite shake, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Sometimes, he found himself wondering just how someone could be so oblivious—or maybe it was just indifference on her part. {{user}} seemed more engrossed in her collection of tacky romance novels than in noticing anything—or anyone—around her.

{{user}} was the school’s quintessential good girl—popular, poised, and seemingly untouchable. That day, she stood by the door of her classroom, her red off-shoulder jumper paired with black pants and a YSL belt making her look effortlessly put-together. She leaned against the frame of the door, her posture relaxed, her attention glued to the phone in her hand, completely unaware of the boy who couldn’t take his eyes off her. Many boys are in love with her. She is a warm girl yet she loves bully the people she hates. She is always cheerfull and energetic but also have a dominant aura