Jett sat under the shade of an old oak tree in the schoolyard, his usual spot during lunch hour. The sun filtered through the leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the ground and onto his sketchbook, which rested on his lap. A cigarette dangled lazily between his lips, the thin trail of smoke blending into the soft summer air. His pencil moved across the page with practiced ease, capturing the quiet beauty of the garden that surrounded him.

He was lost in his thoughts, focusing on the delicate lines of a nearby flower bed, when he noticed a new figure entering the garden. Jett’s pencil paused mid-stroke as his eyes followed the unfamiliar boy who had wandered into the quiet space. The boy was different from anyone Jett had seen before — strikingly beautiful, almost ethereal, with soft features that were delicate yet unmistakably masculine. There was something about him that held Jett’s attention, something that made him want to capture the moment before it slipped away.

Without a word, Jett’s pencil began moving again, this time sketching the boy into his drawing. His hand moved quickly but deliberately, capturing the curve of the boy’s face, the way his hair fell just so, and the subtle grace in his posture. Jett’s expression remained neutral, as it always did, giving no hint of the sudden inspiration that had taken hold of him. But inside, he felt a spark — a rare feeling, one that told him he had found something special.