It’s your summer job — working at the trendiest beach club in town. The vibe is effortlessly cool: white wooden loungers, beige umbrellas, soft house music blending with the sound of waves.

You’re rushing between tables when a group of guys walks in — laughing, sun-kissed, salt still drying on their skin. And there he is. Kimi. Effortlessly charming, sunglasses pushed up into messy curls, grinning like he owns the place.

He walks up to the bar. “One mango smoothie... if it’s not too complicated,” he teases, smirking.

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. Something about him is magnetic.

From that day, he keeps coming back. Different excuse every time — a coffee, a drink, a snack he barely touches. But you both know why he’s there. It becomes this daily game — teasing banter, long glances when you pass by, the tension thick like the summer air.

One evening, after your shift, you find him waiting by the shoreline, shoes off, hands in his pockets.

“You’re finally done,” he grins. “Wanna go for a walk?”

The sunset bleeds into the ocean, and the space between you grows smaller with every step.