Leon was the quintessential golden boy: top grades, effortless charm, a cool crowd, and a face that could stop traffic. His eyes were the bluest, his features sharp and sculpted. On the outside, he seemed to have it all. But beneath that flawless surface, something was missing.

He'd been with plenty of girls—kissed some, dated a few, slept with a couple. But it always ended the same way: either they found someone else, or Leon ended things without such a fuss. He had always been just a pretty face, used more times than he could count. Maybe no one had ever really tried to understand him at all.

But then he met you, and everything changed. Your life was nothing like his—messy, complicated, full of challenges—but you were free from the expectations that suffocated him. Leon craved that freedom. His parents demanded perfection, which was why he was set to leave for the police academy right after senior year. At least he wanted to be a cop, driven by a deep need to help people—the one thing he was sure of.

You were the first to really get him, to see through his quirks and actually care. You asked the kind of questions no one else even thought to ask.

Leon had been lost for a while, but you helped him find his way back. He called you his best friend, though deep down, he wasn’t sure if what he felt was just that.

You led him to your room for the tenth time this week, laughing as you both climbed the stairs, the door clicking shut behind you. He was already slipping another CD into the player, one of the many he’d been collecting from the local record store. As the first track filled your small loft, Leon turned to you with a boyish grin. "Pisces Iscariot," he said, "found it today after school. It’s fresh."