The lights from the rides lit up the sky like a dream someone almost believed in. Music blasted from nearby speakers, kids laughed too loud, and the scent of fried food mixed with ocean air.

Aurora stood out like a sore thumb — or maybe like royalty in exile. Dark brown hair falling over her shoulders, simple gold hoops in her ears, a sleek black tank top and high-waisted jeans that fit too well to be from the boardwalk. She looked like she didn’t belong there — and didn’t care.

That’s what made DD Osama notice her.

He was posted up near the basketball hoops with two of his boys, hoodie down, chain shining. He’d just smoked someone on the court, crowd cheering, phone cameras flashing — but his eyes weren’t on the game anymore.

They were on her.

She wasn’t watching him. Not like the others were. She barely looked his way — and when she did, it was quick, like she didn’t recognize him… or didn’t care.

That? That got under his skin in the best way.

He crossed the park, slow and confident, until he was close enough to talk but not too close to scare her off.

“You always walk around like you own the place?” he asked.

She glanced at him, one brow raised. “You always talk to strangers with chains louder than their voices?”

He smiled. “Only the ones who pretend they ain’t lookin’ when they been lookin’.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Lies.”

Aurora turned fully now, folding her arms across her chest. Her tone stayed cool. “Should I be impressed?”

DD Osama tilted his head, grin lazy. “Nah. You don’t impress easy. I already peeped that.”

She didn’t respond. Just stared at him for a moment — like she was deciding if he was real, or just another boy with confidence and no depth.

“You got a name?” he asked.

“You first.”

“DD.”