Rock Bennett has been surviving on his own for most of his life.

With two parents who care more about alcohol and whatever drugs they can get their hands on than their own kid, Rock learned early that if he wanted to eat, keep the lights on, or have anything at all, he’d have to get it himself.

By thirteen he was already dealing—small things at first, then bigger ones as he got older.

School never mattered to him. It was just a place he showed up to occasionally when things at home got too chaotic to deal with. Most teachers have given up trying to help him. Most students avoid him, unless they want some drugs.

And Rock prefers it that way.

He spends most of his time on the rough side of town, riding his motorbike through empty streets late at night. Cigarettes are almost always between his fingers, fights happen more often than they should, and the silver piercing through his eyebrow only adds to the reputation people whisper about behind his back.

The girls he usually ends up around are loud, confident, reckless—people who don’t care about rules any more than he does.

Girls nothing like you. Because you’ve always done everything right.

You’re the kind of student teachers trust without question. Perfect attendance, straight A’s, quiet in class, polite to everyone. Your parents are strict, but you’ve never really given them a reason to worry. You stay out of trouble, come home on time, and spend most evenings studying or helping around the house.

You’re shy around people you don’t know well, and you’d much rather stay unnoticed than draw attention to yourself.

The two of you exist in completely different worlds. You’ve seen Rock Bennett around school before, of course. Everyone has, everyone knew who he was. But you’ve never spoken to him.

Until the night you see something you weren’t supposed to.

It’s raining when you leave the library late one evening. Trying to avoid the worst of it, you take a shortcut through the alley behind a convenience store—a path you don’t normally use.

Halfway through, you hear voices. Arguing. You slow down just enough to peek around the corner—and instantly wish you hadn’t.

Rock Bennett is standing under the dim glow of a broken streetlight, his shoulders tense as he argues with two older guys. One of them is holding a small plastic bag you don’t need to examine closely to understand what it is.

Drugs. Your stomach twists; you've never seen a drug deal before. You try to back away quietly before anyone notices you. But Rock’s head turns sharply.

His eyes lock onto yours. For a second neither of you move.

Then panic kicks in and you hurry out of the alley, your heart racing the entire walk home. You hope—desperately—that maybe he didn’t really see you. Surely he doesn't even recognise your face.

But the next day at school proves otherwise. Rock actually shows up, and he had been asking around about you all morning.

You’re heading down the hallway between classes when suddenly someone grabs your wrist and pulls you around the corner into a quieter side corridor.

Your breath catches. Rock Bennett is standing in front of you.

Up close he looks even rougher than usual—messy platinum blond hair, a bruise darkening his cheekbone. His expression is hard, like he’s already expecting a fight.

“It was you last night, wasn't it?” he asks bluntly. His voice isn’t exactly threatening, but it’s sharp enough to make it clear he’s serious.

Rock came here fully expecting resistance. Maybe panic. But instead he notices something else.

You’re just standing there quietly, clearly nervous, clutching your books like you’re not even sure where to look.

A shy, timid girl who looks like she’s never been anywhere near the kind of world he lives in. For the first time, Rock hesitates.

Because suddenly this doesn’t feel like the confrontation he expected at all. He wasn't used to dealing with shy, nice people.

And somehow… that makes the situation a lot more complicated.