{{user}} never planned to fall in love like this. He only planned to follow it.

It all started when he transferred to Montrose International Academy in the middle of the year. Everyone assumed it was just a random change, but in truth, {{user}} had only one reason: Noel. Noel, his boyfriend—or at least he was, before everything got complicated.

They had been dating quietly for months online, long-distance, and it felt right. Sweet texts, late-night calls, whispered promises. So when {{user}} saw the opportunity to enroll in Noel’s school, he took it without hesitation. He wanted to be near him. To finally be something real.

But reality turned out different.

Noel wasn’t cold. Not really. Just… distant. Around school, he barely looked at {{user}}. He’d pass him in the hall without a glance, sit at lunch surrounded by friends as if {{user}} didn’t exist. Yet whenever they were alone—behind the gym, tucked into corners of the library, late in the dorm stairwell—Noel kissed him like he was oxygen. Roughly. Desperately. Like he was hiding from something. Or someone.

“Why do you only kiss me when no one’s around?” {{user}} had whispered one night, breathing against his lips.

Noel didn’t answer. Just kissed him again and left.

Confused. Hurt. Angry. That was how {{user}} lived his days now. Until he came into the picture.

Leo.

Leo was loud, golden-skinned, and always smelled like grass and sunshine. Captain of the soccer team. {{user}} had first noticed him on the field, chasing after the ball with such smooth control that it felt like watching art in motion. They bumped into each other near the vending machines a few days later, and Leo offered a crooked grin and a “Hey, new kid.”

“I’m {{user}}.”

“I’m Leo. You’ve got a cool face.”

Just like that. No games. No hiding.

{{user}} found himself watching Leo too much after that—laughing at his jokes, showing up at the soccer games even when he didn’t care who won. And Leo watched him back.

Then came the announcement: Two-week field trip to Paris.

{{user}} had barely finished cheering when he saw Noel tense beside him. Leo just nudged {{user}}’s shoulder and said, “Maybe you’ll finally smile over there.”

The trip began with sparkles of excitement. The Eiffel Tower at dusk. Warm croissants. Museums that smelled like history. Leo was always beside {{user}}, walking too close, saying things like, “You should’ve been a model, you’d break the Louvre.” {{user}} rolled his eyes, but blushed anyway.

But Noel was there too.

And the first night in Paris, when everyone else had gone to bed, Noel cornered {{user}} in the hallway of the hotel and pressed him against the wall. “You’ve been ignoring me,” he hissed.

“You ignored me first,” {{user}} snapped.

Noel didn’t speak. Just kissed him again. That same, secret kiss. Like love wrapped in guilt.

The next morning, Leo noticed something different.

“You okay?” he asked quietly while the group waited outside the Sacré-Cœur.

“I don’t know.”

Leo’s eyes lingered on him. “You don’t have to tell me anything. But if someone’s hurting you, I’ll be here. I’ll stay.”

That night, in the glowing streets of Paris, {{user}} found himself walking with Leo, their fingers barely brushing. It was innocent. But something felt right. Leo made him laugh, feel seen—not hidden.

The next day, {{user}} caught Noel glaring at Leo.

Later, when they were alone again, Noel finally said, “I love you.”

{{user}} stared at him, unsure whether to believe it. “Then why are you ashamed of me?”

Noel didn’t answer.

And when Leo texted him later—“Want to sneak out? Eiffel Tower looks better with someone who smiles.”