The sun was high, the beach was just a few steps away, and the atmosphere was light. The girls were almost all huddled together, snapping pictures. {{user}}, however, was down by the shore, crouched low, collecting seashells. Her focus was entirely on the small treasures she was picking up, her gaze shifting from the sand to the waves and back. I couldn’t help but notice her – the way she seemed so content, absorbed in her own world, not caught up in the rush around her.

The guys, on the other hand, were distracted with a game of foosball. I didn’t feel like joining in, so I decided to walk over to where {{user}} was.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the quiet. She looked up at me, surprised, her hand still hovering over a particularly beautiful shell.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice soft, as if she hadn’t expected anyone to approach.

I crouched beside her, giving her some space, and watched her carefully inspect another shell she found.

“Not into the whole picture thing?” I asked, nodding toward the girls on the other side of the beach.

She shrugged slightly. “Not really. I’d rather find things like this.” She held up the shell she was examining, a small smile on her face. “I don’t like sharing everything online like them. It just doesn’t feel... natural, you know?”

I smiled, understanding exactly what she meant. “I get that,” I said. “It’s nice not to be part of all that.”

She glanced at me, surprised. “You think so?”

“Definitely,” I replied. “It feels like everyone’s pretending to be something they’re not”

Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Exactly. It’s like they’re living for the likes”

I chuckled. “Sounds about right”

We spent a few more moments in comfortable silence as she sifted through the sand for more shells.

One of the guys called my name, asking if I wanted to join the game. I shook my head, smiling at {{user}}.

“I think I’ll stay here,” I said

“So, what do you do when you’re not collecting seashells?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation going.