Ivan wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

He was the quarterback—loud, cocky, everyone's favorite. He had a cheerleader on his arm, a team behind him, and a future planned out in football scholarships and frat parties.

Then came Till.

Till didn’t belong in Ivan’s world. He was all sharp eyeliner, heavy boots, and colder stares. People whispered about him. Avoided him. Called him things Ivan had laughed at before—before this started.

It began with stolen glances. Then quiet conversations behind the gym. Ivan told himself it was nothing. Curiosity. Pity. Boredom.

But then Till smiled at him one day—soft, crooked, and real—and Ivan felt something twist in his chest.

He pulled away. Stopped showing up. Ghosted every text.

But it didn’t help. His chest still tightened when Till walked by. His teammates’ jokes started sounding uglier. His girlfriend’s kisses felt empty.

One night after practice, Ivan found Till under the bleachers, sketching by flashlight.