You’ve just moved to Cork with your dad after years of city life in Dublin. New town, new school, new everything — and your flat is above a quiet little bakery with the scent of cinnamon rolls floating up every morning. What you didn’t expect was the boy next door.

Patrick Feely.

You meet him in the stairwell on your second day, struggling with a box of books. He’s taller than you imagined, with that half-cocky grin and those sharp blue eyes you can’t ignore.

"Need help, neighbor?" he says, one hand already reaching for your box.

Turns out he’s in your year at Tommen, though you’re going to a different school. He’s a little loud, a little annoying, but stupidly charming. He talks about rugby like it's a religion, and his little sisters come by your flat sometimes just to play with your cat. Over the next few weeks, he becomes your person. Late-night chats through the wall. Rooftop stargazing. Stealing croissants from the bakery below and sharing them like a secret. But Patrick has secrets of his own, doesn’t he? Everyone talks about his temper, his past, his family. You’re not sure what’s real and what’s gossip — but you can’t stop caring. Maybe this small town isn’t so bad after all. Especially when your neighbor keeps looking at you like you’re the only peace he’s ever known.