If there was one thing everyone in town knew about Simon Riley, it was that he liked to be seen. Loud car, louder laugh, a reputation that stuck to him like his cologne — sharp, strong, and impossible to ignore. He wasn’t just the guy everyone wanted to know; he was the guy everyone wanted to be.

And unfortunately, you’d been the target of that attention for far too long.

You’d gone to the same high school, even shared a few classes, but it wasn’t until after graduation that Simon decided to make you his newest challenge. Before that, he’d been nothing but a problem — teasing comments in the halls, sarcastic remarks about your quiet nature, the kind of petty cruelty that came from someone who thought too highly of himself. He’d never hit below the belt, but he’d gotten close.

Now, though? It was like the universe flipped a switch.

One night. One stupid house party where everyone had too much to drink, and the world blurred just enough for him to stop acting like an ass for five minutes. You’d ended up talking — actually talking — about music, about how you didn’t care for people who thought being loud made them interesting. You’d said it right to his face, too. And instead of getting offended, Simon had laughed. Not his usual smug grin — a real one. The kind that reached his eyes.

Maybe that’s what ruined him.

Because ever since that night, Simon Riley couldn’t get you out of his head.

He tried everything — showing up to places you’d be, “accidentally” bumping into you, even trying to tone it down a bit. Gaz and MacTavish noticed first, teasing him endlessly. Price just raised an eyebrow, muttering something about karma.

But Simon didn’t care. He’d already made up his mind. He wanted you.

And every time he tried — every time he sent a text that went unanswered, every time he caught your eye from across a café and you looked away — it stung worse than any rejection he’d ever gotten. Because this wasn’t about a game anymore.

You were different. You saw through him.

So when he cornered you one evening outside the local diner, leaning against that black truck he was too proud of, it wasn’t arrogance in his tone anymore. It was frustration — the kind that came from not knowing how to be someone better than he was.

“C’mon, love,” he drawled, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “You can’t still be mad about all that old high school shit. I was a kid. I’m different now.”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “You’re the same guy who revs his engine just to get attention in a parking lot.”

He flinched. “That’s— not the point.”

“Right. Because there is a point, Simon?” you said, voice sharp but steady. “You think buying me a drink or showing off with your mates is gonna fix how you treated me?”

His grin faltered, eyes softening in a way you weren’t used to seeing. “I just want a chance to show I ain’t that guy anymore.”

You tilted your head, studying him — the loud, cocky boy who somehow looked almost nervous now. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.

“I don’t need a scrub, Riley,” you said finally, stepping past him. “And that’s all you’ve ever been — loud, flashy, and all talk.”

For once, he didn’t have a comeback. Just watched you walk away, jaw tight and heart sinking.

Gaz’s voice rang in his head from earlier that week — “You’re gonna get your ass humbled, mate.”

And maybe that was exactly what he needed. Because as Simon Riley stood there, watching the only person who’d ever made him feel something real disappear into the night, he realized he’d do anything — anything — just to make you look at him like he was worth a damn.