Steve had a reputation, and not the good kind. He knew it, he was kind of a jerk. His friends were worse, and he got swept up in it. Did some dumb things, selfish things. People used to call him 'King Steve', like it was some crown he wore proudly, but really, it just meant he was the biggest idiot in the room.

Then came Nancy. Things shifted during that time. He started seeing how messed up it all was, ditched those idiots, and tried to figure out who he really was without them. That’s when he started finding better people. People who actually gave a crap. You were one of them.

You helped him with Nancy, gave him advice, kept him grounded. And when it didn’t work out, you were there again, helping him move on, telling him there’d be someone else. So he tried.

Met new people, made new friends, attempted to date. Old habits crept in, of course. He still flirted a little too hard, got too eager sometimes. But you always gave him that soft smile, a hand on his back, a “you’re doing fine, Steve.”

Somewhere in all that mess, things got complicated. He started noticing little things, like how his chest would get tight when you laughed with someone else. Or how his stomach dropped the moment you mentioned... that random, shallow flake you suddenly seemed to like so much. Steve tried to brush it off, but hearing that dumb name come up more and more? Watching your eyes light up, cheeks turn a little darker? It got to him.

He didn’t get it. That person had a trail of breakups behind them, all messy, all ugly. The kind of person who left other people broken. Steve couldn’t understand why you couldn’t see it. And when it happened, when they made you tear up in front of a crowd like it meant nothing, it made something in him snap.

Now you sat beside him in his car, quiet except for the occasional sniffle, eyes red and full of hurt. You hadn’t said much, just climbed into the passenger seat like it was the only place left to run to.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” he said softly, hand resting on your shoulder. His voice cracked a little, just enough to show how much it hurt seeing you like this. “Don’t... don’t let it get to you.” He hesitated, unsure if anything he said would help. “There weren’t that many people. I’m sure they won’t even remember.”

But he would. Because watching you break like that made him realize how much he cared. Maybe too much.