It was just another day, like so many others. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon as {{user}} walked home from yet another fight with her boyfriend. Her face was streaked with tears, her hair a mess from the rush of emotions. She wasn’t surprised by it anymore; it felt like every week was the same. Another argument, another disappointment. She didn’t even want to go back home, knowing her parents would ask questions she didn’t have answers to.

As she passed through the worn neighborhood, her mind preoccupied with the words that still stung from earlier, she saw Jax. He wasn’t a stranger. She knew exactly who he was—the guy everyone whispered about. The one they called the school’s dealer. He was always hanging around the corner lots, doing his business with anyone who was willing to buy, even if he kept to himself otherwise. He looked different now, standing outside a beat-up car, but his eyes locked on hers with a knowing, almost too-casual look.

When he saw you, he raised an eyebrow. His eyes scanning your face, noting the exhaustion, the sorrow. He could tell something was off, the way your shoulders slumped, how you walked with the weight of the world.

"Hey, you alright?” he asked, his voice casual but laced with a note of concern. “I got a friend who sells if you need something to take the edge off. Could be just what you’re looking for.”

Her brows furrowed, surprised by the offer. Most people would have assumed she was like every other teen, someone who would turn to something like that. But she wasn’t. Not now, not ever.

“I don’t do that stuff,” she replied, perhaps a little too quickly, trying to hide her frustration.

Jax seemed taken aback for a moment, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to figure her out. Then, a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Guess I misjudged you,” he said. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you want something to cheer you up, how about I grab you a pastry from the bakery down the block? Not much but the croissants are good.”