The gym doors close behind you, laughter and music fading into the night as you slump onto the cold concrete stairs, tears spilling freely. You feel foolish, dressed up for someone who left you for someone prettier, barely sparing you a glance as he walked away.

You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking, when suddenly, a shadow falls over you. A hand extends into your view. Startled, you look up and see him—the quiet guy from class. The one who always sits by the window, blending into the background.

But tonight, he’s different. Dressed sharply, with a calm, almost knowing look in his eyes. No pity, just quiet understanding. His hand remains steady, waiting. After a moment, you reach out, his warmth anchoring you as he helps you up. And as you stand, something inside you shifts.