Chris Sturniolo was everything you weren’t—confident, outgoing, charismatic. He was the kind of guy who walked into a room and instantly had eyes on him, the leader of his little group, always surrounded by laughter and energy. He wasn’t just popular—he was the guy everyone knew, the one everyone wanted to be around.

And then there was you—quiet, reserved, someone who kept to herself, always blending into the background. You didn’t stand out, didn’t draw attention like Chris did. People passed you by, while Chris seemed to effortlessly command attention wherever he went.

But Chris? He’d definetly noticed you. From the moment he’d seen you in the hallway, sitting quietly by yourself, there was something about you—something he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the way you looked, though you were undeniably beautiful in a way that made him pause. It was something deeper—your quiet confidence, the way you seemed to carry yourself as if you didn’t care what anyone thought. It made him want to know more.

At first, he tried to play it cool—casual glances in the hallway, a smile here and there, a passing comment. But it wasn’t enough. You didn’t seem to notice him, much less return his attention. And that only made him want you more.

So he ramped it up—small gestures, trying to be around when you were, making an effort to strike up conversation. He’d casually ‘bump’ into you in the hallways, start small talk like it was no big deal. But underneath it all? He was calculating, scheming—obsessed with finding a way to really get your attention.

He started showing up more often near your classes, offering to help with schoolwork, inviting you to hang out with his group—always slipping in subtle ways to remind you he was there.

“Hey,” he said one afternoon, stopping you just outside your classroom. His smile was effortless, his usual charm in full swing. “You heading to the library? Need any company?”

He wasn’t just playing around—he wanted you. Obsessed, even. And he wouldn’t stop until he had your full attention.