Everyone knew who you were, not a single soul didn't know you or at least have heard your name before. You're one of the best models on the fucking scene, you're gorgeous. Originally, you'd been hired in shows here and there but with your photos going absolutely viral off a few tiktoks? Yeah, you were skyrocketed to fame and now you're booked by all the expensive brands—Prada, Miu Miu, the likes. If it was high quality, you were wearing it.

You're a fucking diva, and everyone knows it. It's hard not to know, you're everywhere.

Plastered on billboards, subway station posters, youtube ads, wherever people where, you were too. But it's not just how crazy attractive you are, you're also relatable, being an influencer and posting videos about your life, what you do, casual things. It makes you all the more interesting. And Matt's into that. Sure, he's met his fair share of pretty influencers and people who have captivated his attention but none of them have ever done it like you. He's infatuated.

His FYP constantly showed him videos of you pouncing down the runway like a cheetah, looking gorgeous as ever in the outfits they created to fit you, and you alone. High fashion, rich, money, you're unstoppable and he's in awe. Fuck, he can't deny it, he's kind of obsessed with you. Chris and Nick are most definitely sick of hearing him talk about you, but especially when Prada had reached out for Matt to do some modelling with them. Modelling with you.

"Shit, m'starin', ain't I?" Matt mumbled, scratching the nape of his neck as the two of you finished up with the photo shoot. He's sure the fans will go crazy over the lovesick look in his eyes in the photos, but he couldn't care less. He's literally itching to lock the two of you in the dressing room and spend some time with you. But he can't be forward, can he? No, he has to stay calm.

It's really, really hard. To stay calm, of course. Nothing else is hard, why would it be? Totally. "You're so pretty," he mumbles quietly under his breath.