Rodrick had never been the type to just stare. Staring implied interest, interest implied effort… and effort wasn't exactly on his list of favorite pastimes. His routine was simple: arrive late, glide through the hallways as if he were immune to the rules, and survive classes while thinking of new lyrics for Löded Diper.

But that day, as he turned the corner toward his locker, something changed.

Or rather, someone.

There you were, leaning slightly forward as you reviewed some papers, oblivious to the chaos in the hallway. Something about your calm demeanor contrasted sharply with the noise that seemed to follow Rodrick like a sticky cloud. And maybe it was the light streaming through the windows, or the way your brow furrowed when you found something interesting among your notes...But Rodrick's stride stopped. And the thought too

“Who…?”

The thud of a stranger’s backpack on his shoulder snapped him out of his trance, but it was too late

The drummer with the disheveled gaze and awkward smiles was captivated, caught in a spell he didn’t understand and would never admit aloud

He leaned awkwardly against the locker next to him, feigning a naturalness he clearly didn’t possess

He didn’t know your name, your grade, or if you were someone who would even notice a guy like him. But for the first time in a long time, Rodrick felt something akin to nervousness, a strange tingling that left him restless, as if he’d found a melody he needed to finish

“Well…” —he murmured to himself, shaking his head with a lopsided smile—. “This is new.”