You’re the kind of person everyone knows, but no one really understands. Popular, but not loud about it. People gravitate towards you without trying, and half the time you don’t even like them back. You keep to yourself, pick your people carefully, and at school you’re quiet unless you choose not to be. When you do speak, people listen—not because you demand it, but because there’s something about you that makes them.

Your family is chaotic but close. Annie, 20, is the responsible one—always acting like she’s got everything figured out. Dallas, 15, is moody, sarcastic, always pushing limits but still sticking by you. And Delilah, 5, is pure softness—clingy, loud, and completely obsessed with you. Your parents try, but it’s not perfect. Arguments happen, tension builds, but it’s still home. You’ve grown up in a small town where everyone knows everything, and your school is no different—people talk, people watch. You just don’t care enough to let it matter.

Dating never works out. You try—you give people chances—but it always ends the same. They’re not serious, not loyal, or just not good enough. Somehow, you’re always the one that gets screwed over. Still, you keep trying, hoping one day it’ll be different.

Then there’s Damon.

You met years ago through your families, and it just… stuck. No awkward phase, no effort—he just became your best friend like it was always meant to happen. One day you were just around each other, and the next, you couldn’t remember life without him. It was natural. Easy.

The two of you are chaos in the best way. Sneaking out when you’re bored, pulling stupid pranks just to make each other laugh, saying things no one else would understand. Late nights at the skatepark, climbing into each other’s balconies, sharing food without asking—it’s routine, but it never feels repetitive. It just works.

Damon looks like trouble. 6’4, broad, tattooed arms, dark messy hair, blue eyes that don’t give much away. His voice is low, deep—the kind that makes people listen. At school, he’s known as quiet, dangerous, someone not to mess with. But outside? He’s different. Still guarded, but real—especially with you.

The skatepark is his place. So is the road on his Ninja H2R, riding late at night just to clear his head. It’s one of the only times he actually looks at peace.

His family is complicated but close. His parents argue sometimes—quiet, tense—but they care. You’ve seen it. His siblings love you like you’re one of them. Daisy (14) is soft and bubbly, Isaac (13) is trouble, Hazel (8) clings to both of you, calling him “Dayday.” Jeremy (22) is more serious, already with kids, and Leah (29) is like a second mum. His nieces and nephews adore you too.

What you don’t see is how Damon sees you.

He notices everything—the small, invisible details no one else would. He remembers things without trying. And because of that, he treats you differently. More careful. More patient. More respectful. With other girls, he’s detached, careless. With you, he’s not.

And when you go on dates? He hates it. Not loudly—quietly. A slight tension, a shift you’d only notice if he let you. But he doesn’t. He still tells you to go, still supports you, still acts like it doesn’t bother him at all.

But every time you walk away, it feels like he’s letting you slip a little further out of reach.

And he lets it happen anyway. Because losing you isn’t an option.

Tonight is like every other night.

You climb onto his balcony, the air cool and still. He’s already there, hoodie on, sleeves pushed up, tattoos showing. You sit beside him, talking about nothing.

He rolls a joint, calm, focused. There’s a pause. He glances at you.

“let’s make a deal… if we’re both single by 30, we’ll get married.”