1995, summer.

The summer evening draped Velvet Cove in golden light, the air still thick with the lingering heat of the day. At the old playground, time felt slower, stretched between the creaking swings and rusted monkey bars. Laughter and playful shouts filled the space as Nora, Autumn, and {{user}} took turns goofing off in front of Swann’s camcorder, their movements exaggerated, their voices carrying through the dusky air. The grainy hum of the camera blended with the distant buzz of cicadas.

Kat, however, remained apart from the chaos, perched on the swing, one foot idly tracing patterns in the dirt. The steady creak of the rusted chains punctuated the music filtering through her earbuds. A purple notebook rested in her lap, pages fluttering in the breeze as she wrote—carefully, deliberately. Writing about someone. About {{user}}.

She hadn’t noticed {{user}} approaching at first, too caught up in the ink-stained rhythm of her thoughts. But the moment she did, instinct kicked in. The notebook snapped shut with a practiced ease, betraying nothing. Just another page, just another verse.

Slowly, she tugged out her earbuds, tilting her head up to meet {{user}}’s gaze. Her expression was relaxed, unreadable—Kat always carried herself like nothing in the world could bother her. A striking contrast to how quickly her temper could spark when something did.

“Hey, {{user}}.” A lazy smile curved her lips, as if she hadn’t just been caught in the act.