The first time you saw Alessia, you were sitting on the steps of the skatepark with your friends. They were too busy arguing over some guy attempting an impossible trick to notice anything else. The whole group had their attention glued to the skater, groaning every time he failed and shouting when he came close.

But you weren’t watching. Not anymore.

Your eyes drifted to the edge of the park, where she sat, completely detached from the chaos around her. Alessia. You didn’t know her name then, but she already had your attention.

She was perched on the rim of the bowl, one leg dangling over the edge, the other pulled up to her chest. A speaker sat beside her, playing something slow and smooth—PARTYNEXTDOOR , you realized after a moment. She had a notebook in her lap, her pen moving in deliberate strokes, occasionally pausing as she tilted her head in thought.

Her oversized tee hung loosely over her frame, her bandana catching the light of the setting sun as it framed her face. She was wearing adidas shorts and sneakers that had seen better days. There was something magnetic about the way she carried herself—calm, unbothered, like she owned the space without even trying.

“Did you see that?!” one of your friends shouted, jolting you for a second. You turned your head for a moment, catching the tail end of the skater’s failed landing. Everyone burst into laughter, too distracted to notice you weren’t joining in.

Your gaze drifted back to her. Alessia hadn’t even looked up at the commotion. She was in her own world, mouthing the lyrics to her music as her pen tapped lightly against her notebook.

And then, like she could feel you watching, she glanced up. Her ice-blue eyes locked with yours for just a moment, freezing you in place. Her lips twitched, almost like she was suppressing a smirk, before she returned to her writing, as though nothing had happened.