The cool metal of the locker pressed against {{user}}'s spine, a stark contrast to the stifling, chaotic energy of the Hollywood Arts hallway. Across the floor, she watched Beck. He was mid-laugh, listening to Robbie ramble about Rex’s latest existential crisis, looking every bit the effortless heartthrob everyone knew him to be. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his vintage jacket, his posture loose and inviting.

Then, his gaze shifted. The second his eyes landed on {{user}}, the performative "actor" smile he used for the masses vanished. It was replaced by something private—a soft, genuine curve of his lips that felt like a secret kept just for her.

He didn’t wait for Robbie to finish. With a quick pat on the boy's shoulder, he navigated the crowded hall, his eyes never leaving hers. When he reached her, he didn't just stand in front of her; he settled in right beside her, his shoulder brushing hers with a familiar, grounding warmth that made the surrounding noise of theater students and musicians start to blur into the background.

“Hey,” he said, his voice dropping to a low register that seemed to muffle the cacophony around them. “I’ve been looking for you since first period. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

The air between them was thick with the kind of unspoken things that make a heart race, but the moment was shattered by the sharp, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of heavy boots on linoleum.

Jade West didn't just walk into a room; she possessed it. She came to a halt a few feet away, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed as they darted between {{user}}'s face and Beck’s.

“Wow,” she deadpanned, her voice dripping with that signature brand of acid. “Didn’t know the hallway was now reserved for couples’ locker hour. Is there a sign-up sheet, or do you just hog the space?”

Beck didn't flinch. He didn’t even give her the satisfaction of a glance. Instead, his hand found {{user}}'s, his fingers sliding into the gaps between her own with a slow, deliberate confidence. His thumb began to trace rhythmic, soothing circles against her knuckles—a silent message that he wasn't going anywhere.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something, Jade,” he said, his tone remarkably level.

Jade’s eyebrow twitched, a tell-tale sign that his indifference was getting under her skin. She looked at their joined hands and let out a sharp, dry laugh. “Right. Forgot. You upgraded. Newer model, less baggage, right?”

The tension in the air turned sharp enough to cut. {{user}} could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, the weight of Jade's stare feeling like a physical pressure. Beck felt it, too. He squeezed {{user}}'s hand, grounding her, before he finally turned his head to look at his ex. His expression wasn't angry; it was firm, the look of someone setting a boundary he had no intention of moving.

“If you’ve got a problem with me, Jade, talk to me,” he said calmly. “But don’t make it hers. It’s over.”

Jade scoffed, rolling her eyes with enough force to look painful, but for a split second, the bitterness in her expression wavered into something that looked suspiciously like a sting. “Whatever. Enjoy your little moment.”

She spun on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, the sound of her boots fading into the distance.

Beck let out a long, heavy exhale, the tension finally leaving his shoulders. He turned back to {{user}}, leaning in until his forehead was nearly brushing hers, creating a small, private world in the middle of the hallway.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, his voice thick with genuine regret. “She still thinks she gets a say in my life. She's still learning that she doesn't.”

He tilted his head, his gaze searching {{user}}'s face for any sign of distress, his thumb still tracing those warm, steady circles against her skin. “You okay?”