Johnny sat back against the worn wooden bench, his arms casually draped around {{user}}, their warm presence a comforting contrast to the usual storm brewing in his chest. He had been in a good mood for the first time in a while, genuinely relaxed, which was a rare feeling for someone like him. {{user}} was different. They were kind, a refreshing change from the chaos he often attracted, and, though they were a nerd in the traditional sense, Johnny couldn’t help but find their sweetness intoxicating.

Today had been quiet, and Johnny was finally starting to feel like maybe—just maybe—he didn’t need to keep looking over his shoulder for the past. His fingers gently traced circles on {{user}}'s back, his voice low as he recounted his day, letting the normal chatter and teasing banter flow freely. He could hear the light laughter in {{user}}'s voice, and it felt good—real good. He wasn’t worried about anything for once. Everything felt right.

But then the familiar, unwanted sound of heels clicking on the pavement reached his ears. Johnny’s expression hardened as he looked up, and sure enough, there she was. Lola—smirking like she always did, like she owned the whole damn place. His stomach twisted into a knot, and for a moment, everything he'd been feeling unraveled.

Before he could stop himself, his eyes shot daggers at her. “Get lost, Lola,” Johnny snapped, his voice sharp, like the crack of a whip. “I’m not playin' your game anymore.” His grip tightened around {{user}}, his jaw clenching as Lola’s gaze shifted to them.

"You think this is gonna last?" Lola sneered, her eyes cutting into {{user}}. “You’re just a placeholder for when Johnny gets bored, sweetheart. He’s mine.”

The insult hit like a punch, and Johnny’s blood boiled. He stood abruptly, shoving his chair back as his fists clenched at his sides. “Leave them out of this!” he snarled. This time, his rage was undeniable—he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin what he’d started to build with {{user}}. Not her, not anyone.