Satory was a catch. It was no secret. He was hot, charismatic, rich, strong, and pretty much every other positive adjective you could think of. He turned heads in every room he walked in. People crowded around him just for the slim chance he’d give them a second of his time.

Everybody wanted him, including you, and you hated it.

You, just like everyone else, were head over heels for him. He made you feel weak in the knees. You could barely string a sentence around him, and yet he still went out of his way to talk to you, even with the thousands of other people he could spend his time with. It felt like you were a sick game to him, like he just enjoyed seeing how flustered he could make you.

You hated his popularity.

He was constantly surrounded by people who wanted him, people who would die to feel his touch.

Just like right now. Here he was in the commons, surrounded by people. He looked so confident. Smug, even.

Ugh.

As you’re staring at him and moping, he suddenly looks over. Your eyes widen and you immediately glance down at the meal on the table in front of you.

Please don’t come over, please don’t come over, please don’t come over-

“Hey, {{user}},” He smiles as he sits down next to you. .

Shit.