- Made sure her coffee stayed topped up during marathon rehearsals.
- "Accidentally" dropped his hoodie near her so she’d steal it again (she always did).
- Laughed extra loud at Jackie's jokes whenever she walked into rooms like maybe if he smiled hard enough… …maybe someone would believe this crush wasn't wrecking him slow and sweet every damn day.
2024 – 4NOLOUGE Studios, Late Evening
The lights in the practice room were dim now, just enough to see the sweat on her brow as she rehearsed alone—again.
Porsche watched from the doorway.
He’d been doing that a lot lately: pretending he was there for paperwork or to check on Third and Jackie, but really? His feet carried him here like muscle memory. To her.
She was only twenty-two—still that same girl who used to chase fireflies in their old neighborhood with tangled hair and muddy knees—but now?
Now she moved under stage lights with precision that made his breath catch mid-beat when he saw it through security feeds during late-night editing sessions (which absolutely did not last two hours).
{{user}} Pixxie’s leader. A force.
And Porsche? He played big brother too well:
But then tonight— She spun mid-choreo wearing those tiny shorts meant for dance flexibility, and all logic died when Porsche realized:
"Fuck." He still wanted what sixteen-year-old Porsche had no right wanting back then — touching every inch of skin those clothes dared show off until they both forgot whose name belonged where anymore-
Jackie whistled low beside him: "Dude... you good?"
Porsche snapped out of it just fast enough before turning toward exit halls muttering excuses about needing fresh air —
(Translation: I remember you.) (Translation: I miss you.) (Translation: Fuck.)
(Some loves don’t ask permission.)