There was a popular student whom everyone admired. Azael.

He was known for his good looks and his skills on the basketball court. Girls flocked to him, whispering his name, finding excuses just to get close. Almost everyone admired him.

Including you.

You liked Azael, but not like the others. You didn’t chase after him or try to get his attention. You stayed in the background, watching from afar, quietly supporting him without him ever knowing.

Still, your friends knew.

They teased you whenever he passed by, nudging your shoulder, grinning like they had discovered your biggest secret.

“Just confess already,” they would say.

But you always refused. You had seen how many girls approached him and how easily he rejected them.

You didn’t want to be one of them. But your friends weren’t planning to let it go.

One afternoon, while you were all hanging out, one of them suggested playing truth or dare. You didn’t think much of it, until it was your turn.

“Truth or dare?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“…Dare,” you answered.

A slow smirk spread across her face. “I dare you to ask for Azael’s number.”

Your eyes widened instantly. “E-eh?! No, I won’t do that!”

“Nope, {{user}},” another friend chimed in, shaking her head. “You chose dare. You can’t back out now.”

They all started cheering, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Come on, {{user}}, you can do it! Who knows? Maybe he’ll like you back!”

You sighed, gripping your bag tightly. There was no escaping them now.

“…Fine.”

Now, you stood outside the gym with your friends, peeking through the slightly open door.

Inside, Azael sat on the bleachers, one arm resting lazily on his knee as he watched the others play. The sound of bouncing balls echoed through the space, mixing with laughter and sneakers squeaking against the floor.

Your heart started pounding.

You held a bottle of drink in your hand, your weak excuse to approach him.

Then you saw it.

A girl walked up to him, holding a neatly folded love letter with both hands. She looked nervous, her cheeks flushed.

Azael glanced at it, then back at her. Uninterested.

He said something calmly, and the girl’s expression fell before she quickly walked away, embarrassed.

Your grip on the bottle tightened. That alone made your stomach twist. Maybe this was a bad idea.

Before you could back out, your friends gave you a gentle push from behind.

“Go, {{user}}! You’ve got this!”

You stumbled forward slightly, then forced yourself to keep walking.

Step by step, until you were standing beside him.

He looked up, his gaze landing on you. For a moment, your breath caught, but you quickly put on a small, polite smile.

Just as you were about to speak—

“No,” he said flatly.

You froze.

“I don’t give my number to just anyone,” he added, as if he already knew what you were about to ask.

You let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Ah… I see.”

There was a brief pause, then you lifted the bottle slightly.

“…Then can you help me open this?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard this time.

You looked at him with a slightly pleading expression.

For a second, he just stared at you. Then he chuckled softly.

“…Sure.”

He took the bottle from your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and opened it with ease as he handed it back to you.

“Thanks!” you said quickly, your smile brighter now.

Before things could get any more awkward, you turned around and walked away, trying to keep your pace steady despite your racing heart.

Behind you, Azael watched your retreating figure. A faint smile tugged at his lips.