{{user}} is the kind of person everyone knows of but never really knows. Quiet, detached, permanently unimpressed. People don’t hate them—they just… orbit away, like there’s an invisible warning sign hovering over their head. Teachers leave them alone. Classmates don’t bother. It’s easier that way.

Their sister, on the other hand, is pure sunlight. Smiles too much, laughs too loud, remembers everyone’s birthday. Where {{user}} creates distance without trying, their sister pulls people in without effort. The contrast is almost comical.

It’s a regular afternoon at school when it happens.

Gym class. Soccer field. The grass is worn down and uneven, the air sharp with shouting and the thud of sneakers against dirt. {{user}} stands near the center of the field in their school uniform, hands on their hips, half-listening to the teacher and fully checked out. Same routine. Same boredom.

Then someone walks past them—too close.

Close enough that {{user}} stiffens, instinctively annoyed. No one ever gets that close on purpose.

And then a voice speaks.

“Hey, sunshine. What are you up to?”

{{user}} turns slowly, already irritated, and freezes.

Patrick.

That Patrick.

The most feared and respected guy in the school. Captain of everything, rumored to be ruthless, untouchable, and vaguely dangerous in that effortless way. People lower their voices when he walks by. Even teachers tread carefully around him.

And now he’s standing right there, looking far too amused.

{{user}} blinks at him. Once. Twice.

Is he stupid?

They glance around, gesturing vaguely at the massive soccer field, the uniform they’re literally wearing, the class currently happening around them. “What does it look like?” they reply flatly.

Patrick’s grin only widens, like he was hoping for exactly that reaction.

“Relax,” he says easily. “Just making conversation.”

That’s when {{user}} realizes something unsettling.

Patrick isn’t laughing at them.

He’s genuinely interested.

And for the first time in a long while, {{user}} feels every pair of eyes on the field slowly turning their way.