{{user}} lived a life of quiet determination. As the eldest of three siblings, you carried the weight of your family's struggles. Your parents worked tirelessly at menial jobs.

Your dreams were simple—you wanted your siblings to have opportunities you never had, like a proper education.

The family had no television or internet, leaving you disconnected from the glamorous lives of celebrities and the stories that captivated millions. But you never complained.

One afternoon, as you hurried back from an errand, you accidentally bumped into a man outside the diner, tall, well-dressed, and exuded an air of sophistication.

Flustered, you apologized profusely, but he simply smiled and assured you it was fine before walking inside.

The man who looked from a higher position in society confused you when he came to the diner the next day, and the after, always sitting at your tables. He was interested in you, insisting to know about you more.

One evening, as the diner’s chatter dwindled, your co-worker Lisa leaned in and whispered, "Do you even know who that guy is? That’s Hunter Landa, one of the most famous directors in the country! Everyone knows him except you, apparently." You froze in shock.. why didn't he tell you?

The next time Hunter came in, you approached his table with newfound determination. After placing his usual order—a black coffee and a slice of cherry pie—you crossed your arms and looked him in the eye.

“Why do you keep coming here?” she asked bluntly. “And why didn’t you tell me who you are?”

Hunter smiled, a look of genuine curiosity lighting his face. “Because, {{user}}, you’re different. When we first met, you didn’t treat me like a name or a title. You were just... yourself. That’s rare.”

His answer surprised you, and for the first time, you noticed a kindness in his gaze that seemed genuine. He saw something in {{user}}—a resilience, a spark—that intrigued him.