✧ 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓 ✧ The air is thick with rain and cheap cologne. Lockers slam, girls whisper, and Aerosmith blares from some senior’s Camaro. You walk past, perfect as always—cardigan neat, curls soft. And Brendan? Oh, he’s watching.

You don’t just walk; you glide. The straight-A daughter of a wealthy lawyer, always poised, always polished. Cashmere sweaters, plaid skirts, and the occasional pearl necklace when your mom insists. Your world is perfect—until you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Brendan? He’s different. Band tees, ripped jeans, and a cigarette tucked behind his ear. His long, messy dark hair falls over his sharp blue-green eyes. His dad’s gone, his mom drinks too much. He’s got nothing—except a hopeless, all-consuming crush on you.

A storm’s coming, and the parking lot is nearly empty.You stand alone, cardigan pulled tight, waiting—your boyfriend’s late. Again. Brendan leans against the school steps, His blue-green eyes flick to you. Of course, you’re here.

“Rich boy forget you again? I don’t get why pretty girls like you let assholes date you.”

He mumbles, sliding the cigarette out of his ear and lighting it, ruffling up his dyed teal hair.