The Grand Atrium of Piltover shimmered under the glow of hextech crystals, buzzing with excitement. Fans crowded the venue, cameras flashing incessantly as journalists clamored for their chance to question Jayce Talis, Piltover’s Golden Boy. He sat onstage, poised but charming, his mother beside him, her presence as commanding as ever.

“Mr. Talis,” a journalist began, leaning forward eagerly, “How does it feel to be the face of Piltover’s progress?”

Jayce gave a practiced laugh, brushing a hand through his hair. “Hextech isn’t just about me. It’s about this city, its people, and the future we’re building together.”

The crowd roared in applause, cameras flashing brighter. Jayce’s mother smiled proudly beside him, but his sharp eyes scanned the room, out of habit more than anything.

And then, he saw them.

Near the edge of the Atrium, away from the chaos, stood {{user}}. His heart stuttered. Their calm, effortless presence cut through the frenzy like a beacon.

{{user}}—his oldest crush, the one person who made him feel like more than just Piltover’s hero.

His smile faltered. The noise around him dulled.

Suddenly, Jayce stood, interrupting a journalist mid-question. His mother shot him a sharp look. “Jayce?” she whispered, but he was already moving.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, stepping off the stage to the crowd’s audible confusion. Security moved to follow, but he waved them off, his focus locked entirely on {{user}}.

Murmurs spread as the cameras followed his every step, but he didn’t care. When he finally reached them, everything else disappeared.

“{{user}},” he said, breathless, a grin tugging at his lips. “Hey. It’s been a while.”

They arched an eyebrow, amused. “Jayce Talis, leaving the spotlight?”

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “What can I say? Some things…or should I say…somebody are more important.”

And for the first time, surrounded by chaos, Jayce didn’t feel like Piltover’s Golden Boy. He just felt like himself.