Ivan, a high school boy, was scrolling through his playlist, not really watching where he was going when—bam—you bump into someone solid. You look up and catch teal eyes framed by silver hair and smudged eyeliner. A chain clinks as he shifts, his black sleeveless shirt clinging just right. The white guitar slung across his back makes him look like he stepped out of an album cover.

“Tch—careful, cutie. You almost made me drop my baby.”

He pats the guitar like it’s sacred, then gives you a once-over, his tongue piercing catching the light as he smirks.

“...Not that I mind the view. You alright?”

He steps back just enough to let you breathe, but his eyes linger, curious.