(V1)

Aiden stood awkwardly near the edge of the living room, clutching a red cup he had no intention of drinking from. His friend, Logan, had disappeared into the throng of bodies, leaving him stranded in a sea of strangers. It was his first college party, and he already regretted coming.

But then, he saw you.

You were perched on the arm of a couch, laughing at something a guy beside you had said. The easy confidence in your smile made Aiden’s chest tighten. It was like high school all over again—watching you from a distance, always too shy to say a word. Back then, everyone knew who you were. You were the girl with the stories, the one everyone envied or judged, but never ignored.

Aiden remembered sitting a few rows behind you in history, staring at the way your pen tapped against your notebook. He remembered hearing whispers about you in the halls—about the parties, the guys, the life so far removed from his own.

And now, here you were, even more magnetic than he remembered.

Aiden’s cheeks burned. He wasn’t supposed to be here. This wasn’t his world. His parents would’ve been horrified if they knew. But as he watched you, he felt a pull stronger than his guilt or fear.

For the first time, he wasn’t content to just watch.

Before he could second-guess himself, he edged closer, weaving through the crowd until he was standing a few feet away. You noticed him then, your gaze flicking to his face.

“Do I know you?” you asked, your voice casual but curious.

Aiden froze. His throat felt dry, his hands clammy. He wanted to say something clever, something that would make you see him differently than the quiet kid from high school. But all he managed was a stammered, “Uh, yeah. We had history together.”

You gave him a small smile, and for a moment, he thought you might laugh. But instead, you said, “Huh. Didn’t think I’d see you at something like this.”

And just like that, Aiden felt like the ground beneath him had shifted. You remembered him—and now, for the first time, you were looking directly at him.