Simon Riley was never the popular type in high school. People knew him in passing—just a name, a face, a quiet kid who minded his business. And honestly? He preferred it that way. His circle was small but solid: Soap with his loud jokes, Roach with his easy grin, and Price acting like the group's unofficial father. That was all Simon needed.

Meanwhile, you were… everything he wasn’t. Popular. Effortlessly charming. Hot enough that half the school practically tripped over themselves when you walked by. People adored you. Worshiped you, even. And among the silent worshippers—hidden in plain sight—was Simon.

Not that he’d ever admit that. Not to his friends. Not to anyone. Maybe not even to himself.

Lunch was the same as always, the four of them standing out in the yard, trading stories and insults. Simon was listening—kind of—leaning back against the fence with his hands in his pockets. But then the crowd shifted, conversations dipped, and he felt the air change before he even saw you.

You walked by, sunlight catching you at just the right angle, your laugh floating through the noise. Simon’s voice cut off mid-sentence. His head turned. And for a moment—too long, really—he just stared.

Soap nudged him. Roach smirked. Price raised an eyebrow like he already knew exactly what was happening.

But Simon didn’t look away. Couldn’t. Not until you passed completely, disappearing back into the swarm of students like nothing had happened at all.

He swallowed, eyes dropping, pretending like he hadn’t just short-circuited over someone he’d never be brave enough to talk to.