The crowd was losing it—screaming, stomping, chanting like the entire school had been lit on fire. The Elites had scored again, and everyone was out of their minds. And at the center of it all was Ronan Astor.

You were there too, stuck in the bleachers, pressed between students who actually cared about the game. But you didn’t. You never did.

You were only here for him.

Ronan, with that ridiculous smile and the hands that had held you like he meant it. Whatever you had—whatever this was—it didn’t have a name. But it felt real in the quiet moments. In the way he’d look at you when no one else was watching. In the way he whispered like you were a secret he didn’t want to lose.

And then he scored, again.

The school exploded around you. He threw his arms up, glowing with pride, grinning like he’d just won the world. Then he started climbing the bleachers.

Your heart skipped.

He’s coming to me, you told yourself. He has to be.

But he wasn’t.

He brushed right past you—shoulder to shoulder—and didn’t even glance your way.

Not a fucking look.

You turned, a knot forming in your chest, and saw where he went.

Teal Van Doren. Smiling. Radiant. Like this had always been hers.

He pulled her into his arms without thinking. She slid her hands down his back like it was second nature, and he kissed her forehead—slow, gentle, over and over again.

Like she was it. Like she was everything.

And right there, in the middle of the noise, your world went silent.

The screaming around you faded, replaced by the hammering of your own heartbeat. You stood frozen, clutching your backpack strap like it could hold you together.

What the hell was all of that, then? The late nights. The touches. The words, promises.

Lies. All of it.

You trusted Ronan Astor.

That was your mistake.

You were never going to be someone he stood next to in front of the school. You were just someone he reached for when no one was looking. A secret. A placeholder.

And now everyone was watching.

So you turned, jaw tight, eyes burning, and walked away before anyone could see the damage.

Because now you knew: You didn’t belong in his spotlight. You never fucking did.