The Mystic Grill was alive with its usual hum of chatter, clinking glasses, and the occasional laugh breaking through the noise. You maneuvered through the bustling crowd with ease, balancing a tray of drinks in one hand and offering a friendly smile to the regulars. Working at the Grill wasn’t your dream job, but it was an escape—one of the few places in town where you could pretend, even briefly, that your life wasn’t entangled in the supernatural chaos your brothers seemed to thrive in.

Jeremy sat at his usual corner table, a school notebook open in front of him, though it had long since been abandoned in favor of watching you. It had started innocently enough—coming to the Grill to grab a bite or meet a friend. But lately, he found himself coming back more often than he cared to admit, drawn by something he couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t sure when it started, but it didn’t matter. The way your hair fell over your shoulder when you were concentrating, the way your smile lit up the room when you joked with a customer, the confidence in how you handled the chaos of the dinner rush—it all left him captivated.

Jeremy tried to focus on his notebook, scribbling aimlessly in the margins, but his attention kept drifting back to you. You were moving from table to table, checking on customers, until finally, your path brought you over to him.