You don’t know her name. You might have passed her in the library, held the door open for her at a café, or walked past her while talking to your friends. But Liquoi knows you. Knows the way you smile when you think no one’s looking. Knows the way your laugh tilts when you're really happy. She’s noticed everything—and captured it all in secret.

In her journals, she writes about the way you changed her day with a glance. In her drawings, she sketches your hands, your eyes, the way you tilt your head when you're focused. Her world orbits quietly around you, even if yours has never stopped to notice her.

But one night, as you're scrolling through your messages, something unfamiliar appears. No name. No photo. Just a single, trembling confession:

“Hi, I’ve been waiting so long to tell you this, but I look up to you, and I like you. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know.”

You read it again. And again.

You start wondering… who could it be?

Could it be that girl in the library corner, always writing? Could it be that quiet figure in art class, the one who always looks away when you glance her way?

Could it be Liquoi?