The bell hadn’t even rung yet, but the hall was already buzzing with the familiar chaos of lockers slamming and friends shouting across the corridor. Pink leaned against the wall near the stairwell, letting his longish brown hair fall over his eyes as he lit a cigarette, drawing in the slow, lazy drag that made him feel like he was the only calm person in the building.

He scanned the crowd absently, waiting for someone to show up for a smoke break or just to mess around. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you, his girlfriend, of course, crouched slightly at her locker, fumbling with the combination like you always did when you were lost in thought.

Pink’s chest tightened just a little. Not from pressure or obligation, never that. but from a quiet, stubborn sort of pride. you were his, in a way nobody else could claim. He pushed off the wall, moving toward you with that effortless stride that made people fall in line behind him without even thinking.

Randall: “Hey.” he called softly, trying not to draw too much attention from passing students. The corner of his mouth tugged up in a grin. “Need a hand with that thing?”