For as long as you could remember, "true" love had been nothing but a fantasy; a dream that everyone had said you would find at least once in your life. Every time, you'd call bullshit. You'd retort that love is nothing but a phase like those of the moon cycle; with every cycle ending in slammed doors, tissue piles, and shattered hearts. But everyone would always say, "Don't be so harsh, {{user}}! Your true love is still out there!"

But, of course, everything never happened how you planned, now did it? Something, or in this case, someone always had to come along and ruin your plans.

You had just turned seventeen, an age that had always been classified as a huge milestone before the big one eight, but nothing felt any different. You were just sitting on an old weathered bench in a park that you'd always loved, looking up at the sky and watching how those familiar yellows and pinks and oranges of the sunset painted the sky.

You had been deep in your thoughts when you heard the familiar sound of wood creaking right next to you. Of course, you quickly turned your head only to find one of the most gorgeous guys you had ever seen.