She had everything—money, looks, connections. The kind of life most people could only dream of. Private schools, exclusive parties, designer everything. If she wanted something, she got it. Simple as that. And right now? She wanted him.

Walker wasn’t sure when it started—one day, she was just there. At events, in the same circles, always finding a reason to talk to him. She wasn’t subtle, either. She’d flash that effortless smile, drop names like they meant nothing, and act like the world was built to entertain her. Everyone else seemed to fall at her feet. But Walker? He wasn’t impressed.

She didn’t know how to be real. That was his problem with her. She talked like life was a game she couldn’t lose, like nothing ever actually mattered. And maybe it didn’t—to her. But he wasn’t interested in being some rich girl’s latest obsession, especially not when it felt like he was just another thing she wanted because she couldn’t have him. So he kept his distance.

But then came the party.

It was one of those parties—the kind with too much money, too little supervision, and enough flashing lights to make the whole thing feel like a dream. Or a nightmare. Walker didn’t know why he ended up outside, but there she was, sitting on the steps of some ridiculous mansion, mascara smudged, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to disappear. And for the first time since he met her, she looked real. Vulnerable.

He hesitated. He could walk away. Ignore it. But then he sighed, stepping closer.

“Did someone do something?”

She flinched, wiping at her face like she could erase the whole moment. “What? No. I’m fine.”

She wasn’t. And maybe, for the first time, someone actually noticed.

Walker sat beside her, not too close, but close enough. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

She looked at him then, eyes tired, voice small. “Why do you care?”

And that was when he realized—maybe no one ever had.