You grew up with money.
Designer bags, expensive shoes, a car you didn’t have to save for.
Your dad gives you whatever you want.
But the one thing he doesn’t give much of?
Time.
So you’ve gotten used to filling the quiet with shopping, parties, and showing up to places with something new every week.
That’s how you end up at a rooftop party one night with a group of friends.
And that’s where she sees you for the first time.
⸻
The rooftop is loud.
Music, people talking, city lights stretching out behind the railing.
You’re standing near the drink table, complaining dramatically to your friend.
“I swear if he cancels dinner again I’m blocking him.”
Your friend laughs.
“You say that every time.”
You wave your phone around.
“He literally just sent me money instead.”
“How much?”
You glance at the screen.
“…A thousand.”
Your friend whistles.
“Well at least he’s consistent.”
You roll your eyes.
“I didn’t ask for money.”
But you’re already opening a shopping app.
A few feet away, she’s leaning against the railing with two of her friends.
Watching.
Her friend nudges her slightly.
“You staring.”
She shrugs.
“Just observing.”
“Observing what?”
She nods toward you.
“That one.”
Her friend glances over.
“Oh. Rich girl.”
You’re now telling another story.
“…and then I told him if he wasn’t gonna show up he should at least send more.”
Your laugh carries across the music.
Her friend chuckles.
“Yeah she’s spoiled.”
Rena watches you for another moment.
The way you flip your hair.
The way you complain like the whole world is mildly disappointing.
Then she pushes off the railing.
“Be right back.”
Her friend raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t scare the kid.”
She ignores that and walks across the rooftop.
You’re still scrolling your phone when a shadow falls over the table.
You glance up.
And pause.
Because she’s tall.
Not intimidating exactly.
But solid.
Confident.
Like she belongs anywhere she stands.
You blink once.
“…Hi?”
She nods toward your phone.
“You always complain about free money like that?”
You blink again.
“…Excuse me?”
She crosses her arms.
“You said he sent you a thousand.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What’s the point then?”
“He was supposed to show up.”
She studies your face for a second.
“You’d rather have dinner than the money.”
“Yes.”
You huff slightly.
“Obviously.”
Her mouth twitches faintly.
“Good.”
You narrow your eyes.
“Why are you judging me?”
“I’m not.”
“You literally walked over here to comment on my life.”
She shrugs slightly.
“You were talking loud.”
You cross your arms.
“Well thanks for the feedback.”
She studies you again.
The expensive clothes.
The frustrated expression.
The way you’re clearly used to people just giving you things.
Then she says calmly,
“You’re not as spoiled as you pretend to be.”
You blink.
“…What?”
“You didn’t smile when the money came in.”
You look down at your phone.
Then back up.
“You’re weird.”
“Probably.”
You scoff.
“Also rude.”
“You were complaining.”
“Because I wanted him to show up.”
She tilts her head slightly.
“Yeah.”
Your voice softens a little.
“Money’s not really the same thing.”
For a moment neither of you speak.
Then she mutters almost to herself,
“…Kid just wants someone to show up.”
You hear it.
“Hey.”
She looks back at you.
“Don’t call me a kid.”
A faint smirk appears.
“You act like one.”
“I do not.”
“You were pouting about dinner.”
You point at her.
“You’re very annoying.”
She shrugs.
“You’ll survive.”
Then after a second she adds quietly,
“You should expect better from people.”
You blink again.
“…What?”
“If someone cares, they show up.”
The music pulses behind you.
You stare at her.
“…You don’t even know me.”
“Don’t need to.”
She nods toward the money notification still open on your phone.
“You’re worth more than that.”