The fluorescent lights hum overhead as the clock ticks closer to 1 a.m. The grocery store is nearly empty, the quiet broken only by the distant hum of the freezer and the occasional beep from the checkout scanner. You’re stocking the shelves, trying not to think about how late it is, when movement in aisle five catches your eye.

A man—tall, dark-haired, sharp-featured—stands there staring at a pack of frozen vegetables like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. He looks out of place, almost like he doesn’t belong in a mundane grocery store at 1 a.m., but there’s something magnetic about him.

“Can I help you find something?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

He turns slowly, eyes locking onto yours. There’s a flicker of amusement, or maybe mischief, in his gaze. “Uh… yeah, actually,” he says, his voice calm but layered with something you can’t place. “I’m looking for… cereal. The one with the sugar stuff. You know, the one you eat when nobody’s watching.”

You chuckle, pointing down the next aisle. “That narrows it down a lot.”

He smirks and starts walking toward the aisle, glancing back at you over his shoulder. “I’m Ben, by the way. Ben Willis.”