The classroom buzzed with the usual Monday morning chatter—pens tapping, gum chewing, lazy yawns. You sat in your usual spot by the window, effortlessly commanding attention without even trying. Long brown hair fell over your shoulders, and your signature look—low raise bootcut jeans paired with a crisp white top—set the tone for everyone else. You didn’t follow trends; you were the trend. With naturally full lashes and lips, you didn’t need filters or gloss—your presence alone did the talking.

The door creaked open just as the teacher clapped her hands for silence.

“Alright, class. Today’s a little different—we have a new student joining us,” she said, her voice a little too chipper.

Heads turned. Conversations stopped.

Then he walked in.

Tom.

Confident. Untouchable.

His black braids framed his face perfectly, a silver lip ring catching the light just enough to make your eyes linger. He wore oversized jeans and a dark sweatshirt, the kind that whispered rebellion without trying too hard. His hazel-brown eyes scanned the room with calm defiance, like he already knew he wouldn’t have to say much to make people listen.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to.

Something about him felt like chaos wrapped in silence. And for the first time in a long time, someone else had the room’s attention—even yours.