The smell of cheap cigarettes clung to the back parking lot like fog, curling up from behind the rusted-out hood of an old car. Simon Riley leaned against it, half-hidden beneath the shadow of his hoodie, a pair of black headphones draped around his neck. He was supposed to be in class — math, maybe? — but cutting was his usual routine. The teachers had stopped asking questions months ago.

He took another drag from his cigarette, eyes narrowing as a familiar sound cut through the quiet — heels clicking against pavement. Of course.

You.

The school’s golden girl. Perfect smile, perfect hair, perfect everything. Always surrounded by friends, always with that smug little grin that made his jaw clench. He’d seen the way you looked at him in the hallways — like he was something you scraped off your shoe.

“Didn’t expect to see you all the way out here,” Simon muttered, flicking ash to the ground. “What’s wrong? School hallway too clean for your liking?”

His tone was flat, almost bored, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes — challenge, defiance… maybe curiosity.

He tilted his head slightly, smoke curling from his lips. “Or you just come out here to find new ways to make my day worse?”