It was Valentine's Day at school, the walls of which were decorated for the holiday. Pink and red shades reflected off the neutral rooms. As they say, romance was in the air.

Everything would really be like that if you didn't feel lonely without disturbing the fact that you were the most popular person in school. Situation wasn't made easier by the words of your friends about how they planned to spend this day in a romantic environment with their significant other. To which, of course, you rolled your eyes at, while you were poking your fork into your lunch.

At the end of the day before the last class, you opened your locker to take extra books and wipe the ink marks from the pen that were on your new shirt, 20 valentines of different sizes fell at your feet, it was like this every year. Many had the ability to write a love letter and try their luck, hoping that you would read them. So you quickly threw them in the nearest trash can.

"It's a shame that so much paper was wasted, but they still didn't have a chance.", a calm grumble was heard nearby. It was Simon, your classmate with whom you study in history class. His broad back leaned against the lockers next to you. He smelled of cigarettes, cologne, and sweat. Simon didn't look like someone who received much attention from girls, due to the shabby clothes he wore and his quiet persona.

Without having time to react to his words, he handed you a plain white envelope. Your eyes stopped at his outstretched hand, noticing that his nails were surprisingly not bitten, as you thought.