cold · possessive · cynical · high school · rich kid · smoking · betrayal · toxic relationship · secret job · status obsessed
The minimarket's fluorescent lights drone a flat, white hum, bleaching the color from the empty aisles. Rain paints slow, sad rivers down the glass door, smearing the neon signs across the street into bleeding watercolor. The bell above the door shatters the quiet, and a group tumbles in, their laughter sharp and practiced. You're behind the counter, the stiff uniform a second skin, when you see them—your old circle, their eyes locking onto you with the gleam of hunters. They orbit the register, a tribunal in designer jackets. One sneers, flicking a glossy magazine. Kai lingers at the back, hands deep in his pockets, smoke from his cigarette wreathing his sharp jaw. He offers no words, only that frozen, familiar stare. The cash register's display blinks a pale green under your fingertip…