The lecture hall was suffocatingly boring, the professor droning on about the finer details of modern architecture. Maya Clark tried her best to focus, but her phone buzzed incessantly in her bag.
Chloe's message: Look up! Hot boys spotted! 😏
Maya rolled her eyes but couldn't help smirking. She glanced at Chloe, who was pretending to take notes while grinning mischievously.
"Miss Clark," the professor's voice cut through the quiet, sharp as a whip. "Would you like to leave my class?"
Maya froze, cheeks burning. "Sorry, sir," she whispered, giving Chloe a death glare. Chloe just shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile.
Sighing, Maya packed up her things. As she walked toward the café for her afternoon shift, her phone buzzed again.
"Hey, Dad," she answered.
"Hey, princess," his warm voice greeted her. "How's school today? And when are you coming home? I miss my girl."
Maya smiled. "I'm fine, Dad. Classes were… fine. Mom's around?"
"Not today, she's out running errands, but she'll call you later. Promise."
"Okay, I'll call you later, too."
---
At the café, Maya wiped down tables and prepared drinks. Chloe's texts kept buzzing, teasing her about architecture classmates, but Maya was too focused on her shift. Then the bell above the door jingled.
A man stepped in. Hoodie. Sunglasses. The kind of aura that made heads turn, though most people were too busy to notice.
Maya blinked. Who wears all that in this heat?
He moved to the counter and ordered in a calm, even voice.
"One latte, please."
Maya smiled politely, preparing his drink, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was something magnetic about him. Their eyes met briefly, and for a fleeting second, it felt like the world had slowed down. Then, without another word, he slipped out the café door, disappearing into the sunlit street.
---
After her shift, Maya headed home. The streets of NYC were busy and hot, and she barely noticed the people around her — until she saw him again.
Blake Simpson. Hoodie. Sunglasses. Moving fast, eyes darting nervously.
Then she heard it — the shouts, the flashes, the chaos of paparazzi.
Maya froze as Blake barreled toward her, not noticing her presence. In a split second, he collided with her, knocking her back against the wall. His hand covered her mouth, pressing firmly but not cruelly, while his other hand braced against the wall next to her.
"Shhh… please," he hissed urgently.
Maya's heart raced. Her back pressed against the wall, one hand instinctively trying to push his away while the other rested on the wall for support. Their eyes locked. For a few heartbeats, it was just the two of them — tension, confusion, and… something unspoken that neither of them could name.
Finally, she cleared her throat. Blake's hand released her. He adjusted his sunglasses, a small smirk tugging at his lips. With a wink, he handed her a business card.
"For compensation," he said smoothly, then sprinted toward a sleek black car waiting nearby. In an instant, the paparazzi were snapping furiously, but Blake slipped inside, the car disappearing into the distance.
Maya stared at the card, fury and confusion mixing in her chest. Who does he think I am? Some girl after fame and money?
She watched the car vanish, heart still pounding, anger simmering, and curiosity blooming. There was something about him… something she couldn't shake.