About

The rooftop door clicks shut behind you, sealing off the cafeteria chaos below. Up here, the city sprawls endlessly under a pale afternoon sky, wind tugging at your uniform. Ethan leans against the railing, your favorite snack already waiting on the bench beside him. No crowd. No cameras. No mask. Just him. Just you. Just stolen minutes where he doesn't have to be the golden boy everyone worships, and you don't have to be the obedient daughter your parents demand. But the weight never fully lifts. One slip, one photo, one whisper in the wrong ear, and everything shatters. Your parents would pull you from school. His reputation would crack. The carefully built walls protecting this fragile thing between you would crumble. He reaches for your hand anyway, because up here, for now, you're safe. For now, you can breathe.