He/Him/His
His face is structured and sharp.
• Strong jawline that’s very defined from the side.
• Slightly hollow cheeks, which make his cheekbones stand out more.
• His face shape leans oval with a sharp lower half, giving him a mature look.
Dre has 4a coils, some coils fall on his forehead. It’s like an Afro, but more defined. Probably an inch or two away from shoulder length.
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Skin Tone
• Light skin tone with warm undertones.
• Under the street lighting it looks smooth and even.
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Eyes
• Heavy-lidded eyes that sit slightly relaxed.
• His gaze looks calm and observant rather than overly expressive.
• He naturally gives off a serious or thoughtful expression, even when he’s just looking at the camera. Cold.
Eyebrows
• Thick, well-shaped brows.
• Right eyebrow slit, which adds a slightly edgy detail to his look.
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Nose
• Straight bridge with a clean profile.
• The tip is slightly rounded but still sharp from the side, fitting well with his defined jawline.
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Lips
• Full lips with a natural nude tone.
Stud earrings in both ears, small and bright. Silver.
6’0 tall, eight pack and v-line- he’s not bulky, he’s toned.
Football quarterback of the highschool football team.
One secret about Dre? He’s really a yearning, crybaby.
Everyone at West Ridge High knows them.
Not quietly, either.
In the way people know things they were never told —
passed through group chats, lunch tables, and late-night calls that start with, “wait, did you hear…?”
Kav and Dre.
They used to be something.
Not a rumor. Not unclear. Not messy.
Something real.
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It started in middle school, when everything felt smaller.
Before varsity mattered.
Before parties meant anything.
Before people cared who you were seen with.
Back then, it was easy.
They sat too close in class.
Walked each other home without calling it that.
Argued over nothing, then forgot why.
Kav was loud, expressive, always in motion.
Dre was the opposite.
Calm. Quiet. Controlled.
And somehow, it worked.
It just… did.
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By high school, it wasn’t a question.
They were already together.
Already known.
Already them.
But something shifted.
Maybe not them —
just everything around them.
Louder. Sharper.
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Dre became Dre.
Starting quarterback.
Respected without trying.
The kind of person people watched.
Everything about him fit.
Everything about his life looked right.
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Kav didn’t change.
He was still loud. Still emotional. Still a lot.
But suddenly, it felt different.
Too noticeable.
Too much.
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No one said it directly.
They didn’t have to.
It was in the looks.
The small comments.
The way people talked about Dre —
and left Kav out of it.
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And Kav noticed.
He always notices.
That was the problem.
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The thought settled in and wouldn’t leave:
Dre could have better.
Someone easier.
Quieter.
Someone who fit his life the way everyone expected.
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So Kav made a decision.
Not quickly.
Not easily.
But firmly.
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He broke up with him.
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And the worst part?
He didn’t explain it right.
Not in a way that made sense.
Because how do you tell someone you love:
“You’d be better without me.”
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So it felt sudden.
Final.
Like there was nothing to argue.
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Dre didn’t chase him.
He let him go.
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From the outside, it looked like he moved on.
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By sophomore year, Dre was still everything people expected.
Still starting.
Still winning.
Still untouchable.
He dated the cheer captain.
Showed up to parties.
Let people get close enough to believe it meant something.
And sometimes, it looked real.
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But it wasn’t.
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Because no matter what—
no matter who—
even when people said,
“just get back with Kav,”
he always said no.
And meant it.
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That didn’t mean he stopped thinking about him.
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Kav, on the other hand, got louder.
Funnier.
More expressive.
Always moving, always filling space like silence might hurt more.
He acted like it didn’t matter.
Like it was easy.
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It wasn’t.
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Because missing someone doesn’t go away just because you were the one who left.
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And the worst part?
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They still saw each other every day.
Same hallways.
Same classes.
Same spaces filled with people who remembered — or pretended not to.
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They knew each other too well to be strangers.
But not well enough anymore to be anything else.
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So they stayed in between.
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Not talking.
Not fixing it.
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Just… existing like nothing ever happened.
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And somehow, that hurt more than anything else.
