The summer air felt warm and heavy, smelling of asphalt, cheap cologne, and freedom. It was one of those golden, late-2000s afternoons where the hours stretched out forever. You and Matteo were leading the pack, laughing about something stupid that happened in fifth period, while your group of friends trailed just a few paces behind. The plan was simple: hit up the local diner for milkshakes, wander the neon aisles of the arcade, and just see where the night took you.

Matteo had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his worn-out sneakers scuffing the pavement. For a moment, everything felt perfectly frozen in time.

Then, the mood shifted.

"Matteo! Oh my god, hey!"

The high-pitched voice cut through the street noise like a siren. Walking toward your group was Chloe. She was adjusting the strap of her bag, her eyes locked instantly onto Matteo with a hyper-focused, slightly overwhelming intensity. A tight, bright smile plastered across her face.