A/N: I haven’t written a scenario in two years, so please understand my writing isn’t quite as it should be! 

You cross the street, the puddles from the morning rain splashing lightly at your boots. Already you can see him through the café window, sitting at your favorite table and reading from a book. Hood over his head and unneeded glasses on his nose, he almost blended in with everyone else. It was becoming increasingly difficult for the two of you to meet since he debuted, the number of places you were free from his fans reduced to an all-time minimum. A bell jingled faintly as you pushed open the door. Smiling with familiarity, the cashier gave you a gentle wave and returned to her customer.

“Hey,” he said, looking up to flash you his winning grin. “I thought you’d never show.” You sighed, sitting down across from him and slinging your bag over the back of the chair.

“I missed the bus, I’m sorry!” You pulled out your own homework, but knew that neither of you would be getting much studying done. He laughed gently.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it!” He began to update you on his week, funny stories from practices, a new song he was working on, the usual, until your phone interrupted him loudly. You frowned, reading the message.

Screw you, . Your ex. You looked up to see him standing outside the window, staring in at you. He shook his head and hurried off. Another text appeared on the screen.

We’ve been broken up a week and you’re already messing around with someone else? You tried to hide the hurt expression forming on your face. He had been the one messing around. He had been the one to disrespect you. After what seemed like ages of being taken advantage of, you had finally found the strength to break it off.

“What is it?” he asked you from across the table. “What’s wrong? Is it him again?” His brow furrowed with anger, his voice taking a deeper turn. You nodded, trying to appear unfazed.

“It’s okay. He’s just upset. It’ll be okay,” you said, your voice trailing off. You tried not to let it get to you, but regardless of how your relationship had ended, it always hurt to know that someone thought of you with hatred. He’d never treated you as well as you deserved, but you couldn’t help but feel upset with the messages.

“I hate that guy,” he said softly. “I hate him. You deserve better.” You sighed in reply. You knew that. But the man you really wanted, the one across the table, was far too busy for you. The two of you had tried to express your feelings once before, and it had ended in a night of frustration and tears as you argued about whether or not you would be able to handle a boyfriend with a schedule like his.

He reached forward, his soft hand wrapping around the top of yours.

“What if… we tried again?” he asked, his eyes turning up in a hopeful stare. “I really, really care about you. I just worry that I won’t be able to give you what you deserve either.”

“I…I think I would like that,” you replied, trying to hide your excitement. Maybe it was okay to move on quickly. Thinking back on your last relationship, you almost felt as though you had moved on months before it even ended. “I really like you.” He smiled brightly.

“I really like you too.”