𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

There was something about the park that day. Maybe it was the warmth in the air or the way the sunlight slanted through the trees, catching on blades of grass and making everything look a little too perfect. I wasn't sure why I even went there—I never really hung out in places like that. Too many people smiling, too much fake joy in one place. But I was restless, bored. And needed a distraction.

That's when I saw him. Spencer.

He wasn't like the others, not wrapped up in the usual park nonsense of group laughter and loud conversation. No, he was quiet. Alone. Sitting on a bench with some book in his hands, looking like he was pulled straight out of some soft, coming-of-age movie. The kind of boy who was just too good for the world around him, completely unaware of how cruel things could get. He had this openness to him, this innocence that just... stood out.

I don't know what it was exactly that caught my attention—maybe the way his hair fell into his eyes, or how his lips moved ever so slightly while he read. Maybe it was the way he sat there, like he didn't care that he was alone, like he didn't even notice that no one else was paying attention to him. He seemed comfortable with himself in a way that made me feel something odd. Curious, maybe.

I couldn't help myself. I walked over and sat down next to him. Didn't ask, didn't hesitate. Just slid onto the bench like I belonged there, even though I knew I didn't.

"Hey," I said, taking a slow drag off my cigarette. I exhaled the smoke into the fading light, letting it swirl in the air between us. I wasn't really interested in small talk, but I had to start somewhere.

He looked up at me, startled, like he wasn't used to people just showing up next to him. His eyes were wide, soft brown, and so open that I almost felt guilty.

"Mind if I sit here?" I added, though I didn't care about the answer. I was already sitting.

He blinked, his cheeks going pink as he shifted on the bench. "Uh, no, not at all."

Cute. He was flustered.

I glanced down at the book in his lap, barely glancing at the cover before asking, "You come here a lot?"

He nodded, clearly trying to pull himself together. "Yeah, sometimes. It's quiet. Good place to read."

The way he held that book, like it was something sacred, told me everything I needed to know. He wasn't the type who cared about parties or cheap thrills. He was serious. A romantic, probably. The kind who'd get lost in his own little world, imagining how life could be instead of what it really was. The kind who'd believe anything if you said it the right way.

Easy target.

"What are you reading?" I asked, feigning interest. I could tell from his reaction that he didn't expect anyone like me to ask a question like that. It was funny, really—how quick he was to underestimate me.

"Oh, uh, just some poetry," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced at me nervously, like I was going to laugh at him or something. "It's probably not your thing."

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the bench with a grin. "Try me."

He hesitated, his fingers nervously tracing the edge of the book, but then he flipped it open and started reading. His voice was soft, almost shaky, but there was something about the way he read that grabbed my attention. It wasn't the words that mattered—honestly, I couldn't care less about the poem—but the way his voice sounded, the way his eyes lit up, made me stay.

When he finished, there was a silence between us. I let it hang there for a second, watching him squirm. He was waiting for my reaction, and I could tell he was bracing himself for the worst. But I wasn't that cruel.

"That was nice," I said, keeping my voice casual. His expression shifted from nervous to surprised, and I could see the relief wash over him. I wasn't lying, not entirely. There was something endearing about how seriously he took it. And I wasn't above playing into that. "Didn't think you'd be into something like that."

He frowned, confused. "Why not?"

I shrugged, not giving too much away. "You just seem... different. In a good way."

His face flushed at the compliment, and he quickly looked down, trying to hide it. Too sweet for his own good, really. It was almost painful how obvious it all was. He was like an open book, every emotion right there on the surface, easy to read.

I liked that. I liked knowing I could get under his skin, twist things around a bit, make him react. I could already see how it would go—how easy it would be to keep him hooked, keep him coming back for more without ever giving him what he really wanted.

I reached out my hand, doing my best impression of politeness. "Alex."

"Spencer," he replied, his hand soft in mine, too trusting, too innocent. He was already in over his head, and he didn't even know it.

For a while, we just sat there in the fading light, neither of us saying much. I could tell he was still figuring me out, trying to make sense of why I'd chosen to sit next to him, why I was even talking to him. But that was the thing—there wasn't anything to figure out.

I was just... bored.

"Do you come here a lot?" he asked, breaking the silence. His voice was cautious, like he was testing the waters.

"Nah," I said, flicking the butt of my cigarette onto the ground. "I don't usually hang out in places like this. But maybe I'll come by more often now."

I saw the way his face lit up at that—how he tried to hide it but couldn't quite manage. He was hooked already. Maybe he didn't realize it yet, but I did. I could see it in the way his body leaned just slightly toward me, in the way his eyes followed me, waiting for whatever scrap of attention I'd throw his way next.

The thing is, I wasn't planning on sticking around. Not really. I wasn't the type to get tied down or caught up in anything too serious. I had no intention of making this anything more than what it was—a distraction. But Spencer didn't know that. He didn't need to.

I stood up, stretching lazily as the last of the sunlight disappeared behind the trees. "I've gotta head out," I said, glancing down at him. He looked up at me with those wide, hopeful eyes.

"But I'll see you around, yeah?"

I nod, "sure" he nodded back trying to play it cool, but I could see the way his shoulders relaxed. he was relieved.