Invincible

Magnetic

Chapter 2:

Meur Velasco didn't have to try to get attention—it just came naturally. Every hallway he walked down seemed to part for him like he was perfect.. was he ?

The guys wanted to be him, and the girls all wanted to date him. He was athletic, smart, effortlessly charming.

But Meur knew something they didn't: none of it
mattered.

He could turn on his smile and play the part of the golden boy, but inside, he felt like he was constantly balancing on the edge of a cliff. His moods swung so wildly that sometimes he wasn't sure who he was from one minute to the next. Most people only saw the version of him that he chose to show them, the side of him that was always in control. But when things slipped—when he felt like someone was pulling away from him, or when he wasn't being admired—he could feel that control start to crumble.

That's why Tori caught his eye. She wasn't like anyone else at Glenwood High. She wasn't trying to be noticed, wasn't putting on a show. She was invisible, a ghost among the sea of loud, desperate, attention-seeking faces. Meur could tell that she didn't want to be seen—and that fascinated him. What kind of person could live like that? What kind of person didn't crave the kind of power he held over people every day?

He saw her again after their first encounter, in the same hallway, stuffing books into her locker. The way she moved, so careful and quiet, like she was always bracing for something to go wrong, intrigued him. For someone who kept their head down, she had this energy about her—something fragile and hidden. Meur wanted to break that shell. He wanted to see what she was really like underneath. Maybe if he cracked her open, he could understand why he felt the way he did.

When she turned and saw him standing there again, that same wide-eyed look from their first meeting flashed across her face. He smiled at her, leaning against the lockers with an easy confidence.

"Hey, Tori, right?" he said, watching her tense up.

"Uh, yeah," she mumbled, barely glancing at him as she shoved another book into her backpack.

"You're different, you know that?" Meur's voice had a teasing edge to it, but he wasn't joking. "I mean, you don't care about any of this," he waved his hand vaguely toward the bustling hallway. "All the drama, the popularity contests, the noise. Most people live for this stuff. But you? You just... exist."

Tori blinked up at him, clearly caught off guard. She wasn't used to people talking to her—let alone someone like Meur Velasco. Her silence stretched out, and Meur took a step closer, lowering his voice.

"Why is that?" he asked, genuinely curious now.

Tori looked down, trying to find her words. "I don't know," she muttered. "I guess... it's easier not to care."

Meur raised an eyebrow. Easier not to care? That was a new one. For someone like him, caring was everything—whether it was about being liked, being respected, or having control. The idea of someone just... floating through life, untouched by it all, was almost impossible to understand. And yet, here was Tori, doing exactly that.

But Meur knew there had to be more to her. People didn't just stop caring for no reason. Something had happened to her to make her this way, and Meur wanted to figure out what it was. He wasn't entirely sure why—maybe it was just curiosity, or maybe it was the challenge of pulling someone like her out of the shadows. Either way, he was hooked.

"You know, I think I get it," Meur said, watching her carefully. "You probably think I'm just another one of those assholes who thrives on this high school crap, huh? But that's not all there is to me."

Tori looked up at him then, meeting his gaze for the first time. She didn't say anything, but her eyes held a question.

"I'm just saying, maybe we're not that different. Not really." Meur's voice was soft now, almost conspiratorial. "You hide because you don't want anyone to see you. I hide because I don't want anyone to see who I really am."

There it was—honesty, or at least a version of it. Tori's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of understanding passing over her face. For the first time, someone saw her, not as the awkward loner or the butt of some cruel joke, but as something more.

Before Tori could respond, the bell rang, and the hallway began to empty out. Meur pushed off from the lockers, his charming smile slipping back into place as easily as flipping a switch.

"I'll see you around, Tori," he said, walking away without waiting for a reply.

As he disappeared into the crowd, Tori stood there, frozen, her heart racing in her chest. For the first time in as long as she could remember, someone had seen her. Really seen her.

And Tori couldn't decide if that terrified her—or

thrilled her.

https://youtu.be/VFwpGESM-tQ?si=TorYn5yOhkghGMrv