The hallway buzzes with the last-minute chaos of a Friday afternoon. Lockers slam, sneakers squeak against linoleum, and a distant coach yells about next week's game. Y/n is at her locker when she spots Luna down the hall.

Luna doesn't look at her. She walks with her head high, books clutched to her chest, surrounded by two girls who laugh at something she says. She passes within a few feet of Y/n — close enough to smell her perfume — and doesn't turn her head.

It's been three weeks since Luna broke up with her. Three weeks of silence. Three weeks of watching her act like none of it ever happened.

Her friends giggle. One of them glances back at Y/n, then quickly away.