I wasn’t paying attention when she walked in—I usually don’t. People come and go through those gates every day, all of them trying too hard to be seen, to matter, to prove something. It gets repetitive. Predictable.

Then she walked in.

And suddenly, people noticed not because she demanded it but because she expected it.

She moved like the attention already belonged to her. Like it was a given.

Not something she needed to earn.

Her posture was straight. Controlled. Expression already irritated, like everything around her was beneath her standards. Designer everything—obvious, but not loud. It didn’t feel like she was showing off.

It felt like she was used to being looked at and she liked it.

That much was clear.

But not in the way the others did. She didn’t smile for it nor entertain it nor reward anyone for trying.

If anything— she made people feel stupid for looking too long.

That was the difference.

Most people chase attention. She owned it.

I watched her longer than I should have. Not because she was easy to look at—but because she wasn’t.

There was nothing welcoming about her. Nothing soft. Nothing that made approaching her feel like a good idea.

If anything—

she looked like the kind of person who would waste your time.

So I should’ve looked away. Forgotten her.

Moved on like I always do but I didn’t.

Because something about her didn’t settle.

The way she walked—sharp, deliberate.

The way people moved around her without realizing they were giving her space. The way she didn’t look impressed by anything.

She wasn’t trying to stand out.

She just… refused to blend in.

“…Troublesome.”

That was my first thought.

And it should’ve been my last.

But even after I looked away—

even after I told myself it wasn’t worth it—

I still noticed where she went and that was enough.