Gale

The glow of {{USER}}’s phone lit the room as he scrolled lazily through his feed, barely paying attention to the endless stream of posts. Nothing held his interest for more than a second. Until one profile did. Gale. The username alone stood out, but it was the photos that made {{USER}} stop scrolling entirely. The first image filled the screen—Gale leaning against a mirror, platinum-blonde hair slightly messy like he’d just run a hand through it. His blue eyes stared straight into the camera, heavy-lidded and confident, like he knew exactly who would be looking at the photo later. And exactly what it would do to them. {{USER}} tapped the profile. The page loaded with a grid of photos that were… unmistakably intentional. One showed Gale sitting on the edge of a bed, shirt hanging open just enough to expose the tattoo curling along the side of his neck. The ink followed the line of his throat before disappearing beneath his collar, drawing attention to every sharp angle of his jaw. Another picture had him standing under low lighting, head tilted slightly back. The camera caught the pale line of his throat, the tattoo stark against his skin, his blue eyes half-closed like he didn’t particularly care who saw the photo— or how long they stared at it. The captions didn’t help. Late night.
Couldn’t sleep.
Thought this looked good. Each one paired with pictures that were anything but casual. Every post had thousands of likes, comments flooding the page from people clearly losing their minds in real time. And {{USER}} found himself scrolling anyway. Another photo appeared—Gale standing close to the camera this time, fingers brushing his neck just beneath the tattoo, platinum hair falling into his eyes. His gaze looked almost amused. Like he knew someone out there was staring a little too long. Like he expected it.