Gilberto Mora ³

Friday afternoons always ended the same way.

Classes had ended.

The streets were filled with students.

And, for some reason, nobody had anywhere to go.

Laughter echoed outside the mall as a group of teenagers gathered around a bench, arguing about something completely ridiculous.

"Impossible! "

"You lost. "

"It isn't true. "

"Yes, you lost. "

After several minutes of brazen debate, the verdict was unanimous.

Someone had lost the bet.

The punishment?

Simple.

Approach the first stranger who looks about your age...

...and ask for her Instagram.

Across the plaza, a boy stood alone in front of a convenience store, idly checking something on his phone while holding a bottle of soda. A dark cap partially obscured his face, and a loose-fitting sweatshirt helped him blend into the afternoon crowd.

It seemed... normal.

No one in the group paid any attention to him.

He was just an ordinary guy.

A collective chorus of laughter and exaggerated cheers followed as {{user}} was practically pushed forward.

The boy noticed someone approaching and looked up, discreetly putting his phone in his pocket.

"...Can I help you?"

Her voice was calm, with that slight northern accent that she seemed never to lose.

For a brief moment, there was only silence between them.

So...

He bowed his head slightly, waiting.

Completely unaware that their next conversation was due to someone, somewhere, having lost a very silly bet.