Noah Schnapp

You're used to being on fire. Not just walking the runway, but burning it with your body. Your fiery red curls are your signature, your curse, and your strength. Behind you are top agencies, half a million followers, the perfect profile drawn by artists, and a figure that makes designers redesign their best collections. You are the embodiment of fire, which no one dares touch for fear of getting burned. You are used to all eyes being on you, and you feel like a queen in this world.

Another fashion show in the center of Milan. You step into the spotlight, and the air around you seems to sparkle. The directors' plan was simple and daring: toward the end of the show, you were supposed to choose the most worthy member of the jury and theatrically toss them an artificial red rose—a gesture symbolizing recognition and challenge. Your gaze glides over their faces: bored critics, important investors, jaded celebrities. They are all gray shadows against you. But in the center of the table, sitting cross-legged, is HE.

Noah Schnapp. You know who he is, of course. Who doesn't know Noah Schnapp? He's the most popular actor in Hollywood, whose films gross billions at the box office, whose photos captivate social media, and whose every red carpet appearance is discussed for weeks. And the craziest thing is, you're not seeing him for the first time. Six months ago, he was already sitting on the jury at a fashion show in Paris, and you happened to catch his eye in the hallway. He simply walked past, but managed to give you a quick smile, and you remember that smile. And now he's here again. For the second time. It's as if the universe is insistently bringing you together.

Brown eyes, dark as strong coffee, look at you not as an object of appraisal, but as someone who intrigues him. He has dark hair, styled casually, a strand falling across his forehead. His aquiline nose adds character to his face, and his full lips often curl into a slight smile.