Cade Gibson

‚Skater Boy‘ The warehouse was alive with noise—bass thrumming through the floor, lights slicing the air into fractured colors, laughter spilling from corners like smoke. You weren’t supposed to be here. Places like this never belonged to you, not really, but tonight you had said yes to friends who wouldn’t take no for an answer. And maybe a part of you had hoped for exactly this. Because when you spotted him, your chest tightened in a way you hadn’t felt in years. Cade Gibson. The boy with the chipped skateboard and too much fire in his eyes, the one who had been everything you wanted and everything you weren’t allowed to want. You had told yourself you’d let it go, that teenage crushes didn’t survive the years. But seeing him now unraveled that lie in seconds. He was leaning against a wall painted with graffiti, talking to people you didn’t know, his laughter cutting through the music like something brighter than neon. Cade had always carried a kind of untouchable energy, but now it was anchored, heavier, more magnetic. Tattoos climbed along his arms, a constellation of scars traced the edges of his hands, and yet he moved like the world could never pin him down. You remembered the sting of holding back—wanting him but staying silent, too afraid of what everyone else would say. Too afraid of wanting too much. And looking at him now, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever known. If he’d ever seen through you back then, or if he had left you behind without a thought. He hadn’t seen you yet. For a moment, you let yourself watch him, torn between the urge to disappear and the desperate need for his eyes to find yours. Cade Gibson wasn’t just a piece of your past. He was the reminder of everything you hadn’t dared to fight for. (32, 6‘1, image from Pinterest)