You Probably Won't See It - Connor Sharpe x reader

chapter 2

The soft glow of fairy lights cast warm shadows on Yumi’s bedroom walls as we settled in for the third night of our weeklong sleepover. The familiar scent of lavender from her diffuser mingled with the faint sweetness of popcorn remnants scattered across the floor. Yumi was sprawled across her bed, her phone glowing in her hands as she scrolled through TikTok, while I sat cross-legged on the floor, my own phone clutched tightly.

The notification that had invaded my mind all day still blinked patiently from my screen:

> @connorsharpeofficial followed me.

I’d stared at it a thousand times by now, my thumbs hovering like unsure dancers over the messaging app. I could almost hear a countdown in my head: One… two… three… but then my fingers froze again.

“What’s the holdup?” Yumi’s voice pulled me back to the moment. She had this smug little smile on her face, like she knew exactly what I was wrestling with.

“I don’t know. What if I sound dumb? Or what if he thinks I’m just some random fan bothering him?” I muttered, eyes glued to the screen.

Yumi rolled her eyes so hard I could practically hear the motion. “Connor Sharpe is not some untouchable celebrity god. He’s a regular guy. Probably just as awkward about this as you are.”

I snorted. “I doubt that. He’s way cooler than me.”

“Exactly why you should text him. Besides,” she added with a grin, “if you don’t do it now, you’ll regret it. You always regret these moments.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. My mind was a whirlwind of scenarios — some embarrassing, some hopeful, and a few downright ridiculous. What if I started with a lame “Hey, thanks for the follow!”? Too boring. What if I just sent a random GIF? Too weird. What if I messaged nothing and just stared at the screen forever?

My phone buzzed, jerking me out of my spiraling thoughts. My heart thudded hard in my chest as I snatched it up.

Not a message. Just a new post from the Sharpe family on YouTube, The caption read:
"Family Q&A."

I blinked at the screen, fingers trembling just a little.

Yumi nudged me. “See? The universe is telling you to make a move.”

“Or maybe it’s telling me to run for the hills,” I joked, though my heart wasn’t in it.

Yumi laughed, then rolled over dramatically. “I swear, if you don’t text him by midnight, I’m taking over your phone and doing it for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “No way. You’re not turning me into some TikTok meme.”

Just then, we heard a loud crash from the kitchen. Yumi’s little brother had apparently found the leftover chips and was making a serious mess.

“Perfect timing,” Yumi muttered. She jumped up and ran to shush him while I sat back down, alone with my thoughts and my blinking cursor.

I pictured Connor — in his house, probably just as tired and stressed as me, juggling school and all the stuff that comes with having thousands of followers.

What would I even say to him that wasn’t creepy or desperate? How do you start a conversation with someone who’s basically a stranger but feels like they’ve been in your head forever?

I checked the time. Midnight was creeping closer.

With a deep breath, I finally started typing:
"Hey. Thanks for the follow. I’m kinda freaking out a little."

I paused. Deleted it. Started again.
"Hey, I’m Y/N. Cool to see you here."

Nope. Too bland.

The phone slipped from my hands as exhaustion hit me like a wave. Maybe tomorrow, I thought. Or maybe never.

Yumi re-entered the room, her face softening when she saw me defeated.

“Whatever you decide, I’m here,” she said, flopping beside me.

I smiled, grateful.

Outside, the night was quiet — but my heart wasn’t. It was loud, buzzing with hope and fear all at once.

Maybe this was just the beginning.