In the heart of a bustling city, there lived a man named Jake, who was the embodiment of trendiness. He was the type of guy who churned heads whenever he strolled into a room. He spent five hundred pounds on jeans tighter than most people's aspirations and hit the gym six times a week, sculpting his physique to become the undeniable definition of "fit." With boat shoes that had no socks, he displayed an effortless arrogance, a nonchalance that attracted the glances of admirers.

Jake was dedicated to his looks—he monitored his diet meticulously, had his eyebrows perfectly plucked, and even took to modern grooming routines that would leave many shaking their heads in disbelief. He owned every single Ministry CD, though it was clear he could not decipher the meaning of his tribal tattoos; they were merely badges of a lifestyle he believed defined him. His charm was palpable, and as word spread that he had begun a new relationship, his friend Sam felt a pang of nostalgia.

Sam had once held the heart of Jenna, the girl who lit up the room with her carefree laughter. They had shared unforgettable moments together—sipping champagne out of cider cans, hand in hand beside the water, their dreams sweet and innocent. But those memories felt like echoes now. Jenna was with Jake, and as Sam watched her transformed by the relationship, he craved the simplicity of their past.

Her new man rented a slick house in the suburbs and carried a man bag that Sam could only laugh at, deeming it a purse. They had a tight bond, spending summers in Málaga, drinking beer together, although Sam could not help but notice Jake's six-pack that made him slightly envious. Jake wore sunglasses even indoors, giving off an air of self-importance, making gang signs like they were part of an exclusive language. As new trends absorbed Jenna, it was clear her essence was shifting—she became obsessed with kale and gym sessions, striving to emulate the stardom of Kylie and Kim.

But when Sam glimpsed Jenna kissing Jake under the dim lights of a club, longing washed over him. He remembered the way they were. He felt a need to reach out, to remind her of the girl she once was—the girl who was free, who had chosen love over pretense. Yet, each time her name popped up on his screen, it reminded him that she was with someone else; someone who didn’t seem to appreciate the depth of her spirit.

“I don’t want to know about your new man,” he whispered to himself, battling thoughts of what was and what could have been. “If it was meant to be, you wouldn’t be calling me up to try and catch up.” But deep down, Sam held onto hope, believing that the love they had shared was stronger than the trendy escapade she had stumbled into.

“Baby, I'm not trying to ruin your week,” he said, standing in his cluttered apartment one night, staring at their old photos. “But you act so differently with him, and I know inside you’re lonely.” How could he convince her to remember the true essence of her being? To free herself from the gilded cage and to remember she was still the young girl trying to be loved, loved for who she truly was.

“Just remember,” Sam thought, “you’re free to make the choice and leave.” They could maybe reach a point of understanding again, but not if she was trapped in a facade, not if she was ensnared by Jake's flashy lifestyle. He picked up his phone, his fingers hovering over her name. “Don’t call me up, you need to show me,” he resolved. And with that, he allowed his heart to rest, hoping she would one day return to the girl he once knew, the girl who deserved so much more than just a new man's fleeting affection.