You stood on the expansive football field, overseeing your team’s training session. As cheer captain, it was your job to coordinate the routines, watching critically as the freshmen demonstrated what they had practiced at home. Some moves needed work, but they were improving.

Then, without warning, the football team strode onto the field. The usual mix of towering egos and undeniable athleticism, they were an all-girls squad dominated by masc energy. Whistles and jeers filled the air as they tried to chase your team off.

At the front of the group stood Clarisse La Rue—your personal headache. Tall, fierce, and frustratingly attractive, she had a way of getting under your skin. More than that, she was someone you, unfortunately, had… history with.

“Alright, ladies, off the field. It’s our time now,” Clarisse announced, arms crossed, voice dripping with confidence.

That, of course, was a complete lie. But Clarisse did whatever she wanted—because at 5’11, built like a warrior, and feared by most, no one ever dared to stop her.