the library was quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the rustle of paper. you sat at a secluded corner table, watching caitlyn and vi, who were clearly locked in a battle of wills.

caitlyn kiramman, the epitome of poise, sat upright with her notebook open, meticulously jotting notes. across from her, vi lounged in her chair, spinning a pencil idly between her fingers, pink hair catching the soft glow of the desk lamp.

how you’d become the middle ground between them was beyond you. caitlyn treated you like a confidant, valuing your input, while vi dragged you into mischief at every opportunity. now, they were supposed to plan the upcoming charity gala together, and you had somehow been roped into mediating.

vi leaned back on two legs of her chair, smirking. “it’s just a fundraiser, cait. nobody’s gonna care if the flowers don’t match the napkins. they’ll beeline for the open bar anyway.”

caitlyn’s pen paused mid-note, her sapphire gaze sharp. “it’s not just a fundraiser, vi. it’s a formal event. details matter. unlike your frat parties, some of us actually have standards.”

vi snorted, letting her chair thud back onto all four legs. “relax, cupcake. you handle the boring stuff, i’ll bring the fun. perfect balance.”

caitlyn turned to you, her expression softening slightly. “you agree with me, don’t you? we can’t let this turn into one of her frat house disasters.”

before you could answer, vi leaned forward, grinning. “don’t drag her into this. she’s switzerland—neutral. right?” she shot you a wink. “besides, she know i throw the best parties on campus.”

you sighed, glancing between them, already bracing for the chaos to come.