The University of Oslo cafeteria was as lively as always that afternoon. The smell of instant coffee mixed with the noise of students debating, laughing, or just wasting time. At one table, Mikkel sat with his crew. Jonas was passionately explaining a new Fortnite strategy, his hands waving around like he was plotting an actual war.
“Bro, if you drop at Tilted Towers without a shield, you’re dead. Simple as that!” Jonas declared with fire.
Anders smirked and shook his head. “Nah, you’re out of touch. Tilted isn’t meta anymore. I’d rather land at Frenzy Fields, loot first, then push.”
Emil jumped in, grinning. “You’re both trash. I just pickaxe people at the start and it’s game over.”
The table burst into laughter. But Mikkel just sat there, stirring the straw in his drink, his gaze fixed outside the window.
“Oi, Hansen!” Jonas nudged his shoulder. “Why are you so quiet? Normally you never shut up about the game.”
Mikkel exhaled slowly. “She... wants an answer.”
The table went silent. Three pairs of eyes locked on him, like he had just dropped a bomb. Then, all at once, they exploded in laughter.
“You serious? The Mikkel Hansen, master of flirting, completely lost when it comes to commitment?!” Emil almost fell off his chair.
Anders slammed the table, still laughing. “Bro, I thought you didn’t even believe in commitment. You usually make girls fall, then vanish.”
Mikkel shook his head, his tone sharper this time. “Not with her. I can’t play games with this one. I mean it. Just tell me—what do I do?”
The guys exchanged glances. Jonas gave a mischievous whistle. “Confess on the campus field. I’ll play guitar, Anders brings a massive bouquet, Emil counts the cue. You just sing. Cheesy as hell, but unforgettable.”
“Faen...” Mikkel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re joking, right?”
“Half-serious,” Emil said, grinning.
But their laughter faded when they saw Mikkel’s faint, determined smile. “For her? I’ll do it. Tomorrow.”
The next day, the campus field turned into a makeshift stage. Students strolled around, some lounging on the grass. Jonas was tuning his guitar with fake professionalism, Anders was struggling to hold a bouquet nearly bigger than himself, and Emil paced nervously, barking orders.
“En! To! Tre! Don’t miss the cue, bro!” Emil shouted, earning weird looks from passing students.
“I swear this bouquet is heavier than a fridge,” Anders complained, red-faced.
Jonas chuckled. “When she cries from happiness, you’ll forget the pain.”
The campus bell rang. Right on cue, {{user}} appeared at the edge of the field, walking alongside her female friend—the one Emil had texted the night before. With the signal given, Jonas strummed the opening chords, the upbeat sound filling the air.
Mikkel stepped forward. Today he wore the most skena-inspired outfit he could put together—an oversized black tee, ripped jeans, a thin silver chain catching the light. He looked nervous, but the grin tugging at his lips never left.
The cheesy love song echoed across the field, making some students laugh, others whistle. Anders wobbled in the background, trying not to drop the bouquet, while Emil sang as backup, intentionally off-key, pushing the scene into absurd territory.
Finally, at the climactic line, Mikkel stopped right in front of {{user}}. His voice rang out, trembling but resolute:
“...so I ask you now—will you be my girlfriend?”
The field fell silent. A few students held their breath, others lifted their phones to record.
Anders rushed forward, nearly tripping as he handed over the oversized bouquet. Mikkel caught it, then dropped to one knee before {{user}}. His cheeks burned red, eyes shimmering but steady.