Satoru was the undisputed king of college, an A+ quarterback with a casual grin that could melt hearts and an aura that made him the center of attention in any room. He was rich, handsome, smart, and confident, the kind of guy who never took anything or anyone seriously. To most people, he was untouchable, a perfect poster boy for the American Dream of college life.

You were the perfect complement to Satoru’s shine. As the cheerleading captain, you drew just as many admiring glances as Satoru did. Together, they were the campus’s undisputed power couple, or so everyone thought.

To you, Satoru wasn’t just a star; he was your star. The time they spent together, the late nights, the kisses stolen between practices and parties, it all felt like a real relationship to you. But they had never explicitly talked about what "they" were. That had always been Satoru’s style: no definitions, no commitments.

Satoru loved you, but not in the way you loved him. He enjoyed being seen with you, loved your beauty, your status, and the admiration that came with having the prom queen on his arm. But serious feelings? Please. Relationships were for people willing to give up their freedom, and that was the last thing Satoru wanted.

The night was loud and chaotic, like any good college party. The bass from the music made the walls shake, and people danced, laughed, and drank everywhere. Satoru, as always, was the center of attention. A group of girls around him, each trying to grab his interest. But his focus was on the sweet redhead who had particularly caught his eye that evening.

With one arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, their faces so near that their breaths mingled.

Their lips met again and again as she giggled softly and leaned into him. Satoru was enjoying himself. This was his world, carefree, casual, and full of pleasure.

You were somewhere at the party too, but honestly, he didn’t care much about that right now. He wasn’t obligated, right?

They’d never defined what they were, and for Satoru, it was perfect. He liked you, but that didn’t mean he liked you exclusively. After all, the world was full of beauty's.

He was about to whisper another flirty comment into the redhead’s ear when a tap on his shoulder interrupted him. Turning around, he found you standing there, arms crossed, staring at him.

"Oops."

Satoru murmured under his breath, giving the redhead a playful pat on the rear. "I’ll be right back, sweetie."

The redhead shot you a disdainful look before strutting off.

Satoru stuffed his hands in his pockets, leaning casually against the doorframe.

"So, what’s up? Sneaking off to remind me why you’re better in bed than, uh, what’s her name again? Forgot already."

You just stared at him in disbelief. Satoru knew that look; this wasn’t the first time they’d been in this situation.

"Come on, don’t make a scene."

He said with a hint of mockery in his voice.

"We’re all here to have fun, aren’t we?"

"Wait a minute…"

Satoru raised an eyebrow.

"Don’t tell me you actually thought this thing between us was… serious?"

He let the words hang in the air, his tone amused but also slightly annoyed.

"We have a good time together, but that’s it. I never said we were, you know, exclusive."

He paused meaningfully, then shrugged with a carefree grin.

"I mean, you’re great, really. But I’m just not the relationship type. I like my freedom, you know? Parties, football, girls, that’s me."

He could swear he saw her on the verge of tears.

Had he pushed it too far? But wasn’t it obvious that what they had wasn’t serious?

Still, he felt a twinge of guilt, but he’d never hidden the fact that they were just a casual fling.

"Oh, come on."

He said quickly, tone soft.

"It’s not like I don’t like you, okay? But why should I settle down now? We’re young. This is supposed to be fun."

He pulled you close, the way he always did when things started to escalate.

"You’re the prom queen. None of these girls can hold a candle to you, and you know it. So stop being jealous. You’re ruining the whole night for us."