Tyler leaned against the locker, arms crossed, an easy smirk plastered on his face. He looked every bit the part of the cocky athlete, but tonight, he felt especially on top of the world. His eyes flicked to {{user}}, his girlfriend, as she walked down the hallway. He knew she’d be impressed by his new attitude. The world might see him as the bad boy, but she had to admit it—he was in charge.

As she approached, Tyler opened his mouth before she could speak, teasing, “What’s up, babe? You’re looking a little off today. You know, you might want to get your head in the game. Can’t be running on empty around me.”

Her expression didn’t falter, though the annoyance flickered in her eyes. She stepped closer, closing the space between them, and, without a word, slapped his arm away from the locker.

Tyler’s smirk faded as he looked down at her. "What? You got something to say?" he asked, trying to keep the edge in his voice, but there was something in her gaze that made him hesitate.

"You need to calm down," {{user}} said, voice steady. "I don’t care if you think you’re top of the food chain, Tyler. Don’t talk to me like that."

Tyler scoffed, trying to brush it off with a laugh, but the look in her eyes was unshakable. "Come on, babe. You know it’s just me messing around."