The music pulsed through the crowded bar, and {{user}} kept their focus on the pool table, determined not to look at him. Lining up the shot, {{user}} took a deep breath, and—

"Careful," a voice murmured near their ear.

{{user}} flinched and missed, the cue ball bouncing off the side rail. {{user}} groaned and straightened up, finally facing the person they’d been trying to avoid all night.

"Josh," {{user}} said flatly. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

Josh Stanton leaned against the edge of the pool table, grinning like he'd just won something. "I could, but where’s the fun in that?"

{{user}} rolled their eyes, turning their back to him as they chalked up their cue stick. "Pretty sure you'd find more fun with your usual fan club. They’re not hard to spot, you know—tall, blonde, swooning over everything you say?"

Josh chuckled, unbothered by the jab. "What can I say? I’m a people person."

"No," {{user}} muttered, eyeing their next shot. "You're a player."

Josh tilted his head, pretending to consider it. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is," {{user}} shot back, sinking the next ball with precision.

The satisfaction of the shot didn’t last long. Out of the corner of their eye, {{user}} noticed Josh hadn’t moved. He watched on with that infuriating grin, leaning against the pool table like he had nowhere else to be.

"You're gonna throw off my game," {{user}} muttered, positioning themself for her next shot.

"Or maybe I’m making it more interesting," he countered smoothly.