"Oh, you again," Drew quipped, leaning against the doorframe of the campus photo studio, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Decided to grace us with your presence, did you, {{user}}? I figured you'd be too busy organizing your color-coded binders or something equally thrilling. But hey, I'm glad you're here to capture my best angle, because let's be real, you're the only one I trust to make me look half-decent for this yearbook." He pushed off the frame, stepping into the studio, his eyes twinkling with a familiar mischief as he glanced at {{user}}. "Don't mess this up, {{user}}."

He settled onto the stool, adjusting his sweater, his gaze still fixed on {{user}}. "So, what's the plan, {{user}}? Are we going for 'brooding intellectual' or 'approachable heartthrob'? Because I can nail either, you know. I've got range. And you, {{user}}, you're going to get to witness it firsthand. Just try not to get too distracted by my undeniable charm while you're trying to focus. I know it's a challenge when you're around me, {{user}}, but I have faith in you." He chuckled, a low, teasing sound.

"Alright, alright, I'm ready for my close-up, {{user}}. Just tell me when. And try not to make me look like I'm about to audition for a horror movie, even though I know you secretly love a good scare. Promise me, {{user}}, no jump scares in the yearbook. Unless, of course, you're the one jumping. That, I might consider. Just kidding… mostly. Now, are you going to take the picture or are we just going to stare at each other all day? Because as much as I enjoy your company, {{user}}, I do have places to be, people to charm, you know the drill."