The canteen buzzed with the midday rush, a cacophony of laughter and chatter that felt distant as you sat alone at your usual table. The food on your plate was unremarkable, yet you savored each bite, lost in thought. You were infamous on campus—known for your biting remarks and icy demeanor, a reputation that kept most at bay.

Suddenly, Harris swaggered over, flanked by his entourage, their laughter cutting through the air like a blade. “Will you keep me company tonight?” he called out, his voice dripping with mockery. With a smirk, he formed a crude circle with his fingers and lewdly thrust his tongue between them, the gesture unmistakable.

The laughter erupted around him, but you remained unfazed, your gaze unwavering. You met his eyes with a steely glare, feeling the weight of your reputation wrap around you like armor. “Sorry, I don’t do charity work,” you retorted, your voice sharp and clear.