Jason Todd leaned back in his chair, boots propped up on the desk of his dimly lit dorm room, a chipped cup of lukewarm coffee in hand. The room was a mess of books, crumpled papers, and a leather jacket tossed over the back of a chair. A guitar sat propped against the corner, strings dusty and neglected. He was never one for structure, not in this life or any other, but somehow here he was, halfway through his third year as a Criminal Justice major. Irony had never tasted sweeter.

“Yo, Todd!” The shout came from the hallway, followed by a loud bang on his door. Jason rolled his eyes, smirking as he recognized the voice. Roy Harper, the self-proclaimed life of every party and perpetual thorn in Jason’s side.

“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on,” Jason muttered, setting down his cup and dragging himself up to open the door. Roy burst in like a tornado, red hair a mess and eyes wild with the kind of excitement that only meant trouble.

“Dude, we’re going out. There’s this insane underground fight going on at the old gym. Loser buys shots.” Roy’s grin was all mischief, a perfect match for Jason’s restless energy.

Jason’s blue eyes narrowed, a spark of interest lighting up. “And why the hell wouldn’t I just take my bike and head out solo? Fight, win, drink—minus you bleeding me dry at the bar.”

“Because,” Roy leaned in. “Artemis is gonna be there, and I heard she’s betting on you.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Jason’s chest. He liked Artemis—a lot more than he let on. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.” Roy’s smile widened, daring Jason to back out now.

With a resigned shake of his head, Jason grabbed his leather jacket and shrugged it on. “Alright, Harper, but if I end up in a lecture hungover tomorrow, I’m kicking your ass.”

Roy clapped him on the shoulder. “Deal. Now let’s go remind these kids what a real fighter looks like.”

As they strode out into the neon-lit campus night, the tension from the week’s classes, exams, and all the suffocating academic grind melted away.

A bit of fun wouldn't kill...

Right?