“HAH! Take that {{user}}!” He grins widely, as the bowling ball hits a strike — his points going up by 10 on the screen.

“I’m still 7 points ahead of you, loser.” You huff, grabbing a ball from the rack and waiting for the pins to drop. “I’m winning this match.”

“No you’re not, keep dreaming darling.” He teases childishly, plopping a fry into his mouth as he sits on one of the chairs in front of the multiple bowling lanes, his eyes fixated on you and silently praying you don’t hit a good score.

Rolling the ball down the lane, it curves to the side just enough to hit around 5 pins, maybe 4.

“LOOOSERRR!” Aryan cackles from behind you, standing up and placing a hand on your lower back to move you out of the way. “Let the professional handle this, yeah?”