1936, Washington

Spending your Saturday distributing fliers for Coach Al Ulbrickson was hardly how you envisioned your weekend. But sometimes, you had to make sacrifices for a bit of extra money. Clad in a woolen brown skirt that swirled around your knees, you stood near the entrance of Washington University, bracing against the chilly wind that made your cheeks flush. You clutched a stack of fliers, each one proclaiming:

"THE ROWING CREW OF THE UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON IS SEEKING THE TOP 8 YOUNG MEN FOR THE JV BOAT! TRYOUTS ON JANUARY 6TH AT 8 A.M."

Despite your efforts to attract attention, the bustling students seemed oblivious to your presence. After a fruitless half-hour, you decided to venture inside, where the warmth was a welcome relief. As you wandered through the dimly lit corridors, you distributed fliers to any student who glanced your way.

Your progress halted when you encountered two young men standing by the job board—a corkboard cluttered with notices for various odd jobs and meager wages.

One of them had tousled brown hair and an anxious demeanor, while the other, with striking golden hair, stood taller, his broad shoulders rigid and his posture almost military. The latter’s presence captivated you, drawing your gaze despite the need to distribute your fliers.

They conversed in hushed tones, their expressions a mix of frustration and resignation. Seizing the opportunity, you approached them with a polite but assertive step.

“Excuse me, gentlemen?” Your voice carried through the hallway, catching their attention. Both turned to face you. You hesitated briefly, then continued, “I hope I’m not intruding, but... it seems like you’re seeking employment?”

“Yes, we are,” the blond replied promptly, his voice tinged with both relief and curiosity, looking at you.