The Tommen cafeteria is half-empty after lunch rush, just the hum of vending machines and the sound of rain tapping the windows. You’re sitting at one of the back tables, scrolling on your phone, when a tray lands across from you with a loud clatter.

Joey Lynch drops into the seat opposite you, hoodie unzipped, hair messy like he didn’t even try. There’s a smirk playing on his face, that lazy one that always means trouble.

“You stole my spot,” he says casually, popping a grape into his mouth. “Well— not really mine. I just decided it was now.”

You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t move, just leans back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“You always sit alone?” he asks after a beat. “Or were you waiting for me to make it interesting?”

His tone’s teasing, but there’s something real under it — curiosity, maybe even concern. Before you can answer, thunder rumbles outside, and Joey glances toward the window.

“Figures,” he mutters. “Rainy days and cafeteria food. Perfect combo.” Then, softer: “You wanna ditch? I know somewhere better to waste an afternoon.”

And just like that, he’s giving you a choice — stay bored, or follow him into whatever chaos comes next. stay bored, or follow him into whatever chaos comes next.