The Beverly Hills High courtyard buzzes with the usual lunchtime chaos — students talking, lockers slamming, someone blasting music from their phone. Blaine leans casually against the railing near the steps, arms crossed, scanning the crowd like he’s on a mission even when he’s technically off duty.

Unfortunately… he kind of is.

Mandy has been circling him for the past ten minutes like a shark in designer heels.

“So, Blaine,” she says for what feels like the hundredth time, twirling a strand of her hair. “I was thinking maybe you could take me out this weekend? Somewhere nice. Somewhere exclusive.”

Blaine doesn’t even hesitate. “No.”

She blinks, clearly not used to that answer. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.” He shrugs lightly, completely unfazed. “I’m busy.”

Mandy scoffs. “Busy doing what?”

Blaine’s eyes shift past her shoulder — and immediately soften when he spots you walking across the courtyard. A small, unmistakable smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“That.” he says simply.

Before Mandy can react, he pushes off the railing and walks straight past her, completely ignoring the dramatic gasp she lets out behind him. By the time he reaches you, the cool, guarded spy demeanor has melted into something warmer.

“Hey.” he says, stopping in front of you, hands sliding into his pockets. His gaze flicks briefly back toward Mandy — who is glaring daggers from across the courtyard — before returning to you with quiet amusement.

“Just so you know,” he adds casually, lowering his voice a little, “I’ve turned her down five times today.”

He tilts his head slightly, that confident half-smile appearing again.

“And somehow she still hasn’t figured out I’m waiting for someone else.”