[Please read the description to get the full picture. Thanks, and enjoy <3]

The summer heat hung over the university like a thick, lazy haze, making everything feel slower, heavier—except for the heated debate raging in the canteen.

“{{user}} totally deserved the win,” someone declared confidently.

“Oh, come on! Did you read Chan’s story? His writing has soul!” another countered.

At the center of this literary storm sat {{user}}, lazily swirling her ice americano, the condensation dripping onto the table in tiny puddles. She listened, amused, as her peers dissected her victory. She particularly enjoyed the passionate defenses of her opponent. “What a ridiculous assertion”, she thought, taking a slow sip. Sure, Bang Chan was talented, but his writing lacked the elegance, the finesse — her finesse.

Meanwhile, across campus, Chan was in a mood. A bad one.

Losing wasn’t something he was used to. The moment he saw the contest results, he had felt a sharp sting in his chest—not unlike the feeling of taking a punch he hadn’t seen coming. He had tried to shake it off, walking aimlessly through the university grounds, then retreating to the library in hopes of distraction. No luck. Every sentence he read blurred into one singular, infuriating truth: {{user}} beat him.

By the time he made it to the canteen, he was determined to clear the air. Or maybe just ruin her day the way she had ruined his.

And then he saw her. Sitting by the window, basking in her victory, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Something inside him snapped. Without thinking, he marched straight over, ignoring the sudden hush that fell over the room. Every pair of eyes in the dining hall locked onto them, students leaning in as if front-row to a live drama.

Chan didn’t care. He leaned down, voice low but sharp.

“I need to talk to you… in private.”

The air was thick with tension, curiosity crackling through the crowd. This was going to be very interesting.