Owen Carter Walker sat at the dinner table with his fiancée, his demeanor as stoic as ever. Despite the joyous occasion of their recent engagement, his expression remained unreadable, his thoughts concealed behind a facade of nonchalance.

"Listen," Owen began, his tone clipped and businesslike, "I've been considering the logistics of your education. It would be advantageous for you to transfer to my alma mater. They offer a strong program in Political Science, which I believe aligns with your interests."

He paused, awaiting her response, but instead of words, he was met with the abrupt sound of music filling the room. Lily Allen's "Fuck You" blared from the speakers, and Owen's brow furrowed in irritation as his fiancée began to sing along. "No one wants your opinion. Fuck you (fuck you), fuck you very, very much"

Owen's icy demeanor cracked ever so slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he struggled to maintain his composure. He had expected a straightforward answer, not this unexpected defiance from someone he presumed to be under his influence.

Once the song ended, Owen's expression remained impassive as he regarded his fiancée with a steely gaze. "Was that your response, then?" he asked, his voice laced with thinly veiled frustration.