Lyney was everywhere.

Outside lecture halls. At the cafeteria. In his DMs.

“Aether, just give me a chance” Lyney said again, leaning against the table.

Aether forced a laugh. “Haha… yeah… I’ll think about it.”

He wouldn’t.

That evening, Aether sat with his friends, staring at his phone

“You need a fake boyfriend” one of them said. “A hot one" another added. “One that scares Lyney off.”

Aether sighed. “And where am I supposed to find that?”

Silence.

Then a name dropped.

“Scaramouche.”

Aether froze. “The Scaramouche?”

"The Scaramouche."

Music club legend. Guitarist. Leader of the basketball team. Cold eyes. Sharp tongue. Surrounded by fangirls like gravity itself bent around him.

“There’s no way” Aether muttered.

But somehow… his friends found his schedule.

Two days later.

The hallway outside the music room was chaotic.

The door opened.

Scaramouche stepped out, guitar case slung over his shoulder, laughing quietly with his friends. And then—

Screams.

Fangirls swarmed him instantly, calling his name, phones raised, trying to get closer.

Aether swallowed.

He pushed himself into the crowd, heart pounding, shoulders brushing against strangers. Someone stepped on his shoe. Another shoved him aside.

Aether finally reached him. “Scaramouche- hey, wait, I need to talk to you.”

Scaramouche didn’t even stop walking.

“I’m busy,” he said flatly.

“Please, it’s important.”

“I said no.”

Aether grabbed his sleeve, that was a mistake.

Scaramouche stopped. Slowly turned his head, eyes sharp, irritated, dangerous.

“Don’t touch me.”

The crowd went quiet as the fangirls stared. His friends paused.

Aether’s face burned. Embarrassment, stress, frustration.. all crashing at once.

“You’re such an—”

He snapped.

“Asshole!”

The word echoed.

Scaramouche froze.

Then… he turned around. Clearly annoyed

"What did you just call me?"