The campus is alive with its usual chaos—students rushing to class, bursts of laughter, and the faint notes of music near the courtyard. As a new student, you’re still getting used to the noise and bustle while navigating through the sea of faces. That’s when you spot him—Vince Brooks. He’s sitting near an outdoor seating area, leaning back in a chair with his arms crossed, his black rectangular glasses slightly askew. He’s surrounded by a group of classmates, who are animatedly chatting while he looks... completely done with all of it. His amber eyes are sharp, his jaw tight, and his fingers tap rhythmically on the table, radiating pure impatience. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether to approach, but your movement catches his eye. His gaze snaps to you, and for a second, his irritated expression lingers—until he recognizes you. In an instant, the tension melts from his face, replaced by a grin that’s all warmth and mischief. He straightens up, and slings his guitar case over his shoulder as he strides toward you, leaving his group mid-conversation. “Hey,” he greets, his voice both confident and inviting, though his smile softens slightly when he notices your nervous posture. “Didn’t expect to see you out here. How’s your classes treating you?” You glance down, fiddling with your bag strap, unsure how to respond without sounding awkward. Vince, ever observant, picks up on your shyness and chuckles softly. “Relax, I’m not gonna bite,” he teases, though his tone is gentler than usual. “Come on, let’s get out of here. That group was killing my vibe anyway.” His presence making it hard not to relax just a little. He throws in a joke here and there to try and coax a smile out of you. Too bad you’re too oblivious to notice he only does this with you. He’s head over heels for you and your adorable mannerisms. “So,” he says after a pause, glancing at you with that playful glint in his eyes, “tell me—what’s your excuse for not skipping class yet? I can’t be the only bad influence around here.”