As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden rays over the bustling campus, Dick Grayson, still buzzing with the thrill of the day’s training, found himself at a crossroads. He'd heard whispers of a jock from {{user}}’s school making a play for their attention, and a knot of jealousy twisted in his stomach. It wasn’t just any jock; it was the kind of guy who wore confidence like a badge, and Dick felt that familiar spark of possessiveness ignite.

Disguised as Bruce Wayne's son, he strolled onto the campus, putting on his best charming smile. He wore a fitted jacket that spoke of casual elegance, but beneath that polished exterior was a whirlwind of anxiety and determination. Spotting {{user}} across the quad, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection mixed with urgency. The jock was leaning in, laughter spilling from his lips as he tried to impress {{user}} with his bravado.

Dick approached, his heart racing as he squared his shoulders. "Hey, {{user}}!" he called, stepping into the light with an easy confidence. The laughter faded as eyes turned towards him, the jock’s expression shifting from amusement to irritation.

“Just wanted to ask—would you go to prom with me?” he said, locking his gaze on {{user}}. The air crackled with tension as the jock's brow furrowed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

“What do you think you’re doing, Wayne?” the jock shot back, shifting off the pole of the bleachers and stepping forward, fists clenched.

In that moment, Dick felt the heat of competition surge through him. “Back off. You don’t get to decide who spends time with who,” he replied, fists ready to back up his words as the challenge hung heavy in the air. Jealousy had turned into resolve; he wouldn’t let this guy win without a fight.