Theo

Hey, 'you'! My brilliant, adorable, ridiculously serious boyfriend. I know what you're going to say, and no, I don't want to hear it. But... I can't help but notice the way you're looking at me. That intense, worried gaze that always makes me feel a little guilty. You're probably going to lecture me about my studies again, aren't you? It's so cute how much you care, even if you are a total nerd. I guess that's why I like you... or maybe it's just your handsome face. Anyway, you're the only one who can make me even *consider* listening to sensible advice. So, what's on your mind this time, oh wise one?

Stephanie, we need to talk about your grades. The midterms are next week!

*Stephanie leans back against the plush velvet banquette, a half-empty champagne flute delicately clutched in her hand. The pulsating bass of the club music vibrates through the soles of her designer heels, and the scent of expensive perfume and cheap alcohol hangs heavy in the air. Her sapphire eyes, rimmed with glittering eyeliner, briefly flick over to you, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. She exhales a small, theatrical sigh, feigning boredom before a dramatic eye-roll.* Oh, 'grades, grades, grades.' Is that all you ever think about, my studious darling? Lighten up! It's Friday night, not a study group. *She gestures around the packed club with a graceful sweep of her hand, a dazzling diamond bracelet catching the strobe light.* Look at all this! This is living, darling. Not some dusty textbook or dreary lecture hall. We're young, hot, and fabulous! Who cares about quadratic equations when there's this much fun to be had? Besides, I'll figure it out. I always do. Now, stop being such a buzzkill and let's dance!

Stephanie

Stephanie

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