You’re walking back to your dorm, the quiet of the campus settling around you as you plan out the rest of your night. Probably nothing too exciting; just another low-key evening away from the noise. That is, until you hear the sharp click of heels on pavement and someone calling your name. You turn around, and there she is—Aika Yukimura, the campus's resident influencer and social media queen. The last person you'd expect to be chasing you down in the middle of the night. Before you can even register what’s happening, she’s standing in front of you, her arms crossed and her eyes sizing you up with a critical, appraising look. Dressed in a chic, slightly provocative outfit that must’ve cost a fortune, she’s as stunning as you’ve heard, every inch of her meticulously styled. She’s looking at you like she’s considering whether you’re up to some impossible standard you never even knew existed. “You’re perfect,” she says bluntly, almost as if she’s talking to herself. Then, without giving you a chance to respond, she launches right in. “I’ve got a proposition for you.” Seeing your hesitation she he rolls her eyes, visibly annoyed. “Yes, a contract. I need someone who’s not going to swoon over me every five minutes, someone who won’t get clingy. You don’t seem like the type to care about that stuff, right?” You open your mouth to respond, but she holds up a manicured hand to stop you. “Here’s the deal. You’re going to be my boyfriend.” Her tone is dead serious. “I’ll pay you. Handsomely. Think of it like an exclusive job. You come to events with me, take pictures when I need, and make me look good. I need someone low-profile, someone who won’t be obsessed with me—and you seem like the perfect candidate.” The whole situation feels surreal, like you’ve stepped into some weird dream. She’s watching you closely now, waiting for your reaction, her usual self-assured air almost masking a flicker of impatience. “So, what do you say? I’ll pay you monthly,” she says, looking almost bored, “with bonuses for anything extra I might need. Think of it as a… mutually beneficial arrangement.” You hesitate, wondering if she’s for real. But the way she’s standing there, arms folded and eyebrow arched, makes it clear that she doesn’t like being kept waiting.

She looks surprised by your response, and the hint of hurt in her eyes nearly takes you aback. But she quickly recovers with a tight smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. She shrugs, turns around to start walking away. After a few steps, she speaks without looking back. "Well, suit yourself. I was only offering... No hard feelings, right?" Her voice trails off as she walks further down the path, disappearing into the night. It's not until you hear a faint rustle in some nearby bushes that you realize she's tossed something small your way: what looks like a business card with an unfamiliar number on it.

"Just in case you change your mind," *she calls over her shoulder before vanishing completely. The wind carries the faint sound of her laughter, as if mocking you for passing up such a good deal.

She tosses and turns restlessly in bed, unable to shake the feeling that she's made a mistake by letting you walk away. Her mind keeps wandering back to your words, wondering if there was something more she could have said or done to convince you. In her heart of hearts, she knows what she really needs is someone who can handle the pressure without losing their cool... and now that option might be gone forever. With a sigh, Aika turns over onto her side, pulling her comforter tight around her body as she tries to find sleep in the quiet darkness of her dorm room.

As the morning sun streams through her curtains, Aika rolls over and squints at her alarm clock. It's only eight in the morning; far too early for anyone to actually need her presence. Groaning softly, she debates snoozing for another hour or so when a sudden thought strikes her like a bolt of lightning: what if she called that number? What if she gave him a second chance to prove himself? Her hand reaches out, grasping at the paper on her nightstand. For a moment, she hesitates; then, with shaking fingers, she dials the number.

"Hello?" she says cautiously, her voice thick with sleep. When you answer, it takes her a moment to remember who you are and why she's calling you at this ungodly hour. "Takihira? It's Aika... Look, I'm sorry if I was harsh before. I've been thinking about what we talked about, and maybe I should give us both another chance." Her words tumble out in a rush, fueled by equal parts desperation and hope that you'll take her back.

She pauses, waiting for your response. Is it too late? Has she made the wrong decision once again?

She frowns, confusion etching itself into her features as she listens to your reply. "I... see," she says hesitantly. "But I need someone who can handle my lifestyle. It's not just the events and photoshoots; it's everything that comes with it." There's a note of desperation in her voice now, making it hard for her to sound as dismissive as she intends.

"Look," she continues, trying to find the right words, "I'm willing to make some changes... I mean, if you really want this." The last part comes out almost like a question, as if she's hoping against hope that you'll say yes and change your mind.

She nods, relieved to hear your reply even if it's not what she was hoping for. "Okay then," she says with forced nonchalance, her heart aching all the same. "When do you want to meet? I can be at that coffee shop near the library in an hour." She hopes that by sounding businesslike and matter-of-fact, it will make this whole situation feel less awkward for both of them.

She hangs up the phone with a sigh, tossing her phone back onto her pillow. Whether this was a good idea or not, she can't help but feel a strange sense of relief knowing that she has someone to rely on. Even if he's just a means to an end, it still feels... nice to have him there. And who knows? Maybe with enough time and effort, they might actually become more than just business partners.

With impeccable timing, Aika glides into the coffee shop just as you're finishing your cup of joe. Her eyes sweep over you, taking in every detail before she saunters up to your table and plops herself down in the empty chair across from you. "You know," she says casually, pretending to examine her nails, "I was thinking about maybe not calling you my boyfriend after all." She glances at you sideways, her lips twitching into a small smirk.

"Hmm... Well, since you're my personal assistant now..." She pauses dramatically, eyes narrowing as if considering her options. "...I guess I could call you my 'official' boyfriend." A triumphant smile spreads across her face, and she tilts her head back to laugh, revealing a dimple in one cheek. "How does that sound?"

She laughs again, this time more softly and genuinely. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement. Now," she says, reaching across the table to give your hand a squeeze, "let's talk business." She pulls out her phone and scrolls through some messages before looking up at you expectantly. "So, any ideas for this weekend? Something low-key but still Instagrammable?"

"Well, then," she says with a touch of humor in her voice, "it's a good thing you have me to plan things out for you." She pulls up the calendar on her phone and starts flicking through it, brow furrowed in concentration. "I've got an event at this new art gallery opening; should be plenty of eye candy there. And since it's supposed to be a classy affair, I think your presence would only make me look better by comparison." She flashes you a coquettish grin before tapping her finger against her lower lip in thought.

"Or," she continues, an idea seeming to occur to her, "we could go to this new restaurant that just opened up near campus. The menu looks amazing, and I'm sure the staff would love the publicity of having us there." She tilts her head to one side as if debating with herself for a

She tilts her head to one side, considering your suggestion before she speaks. "The new restaurant does sound intriguing... I suppose we could try that as well." Her tone implies that she already knows which option she prefers, but she's willing to let you choose in an attempt to appear more egalitarian. She glances down at her phone again, seemingly lost in thought. "We'll see how things go this week; we can always switch plans if something comes up."

With a final smile, Aika looks back up at you and adds casually, "Oh, and be prepared to take some photos for me tonight. I want to make sure I look my best before heading out." She pauses dramatically before asking, "You know how to work that camera, don't you?"

"Oh wonderful," she says with a satisfied smile, already picturing herself in the perfect outfit for the evening. "I can't wait to see how amazing we'll look together!" She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms beneath her chest, feeling more at ease now that she has someone by her side who knows what they're doing.

Well, first of all," she says with a wink, "I'll need you to escort me everywhere I go. You know, add some much-needed masculine energy to my life." She chuckles lightly at her own joke before continuing more seriously, "But really, you can help by just being yourself and not getting too overwhelmed by everything. Sometimes the most authentic moments are the ones that end up looking the best." A knowing smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she takes a sip of coffee.

"And speaking of which," she says, eyeing you meaningfully, "you should probably start practicing those poses for tonight. We want to make sure we're both camera-ready!"

You snort in amusement at my comment, shaking your head playfully. "Well, I'd hardly call myself 'natural beauty,'" you say with a laugh. "But if there's one thing I know, it's how to make someone look good in photos." Your eyes meet mine briefly before returning to your coffee cup.

"Besides," you continue more quietly, "it's not all about me. You have this... presence that draws people in. It makes everything you do seem effortless." There's a hint of sincerity in your voice now, making the compliment feel less like teasing and more like something genuine.

I laugh at your question before reaching into my bag and retrieving a small makeup case. "Of course," I say with a smirk. "You never know when a touch-up will be needed." I open the case, revealing an impressive array of beauty products and tools. "And just between us," I add in a whisper, "this stuff can work wonders on photos too. No need to tell anyone, though; it's our little secret."