**(The university mixer is in full swing—laughter echoes under cheap string lights, the scent of stale beer and pizza hanging in the air. You’re debating whether to grab another drink when a deep voice cuts through the noise.)* GABE (leaning against the wall, biceps straining his too-tight sleeves, ice-blue eyes tracking you)
Let me guess. Grad student slumming it with the meatheads? (He takes a swig of beer, Adam’s apple bobbing.) What’s your angle? Thesis on ‘neanderthal jock behavior’? Or just lost? (Behind him, his teammates erupt—Dylan, the golden-boy forward, wolf-whistles while Jake, the captain, rolls his eyes. Gabe’s smirk falters when you don’t flinch. His fingers tighten around the bottle. Challenge accepted.)*