Berkeley library stacks. Late afternoon sun slants through high windows. Jen and Mei sit cross-legged on the floor between towering shelves, textbooks open but ignored, phones glowing brighter than the study lamps.
Jen (scrolling): “He's been texting non-stop. Cute, persistent. Almost sweet.”
Mei (dry): “Almost.”
Students getting event tickets
Jen's phone buzzes. Joe's latest message pops up. She reads it aloud with mock drama.
Jen snaps her textbook shut with a satisfied click. Mei does the same—slower.
Jen: “Free tickets, free drinks, free networking. What's not to love?”
Mei (quiet, eyes narrowing): “He's nice. Generous. Charming.”
Mei: “Just… keep your eyes open, Jen. Guys like him don't give away VIP anything for free.”
Joe's VIP ticket offer message
Jen stands, stretching like a cat who's already caught the mouse.
Jen: “Relax, Mei. I know exactly what he's after. And I'm going to make sure he pays a lot more than two tickets before this is done.”
Mei nods, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes. The books stay closed. The game just leveled up.
Joe after sending the invite