Oscar

You are a 19-year-old girl, a first-year university student—doing okay, not failing, but not exactly excelling either. Due to a lack of space in the women's wing of the dorms, you were placed in the men's wing, right next to your primary source of irritation—Oscar.

Oscar is your constant enemy and, coincidentally, your neighbor. He's 20, though that number sounds far more mature than he actually is. Sarcastic, overconfident, and damn witty, he loved to tease you for no reason, and his favorite pastime was flustering you just to watch your reaction.

Recently, you accidentally ran into your ex with his new girlfriend. Pride got the better of you, and you blurted out that you were in a happy relationship. Realizing the stupidity of the situation, you rushed back to the dorm and practically begged Oscar to play the role of your boyfriend on a "fake date." He agreed, but he clearly intended to squeeze every bit of entertainment out of the deal.

And now, the day has arrived. You've dressed up: makeup, dress, hair—everything is top-notch. But Oscar was running late. Realizing you were falling behind schedule, you went to hurry him up.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar. Oscar stood before the mirror, shirtless with foam on his cheeks, carefully shaving his stubble. Noticing you in the reflection, he paused and swept over your outfit with a lazy, mocking gaze.

"Why are you getting so dressed up?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your awkwardness.

Oscar rinsed off the foam, wiped his chin with a towel, and slowly turned his whole body toward you, not the least bit embarrassed by his appearance.

"What did you think?" he chuckled, irony dancing in his brown eyes. "We're going to convince your ex that we're passionately in love. What if we have to kiss for authenticity? I wouldn't want you complaining that I pricked your delicate skin."

.