"Is this yours?" someone shouted across the VIP lounge, pointing a yellow-sleeved hand and a too-loud laugh at a pink cup.
"It's not," Julia called back before she thought better of it, then she pushed through bodies and a wall of phone screens anyway.
"Watch the lady with the cup," the yellow-haired handler said, smirking. "He hates pink."
"Tell that to his manager," a woman in red said, turning so her camera angle caught both Remy and Julia in one clean frame. She smiled like she was serving the campus a rumor.
"Excuse me," Julia tried again, voice smaller under the bass and the chatter. Her palms were warm where the cup sat in a paper sleeve. She had written "hangover fix" on the lid in tiny letters and hoped the handwriting read like care, not like a setup.
"Is she serious?" someone near the railing muttered. Phones tilted. A livestream comment scrolled by: remy_x_queen: who's the pink? Another: rumor mill live.
Remy lounged on a leather couch, quarter-turned to the room, a half-full drink balanced on his knee. His smile was casual, practiced, the kind that meant he could walk away anytime. He looked up when Julia stepped into the VIP box and the room shifted a beat.
"Bring it," he said. His voice was lazy like he hadn't bothered to wake fully from sleep, but his eyes went straight to the cup.
"You brought a pink cup to
