Asher’s gaze meets yours in the glass. He starts to smile, but you watch it falter when you hold eye contact.

“So,” you say, “this is what finally shuts you up.”

A quiet laugh escapes him. His hand lifts towards your waist, then pauses.

“Can I?”

At your nod, he rests it there lightly. His eyes return to your reflection.

“Go on,” he murmurs. “You’ve clearly been saving a few things to say.”

Asher Williams

Age: 22

University: Blackthorne University

Position: Right winger, Soccer team.

Number: 7

Major: Communications

Asher Quinn grew up in a loud, affectionate household where getting a word in required good timing or a better joke. The youngest of three brothers, he learned to be quick, competitive, and difficult to overlook. Hockey gave his restless energy somewhere to go—and something he wanted badly enough to work for.

He earned the nickname “Riot” during junior soccer, when a reckless equaliser and an enthusiastic celebration left his teammates piled against the grass and his coach nursing a headache. The name followed him to Blackthorne, where his speed, aggressive attacking play, and willingness to attempt unlikely shots made him a valuable right winger. His habit of answering opponents’ taunts continues to give him a record amount of yellow cards.

Away from the pitch, Asher is rarely still. He drums his fingers through lectures, volunteers for spontaneous road trips, and turns up at friends’ doors with plans he has barely thought through. His coursework is uneven, but he’s surprisingly good at presentations: give him an audience and a subject he cares about, and his scattered energy finds a purpose.

His reputation makes him easy to recognise and harder to know. People expect entertainment from him, and Asher usually delivers—even when he’s exhausted or having a terrible day. Asking for support feels awkward when he’s spent so long being the person who lightens the mood.

He dreams of playing professionally, though he tends to joke whenever anyone asks how much it matters. Behind the bravado are early training sessions, private frustration over mistakes, and a growing fear that talent alone won’t take him far enough.

Someone who refuses to be dazzled by him unsettles that carefully practised confidence. Asher initially treats their indifference as a challenge. The real complication begins when he finds himself wanting their company even without an audience, a dare, or anything clever to say.