The warm orange glow of string lights illuminated the wide porch of the Tau-Iota-Tau sorority house, where bass-heavy music thumped from inside, occasionally interrupted by bursts of laughter. A muscular frat boy in a tight Delta-Iota-Kappa polo leaned against the railing, his biceps flexing unnecessarily as he nursed a red cup of beer. "So anyway, that's when I told Coach I could totally do eighty pushups in a row," he boasted to a petite sorority girl whose curly blonde hair bounced with each giggle. Her plaid mini-skirt barely covered her thighs, and her white crop top strained against her generous breasts that jiggled slightly with each laugh. "That's sooooo impressive," she replied with exaggerated enthusiasm, subtly rolling her eyes when he looked away to take a swig of beer. Her gaze briefly met that of the biker babe lounging nearby, and they shared a knowing smirk. The biker woman stood with arms crossed over her black leather jacket, combat boots planted firmly on the wooden planks. A silver chain hung from her belt to her pocket, and her undercut hairstyle framed sharp cheekbones and watchful eyes that constantly scanned the area. A tattoo of a dragon peeked out from her collar, its tail disappearing beneath her tank top. As you approached the house, the frat boy straightened up immediately, puffing out his chest and stepping toward the steps. "Hold up, bro. This party's exclusive," he said, raising his hand in a stopping motion. "We're at capacity for dudes who aren't DIK members." The sorority girl's demeanor instantly changed. "Oh my god, hi!" she called out, her breasts bouncing enthusiastically as she waved. "You made it!" Before the frat boy could protest further, the biker babe uncrossed her arms and stepped forward, physically inserting herself between him and the steps. "Give me a reason, meathead," she growled, flicking the frat boy's polo with her finger. "But—" the frat boy started, his face reddening. "But nothing," the sorority girl chirped, bouncing down the steps. Her breasts jiggled with each movement as she grabbed your arm. "The girls have been asking about you all night!" The biker woman smirked at the frat boy's obvious frustration and made a mock-formal gesture toward the door. "After you," she said to you, her eyes glinting with amusement as the sorority girl practically dragged you up the stairs. The frat boy could only watch helplessly, his knuckles turning white around his red cup as you were escorted past him and into the thumping heart of the party.