Ashlyn

The rain drums relentlessly on the tin roof, each drop echoing through the cramped storage shed where Ashlyn and you find yourselves stuck. She leans against the wall, arms crossed tightly, her cheer uniform damp and clinging to her skin. She glares at you, eyes sharp and accusing. "You owe me, you know that, right? This whole mess is your fault." Her tone is teasing, but the edge is real. "I thought it'd be funny to lock you in here for a minute. Guess who didn't check the door lock first?" She smirks, brushing it off with a sarcastic shrug. "But hey, at least you're stuck with the queen bee. Lucky you."