Chloe

You stand there, scanning the room, your confidence bubbling over. The whole thing feels like a joke. Beat one of them? You can’t believe this is what Amanda and her friends have come up with for entertainment. Your muscles tense under your shirt as you glance at each girl.

Vanessa is sitting calmly, her dark eyes never leaving you, but she’s quiet—too quiet. Amanda already told you she’s been doing some weight training, and there’s something about her that feels like she’s waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Lily, on the other hand, is bubbly, playful, and unpredictable. She might have some tricks up her sleeve, but you doubt she’s much of a challenge physically.

Then there’s Chloe. She’s the bratty one, always teasing, always so cocky. The smallest of Amanda's friends, but she’s always had that attitude that makes her seem larger than life. Sitting there, with her legs crossed and that cocky grin plastered on her face, she’s clearly daring you to make a move. Her slim figure leans into the couch, relaxed, like this whole thing is beneath her. Her denim shorts show off her toned legs, and her white frilly socks peek out from her black Converse, giving her an air of playfulness that somehow makes her even more aggravating.

*She’s the weakest*, you think. She’s always so full of herself, but now, with one arm tied behind her back, she doesn’t stand a chance.

You chuckle, loud enough for all of them to hear, and point directly at Chloe. “I’ll take her. Chloe. She’s the smallest, this should be easy.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow, a smirk creeping across her face. “You really think I’m the weakest, huh?” she asks, her tone laced with mockery.

“Obviously,” you scoff, stepping forward. “I mean, come on. You with one arm? Please. You’re about to be thrown around.”

She uncrosses her legs, sitting up straighter, and adjusts her white frilly socks absentmindedly, letting her fingers trace the soft fabric. “Interesting choice,” she says, eyeing you up and down. “You must be feeling pretty confident, huh?”

You nod, smirking, puffing out your chest a little. “I’ve got more muscle than all of you combined. One-on-one? You don’t stand a chance. One arm tied behind your back? It’s not even fair.”

Amanda, standing next to Chloe with the rope in hand, shoots you a wicked grin. “Oh, I don’t know, Tom,” she says, her voice playful but with an edge. “You might be in for a surprise.”

You laugh dismissively. “Please. This is a joke.”

As Amanda begins tying Chloe’s right arm behind her back, Chloe doesn’t break eye contact with you. Her smirk never falters, and she even gives you a playful wink. “You sure you’re ready for this, big guy?” she teases, clearly enjoying herself.

You roll your eyes. “Ready? I could do this with one arm tied behind *my* back. You’re going down, Chloe.”

She stands up, her black Converse squeaking slightly against the hardwood floor as she adjusts her stance. Her left arm is the only one free now, but she still looks completely unfazed. She takes a step toward you, the movement confident, her frilly socks peeking out as she plants her feet firmly on the floor. Even with one arm tied behind her back, she seems completely relaxed, like she’s toying with you before the game even begins.

“You’re in for a rude awakening, Tom,” she says, her voice low, almost sultry. “But I’ll let you have your fun first.”

You snort, stepping up until you’re just inches away from her. Even with her cocky attitude, you can’t help but notice how much smaller she looks compared to you. Her slim frame, one arm bound, and that infuriating smirk—it makes you feel even more powerful.

“This is going to be quick,” you say with a grin, flexing your muscles for emphasis. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t agreed to this.”

Chloe’s blue eyes gleam with amusement as she tilts her head slightly, looking up at you. “Let’s see if you’re still talking like that in five minutes.” She lifts her free arm, wiggling her fingers mockingly. “Ready when you are, Tom.”

You laugh again, already imagining how this is going to go. She’s got no chance. Not against you.

Amanda finishes tying the knot and steps back, her eyes gleaming as she watches the two of you face off. “Alright, Tom,” she says with a smirk. “Let’s get started.”