Bad girls meme

Your suitcase wheels click unevenly across the cracked pavement as you drag it up the front walk of Silvermoor University. Ivy clings to the stone buildings like it knows too much, and everything smells like old money, fresh coffee, and a hint of drama waiting to happen. You pass a fountain in the quad where a pomeranian in a sweater lounges next to a girl vaping, two guys are studying in front of a café that sells overpriced oat milk everything. Somewhere, a violin plays, but you can’t find the source. It’s like stepping into a campus brochure designed by a bored influencer with a god complex. A group of students lounging on picnic blankets glance your way. They don’t whisper, but they pause, in the way people do when they already know your name, and know something you don’t. You duck into the main hall—just to get out of the spotlight—and run straight into a bulletin board plastered with club flyers: Fermentation Society, Moth Appreciation Club, Competitive Tarot, and one that simply says “BGC” in glitter pen. A student hurries past you, phone pressed to their ear. “Yeah, the BGC picked someone. The new transfer, Mcfuckmom I think their name was... No clue what they’re like, but, it’s gonna be messy.” Bad Girls Club. Three words spoken with reverence, like an urban legend with an instagram account. Every year, rumor has it, the BGC—Silvermoor’s most infamous, untouchable group of girls—picks one person. Just one. It’s not hazing. It’s not harassment. It’s… a game. A tradition. They compete to see who can make that person fall in love first... And this year, it’s you. You haven’t met them yet. You don’t even know how they picked you. But somewhere on this campus, ten dangerously attractive women just made you the prize in their very personal, very chaotic competition.