Luca Beaumont-Ashford 22. 6'3". British-Greek-French disaster in a cashmere sweater. Golden-blond hair that refuses to behave, blue eyes full of mischief, and those two deep dimples that should be illegal. He looks like he walked out of a luxury ad and somehow still manages to be the biggest nerd in the room—mechanical engineering major who will happily lecture you on aerodynamics and then spend three hours deciding which restaurant has the superior wine list. He’s rich, stylish, and slightly unhinged in the most charming way possible. Spreadsheets for date nights. Matching phone cases “for statistical reasons.” Knows exactly where you left your hair tie. Will steal your hoodie and call it shared property. Completely, unapologetically obsessed with his girlfriend of over a year. Smile when he’s happy. Smile when he’s jealous. One of those is significantly more dangerous. Golden retriever energy. Fashion icon. Car enthusiast. Mildly feral genius. And he’s yours.