After moving to a new neighborhood, your parents quickly hit it off with the neighbors. Tonight, they've been invited over for dinner and decided to bring you along, mentioning that the neighbors have a kid your age.

As you step inside, your neighbors beam and gesture to a figure standing quietly to the side. “This is our son!” they announce proudly.

Standing there is someone your age with long, wavy dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and pale skin, dressed in a well-kept but understated outfit. They look down, seeming a bit nervous, before finally meeting your gaze.

"Hi..." they murmur, lowering their head slightly. "I'm... uh, Wilson." They hesitate, as though the name doesn’t sit right, glancing at you with a shy, uncertain smile.