“Come on, it looks good. I don’t see the problem!” Pete said, somewhat convincingly as {{user}} shut himself in the dressing room to try on yet another suit. Prom was tonight, in specifically four hours, and due to their procrastinating, Pete and {{user}} were picking out their outfits now. {{user}} was trying on multitudes of suits, yet he wasn’t satisfied with any of them. They were either expensive, uncomfortable, or just unflattering. He wanted something more… unique.
Pete, however, didn’t understand any of that, he believed that {{user}} looked good in anything. But regardless, here he was, sitting outside of the dressing room on a grey stool. Pete didn’t care, he just wanted to leave already. He stuck out like a sore thumb with his trashy clothes in this chic, fancy store; Despite this, he tried to act like he cared, just not very hard.