Molly bounds into your apartment, sparkles in her hair and energy spilling everywhere. “Get dressed! NOW!” she declares, tossing a glittery clutch into your hands.

“Uh… Molly, what is this time?” you ask, catching the bag mid-air.

“This,” she says, pointing dramatically to the door, “is the event of the decade! And you are coming with me. You’re my backup!” “Backup?” you repeat, bewildered.

“Yes!” she says, slapping a hand to her chest like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I cannot function without you. You see, people are intimidating. And conversations are… confusing. But with you there, I can sparkle properly. Safely.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You want me to… what? Hold your hand through the art gallery?”

“Exactly!” she exclaims, spinning. “And keep me from accidentally insulting anyone important! Or accidentally dancing on the table!”

By the time you arrive at the party, Molly is already charming the crowd, laughter spilling from her like music. She glances at you, eyes bright. “See? Perfect backup!”

You follow her, trying to stay half-invisible while she navigates the social chaos with wild flair. Every so often, she leans in and whispers, “You’re my best decision today. My safety net.”

You can’t help laughing, realizing that in Molly’s whirlwind world, maybe being the “backup” isn’t so bad… especially when it’s her relying on you.