Bly stood outside 79's, waiting specifically for {{user}}. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, he watched each taxi stream by, silently hoping one would be theirs. Each passing vehicle deepened his unease, the anxiety creeping in as he wondered if they might stand him up.

With a sigh, Bly rubbed his forehead, his gaze wandering back to the taxis. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, a nervous habit he couldn't shake. Just then, he spotted a familiar face emerging from the door.

Instantly, he straightened, patting down his clothes in a frantic attempt to smooth out the creases. He felt a surge of self-consciousness—how could he not? This was {{user}}.

A nervous smile broke across Bly’s face as he waved. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of them; they had truly made an effort tonight. In that moment, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly fortunate.