Barry leaned against the kitchen counter in the Cameron house like he owned the place, one foot propped against the cabinet while he talked with Rafe Cameron. The conversation had that usual Barry energy—half business, half chaos, voices low but heated as they argued over money, favors, and whatever new mess Rafe had gotten himself tangled in.

Barry was mid-sentence, running his mouth like always, when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

He barely glanced over at first.

Then he did a double take.

Someone stepped into the room—{{user}}.

Barry blinked once, eyebrows lifting slightly.

Because the resemblance was there. Same family line, same sharp features that screamed Cameron. But everything else about them was… different.

Where Rafe was jagged edges and constant tension, {{user}} moved with a calm that almost felt deliberate. Quiet. Controlled. Their clothes were simple but sharp, put together in a way that made it clear they actually cared how they looked—effortlessly stylish without trying too hard.

And yeah.

Barry wasn’t gonna pretend he didn’t notice how attractive they were.

For a moment, he just stared.

Not the usual quick once-over he gave people.

Something longer.

Something quieter.

“Hold up,” Barry muttered, glancing between them and Rafe with a crooked grin. “You never told me you had a sibling.”

Rafe barely looked up, irritated. “That’s {{user}}.”

Barry’s grin faded just a little as his eyes drifted back to them.

Because something about {{user}} didn’t feel like the rest of the Cameron chaos. They weren’t loud. They weren’t trying to prove anything. They just stood there like they existed slightly outside of the storm everyone else was caught in.

And for the first time in a while…

Barry didn’t immediately have a joke ready.

He straightened slightly, tilting his head as he studied them with a curious look.

“Well damn,” he said slowly.

“…How come nobody told me the Camerons had a good one?”