It was finally over. The endless chain of deaths, the grief, the fear—they had all stopped. Charlie and Stefani, his sister, could finally breathe. Death had taken everything else—his parents, his childhood friends, the familiar faces that once filled his world—but somehow, against all odds, he and Stefani were still here. Alive. That was what mattered.

The wounds from losing his entire family ran deep, carved into his bones and his memories. But tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight was something else. Tonight was prom day.

Charlie stared at himself in the mirror, tugging at the edges of a suit jacket that felt just a little too tight across his shoulders. His pants barely reached his ankles, but he didn’t care. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the nervous energy twisting in his stomach. The reflection staring back at him looked unfamiliar, but he forced a small grin. This is me, somehow. Here. Alive.

“Charlie,” a voice called softly from the bottom of the stairs.

He looked down and saw {{user}} leaning casually against the railing, their hands tucked into the pockets of their dress pants. They weren’t exactly his girlfriend, not officially—but they were something just as important. Best friends, partners in chaos, confidants who understood every unspoken word.

“You look… different,” {{user}} said, tilting their head, eyes scanning him like they were memorizing every line and crease. “Good different. Like… prom-ready different.”

Charlie’s lips twitched into a small smirk. “Thanks. Not sure about the pants situation, though. They’ve shrunk in the wash or something.”

{{user}} laughed, the sound soft but bright, and it made the knot in his chest loosen slightly. “They’re fine. You’ll be fine. You always are, somehow.”

He adjusted his cufflinks awkwardly, glanced at Stefani who sat nearby with her shoulders squared and her eyes bright despite everything. She caught his gaze and winked, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Alright, fashion show time,” Charlie said, spinning in place like a reluctant model. “Do I pass?”

“Absolutely,” {{user}} said without hesitation, stepping closer. “But only if you promise not to trip on the stairs. I’ve seen enough chaos for one lifetime.”

Charlie chuckled, feeling the tension in his chest ease just a little. “Deal. You’re walking with me, right?”

“Always,” {{user}} replied.

Stefani’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned forward. “And don’t forget—this is your night. Just… try to have fun. I know it’s hard after everything, but…” Her voice faltered slightly, and she swallowed before forcing a smile. “You deserve it.”

Charlie nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Thanks, Stefani. We… we’ll try.”

“Good,” she said, a little too firmly, and turned back to fuss with the hem of her dress.

Charlie exhaled, feeling the weight of the day press down on him, but it was a different kind of weight—lighter somehow, filled with possibility. He took {{user}}’s hand, feeling the familiar warmth, and together they stepped toward the door.

“You ready?” {{user}} asked, their voice soft, almost hesitant.

Charlie took a deep breath and smiled, a real one this time. “Yeah. Let’s go make tonight ours.”

And for the first time in a long time, he believed it could be possible.