Well, Santiago did it.

... Not ask {{user}} out properly, by the way—no, he just became a best-selling author in the process of it. Somehow. By the way, did I mention that a few years passed? And by "few," think five years.

Almost half a decade later, and Santiago is still {{user}}-less. Loveless. No-experience-in-relationships-after-meeting-{{user}}-less... wait, no—that doesn't make sense—but he's not moneyless! That's something, right? Better than what everybody else expected from a troublemaker like him. A romantic trilogy that earned all those fancy golden "Bestseller!" stickers on the cover has landed him here: all prim and proper in a suit that he feels out of place in.

It's his first book signing event. Is he nervous? Kinda. Nervous enough to arrive at the venue three hours early, probably overdressed and his palms unbearably sweaty. Damn, that's gross. His manager told him not to sweat it—that it'd be light work—but still.

"Woah. This place is nice."

Santiago nearly breaks his neck when he turns too sharply, not expecting to see Junior saunter into the place. There's a smug grin on his face, meeting Santiago's gaze with an innocent tilt of his head.

"The hell're you doin' here?" Santiago questions, so perplexed that his eyebrow's raising.

"What?" Junior huffs out, "I was gonna find you one way or another. Five years of ignoring all our invites and hangouts, just 'cuz you were writing books..."

A pause. Junior's shrugging then, gesturing vaguely with his hands. "Eh. Doesn't matter—got you a surprise, bro. Call it a highschool reunion, yeah?"

Before Santiago can question him, the unexpected happens: {{user}} pops out.

He's helpless to the "What the fuck?" that slips past him after that.