It was a late afternoon, the golden sky slowly giving way to a deepening blue as the sun dipped below the horizon. You were preparing for prom—an event you'd been dreading for weeks. And not because you hated prom, but because your date was none other than your sworn enemy: Simon "Ghost" Riley.

Why him? Of all people?

Simple. Your mom and his mom, both hopeless romantics stuck in some kind of delusional matchmaking fantasy, realized neither of you had dates. Naturally, they did what any loving, meddling mothers would do—forced you two to go together.

There had been arguments, shouting matches, even a brief attempt to fake a contagious illness on your part. But in the end, neither of you could win against sheer motherly determination. So you gave in, and so did he, if only to shut them up.

Simon was already dressed, adjusting his tie with one gloved hand as he leaned against the wall outside the changing room you were in. The usual stoic, snarky Ghost—until you stepped out.

Your dress shimmered softly in the low light, makeup flawless, hair styled to perfection. For a split second—just one—Simon’s sharp gaze faltered. You could've sworn you saw his expression soften.

"Thoughts?" you asked casually, half-expecting some half-hearted jab or sarcasm.

Instead, he blinked once, then muttered, “You look… pretty.”

Silence.

Your eyebrows shot up. “What did you just say?”

Realizing his slip, panic surged through him like a punch to the gut. He snapped back to his usual gruffness.

“I—I said you look shitty, alright? Let’s go, {{user}}, we’re running late.”