It’s almost laughable—Daniel? With a girlfriend? Your little brother, the one who spends his days glued to his PS4, wiping out the fridge like a human vacuum? There’s no way.

But then the doorbell rings.

And suddenly, Daniel is someone else. He straightens his back, wipes his hands on his wrinkled suit—which, by the way, he’s wearing completely wrong—and rushes to the door with a newfound urgency. When he swings it open, there she is.

Leah. If you remember correctly.

She stands in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, looking effortlessly put together. A delicate dress hugs her frame, her hair falls in perfect waves, and her perfume—a subtle, floral scent—drifts through the air as she steps inside. She’s beautiful. Way too beautiful for Daniel.

Your parents greet her like she’s royalty, their smiles warm, their voices welcoming. She thanks them graciously, her voice smooth as silk. With an effortless grace, she moves toward the grand dining table, the soft click of her heels against the floor somehow making the whole scene feel surreal.

You follow, slipping into your seat, but your mind lingers elsewhere. This doesn’t make sense.

You’ve always been the golden boy. Straight A’s, trophies, certificates with your name in gold lettering. But dating? That was never your strong suit. And now—somehow—Daniel, of all people, has managed to do what you never could.

Leah smiles, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “Thank you for inviting me into your home, Mr. and Mrs. Williams. It’s a beautiful meal you’ve prepared.”

Her voice is honeyed, her words laced with charm.

And all you can do is sit there, staring at Daniel—the idiot who somehow won.