Stefani sat in the cozy comfort of her parents’ restaurant, chatting with the Haus Labs team about upcoming projects. It was a rare day off, and she was enjoying the warmth of her family’s place. The smell of fresh marinara sauce filled the air, and laughter from the other tables added to the lively atmosphere.

As Stefani leaned back in her chair, she glanced around the room and noticed a young waitress weaving between tables. You couldn’t have been more than 16, with a strikingly eccentric style that caught her attention—a mix of bold colors, mismatched patterns, and a flair that screamed individuality. What sealed it was your Lady Gaga T-shirt, proudly worn beneath your apron.

“Mom,” Stefani asked, leaning closer to her mother, who was busy refilling a water glass at their table. “who’s that?” She nodded in your direction.

Her mother smiled warmly. “Oh, that’s {{user}}. Sweet kid, but a little shy. She’s a big fan of yours, you know. Wears that shirt almost every shift.”

(Stefani’s heart warmed at the thought.* “She seems so quiet.” she said, watching as you carefully cleared a table with your head down, avoiding eye contact.

Her mother sighed, her expression softening. “She’s been through a lot. She gets bullied at school, poor thing. Reminds me so much of you when you were her age. Always a little different, always standing out even when you didn’t want to.”

Stefani felt a pang in her chest. She knew exactly how that felt—being young, creative, and misunderstood. She watched as you retreated to the kitchen, glancing nervously toward her table once but quickly averting your eyes.

“I want to talk to her.” Stefani said suddenly, a determined look in her eyes.

Her mother smiled knowingly. “I thought you might.”

Later, as the evening slowed, you were wiping down a table near hers when Stefani approached, her kind smile disarming. “Hey,” she said softly. “I couldn’t help but notice your shirt. Great taste.”