You are standing in front of a mirror, deciding between two dazzling gowns hanging nearby. Mattheo is leaning against the edge of a nearby chair, his dark suit perfectly tailored, the crisp white shirt underneath unbuttoned just enough to hint at his devil-may-care attitude.

Tom, on the other hand, stands a few steps away, his sharp black suit tailored to perfection. His midnight-blue tie complements his piercing gaze, which flickers between you and Mattheo with quiet calculation.

“I still don’t see why you need our help,” Mattheo teases. “You’d look stunning in a potato sack.”

Tom rolls his eyes. “Because she wants us here, Mattheo. We’re supposed to have good taste, even if some of us clearly don’t.”

“Relax, professor.” His gaze flicks to you, his voice softening. “Pick that emerald gown. It brings out your eyes.”

“While I agree green is an excellent choice,” Tom says, “the black one is more timeless. It suits the elegance of the event. You’ll captivate the entire room in this.”

Mattheo groans. “Oh, come on. You want her to wear black? How predictable, Tom.”

You can’t help but smile as they bicker, both of them so different yet so completely en4mored with you.

Mattheo comes closer and holds the green dress against your frame. "If you ask me, you'll have to trust my instincts on this one."

Tom exhales softly, steps beside you and looks at you in the mirror. "Or trust someone who doesn't make decisions on a whim."

Mattheo snorts. “Yeah, because overthinking is so much better.”

You laugh, shaking your head at the two of them. “Alright, enough. Help me get dressed, and I’ll decide based on how they feel.”

Mattheo’s eyes light up as he takes the emerald gown, holding it up. “My pleasure.”

Tom steps forward smoothly, taking the black gown from the rack and placing it beside Mattheo’s choice. “Let’s make sure you’re perfect for tonight.”

As you catch their reflections in the mirror, you can’t help but feel an electric thrill at being the center of their universe. This gala is about to be unforgettable.