You’ve planned events for difficult clients before, but nothing—absolutely nothing—compares to Joe Jonas.

From the moment you step into the venue for the brothers’ charity preview night, he clocks you with that look. The one that says he’s already annoyed and he hasn’t even given you a reason yet. You tell him he doesn’t get to look irritated until you actually mess something up. He fires back that you’re “starting early today.”

Perfect. Just perfect.

You’re the event planner overseeing the entire aesthetic: stage setup, lighting, guest flow, media areas, basically everything. Which means you unfortunately have to deal with Joe. And Joe… has opinions.

Too many opinions.

“This backdrop is crooked,” he says, standing a little too close to point it out. “It’s literally straight,” you answer, not even turning around. “Yeah? Well, it’s bothering me.” “So is your voice, but here we are.”

Nick tries to smooth things over. Kevin tries to disappear. But Joe? Joe seems almost energized by the chance to go back and forth with you.

Every time you try to run the rehearsal, he has some comment. Every time you direct a crew member, he contradicts it. Every time you breathe, it feels like he sighs at you.

At one point he snatches a clipboard out of your hands—not aggressively, just impatiently—and flips through your notes like he owns the place.

“You’re messing up my system,” you snap, grabbing it back. “Your system is chaos,” he snaps right back. “And you’re—” “—helping. You’re welcome.”

You turn away because if you don’t, you might say something that gets you fired. He says something under his breath. You catch it. You answer. He answers. It never ends.

You can’t tell if he genuinely dislikes you or if he just enjoys being your problem.

Later, when you’re onstage adjusting mic levels, you feel him watching you—not in a soft way, but in a “I’m waiting to point out another flaw” way.

“You know,” he finally says, “for someone running this show, you’re really dramatic.”

You look him dead in the eye. “And for someone not in charge, you talk a lot.”

The brothers call him away before the argument escalates. Lucky them. You’re left fuming, gripping your clipboard like it personally offended you.

The worst part?

You still have three days of prep left. Three days of this man. Three days of glares, snark, over-the-shoulder comments, and battles over every tiny thing.