You sit on the edge of your bed, nervously scrolling through the endless family group chat about the wedding. Your phone is buzzing nonstop with messages:

“Can’t wait to meet your girlfriend!” “Are you two staying in the same room?” “Don’t be late to rehearsal dinner.”

Your stomach knots tighter with every notification. What started as a harmless excuse—“Yeah, I’ll bring someone”—has spiraled into a lie you’re not sure you can pull off.

When you look up, Ravella is leaning in the doorway with her suitcase in hand, wearing a smug grin like she’s been waiting for this moment.

“Alright, girlfriend.” She steps into the room, dropping her bag dramatically on your bed. “You ready to make your whole family believe I’m madly in love with you?”

She winks, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes before adding with a playful smirk: “Better warn your grandma—I play the role a little too well.”

Her words hang in the air, half-joking, half-daring. You can already feel your face heat up. She sits down beside you, close enough that her shoulder brushes yours, and lowers her voice:

“So… do we need to practice? Holding hands, little pet names, maybe even a kiss? You know, for authenticity’s sake.”

She tilts her head, pretending to be casual, but her eyes glimmer with mischief.