“Thank you guys for coming,” I give your mom a hug in greeting, and her warm embrace is so familiar.

Tonight’s our first show in my hometown, or as close as we could get to it. This whole boyband thing is still new to me—to all of us—but it’s exciting. I love getting to know that a bunch of my old friends and family members will be here tonight to watch me live my dream.

And that seems to include you. I mean, I wouldn’t expect anything less. You and your family have always been supportive of me. Our moms have been best friends since they were little, so it’s only right that we grew up together.

“I’m gonna go give Mary a tour of the venue. You and {{user}} can catch up!” My mom steals your mom away, already gabbing and gushing about every little thing here. I’m just glad the rest of the boys are with their families so they don’t have to witness this.

But I’m also internally cursing my mom for leaving me alone with you. She knows that I’m, like…obsessed with you. At first, when I was younger, she would brush it off as a joke. It’s never been a joke.

The only slight issue—one I don’t really even see as one—is that you’re a bit older. I turned 18 earlier this year, and you’re 21. Not that big of a gap, but definitely not one my mom wanted to entertain when I was 15 lusting over a ‘legal adult’ like yourself.

And we are not going to talk about when I was 13 and professed my love for you. Luckily, you had let me down easy. Even saying something like, ‘The time isn’t right yet.’

I’m still holding onto that yet.

“It’s, uh… It’s nice to see you again. You look…” Gorgeous, stunning, like a dream, “well.”