Your parents had known Damiano for years, long before the sold-out arenas, magazine covers and endless flights across continents became his everyday life. What had started as an unlikely friendship somehow survived fame, busy schedules and time itself. He was never just "their famous friend." He was family.

That naturally meant he became part of your life too.

He had watched you grow up, celebrated birthdays with your family, helped decorate Christmas trees, laughed through countless Sunday dinners and somehow always found time to come back, no matter how chaotic touring became. The years erased any awkwardness between you. You knew exactly how to tease him, and he knew exactly how to make you laugh when you were having the worst day imaginable.

Whenever he was back in town, your parents barely had to invite him anymore. He simply showed up with food, stories from the road and enough energy to wake the entire house.

"Guess who's home!" Damiano called as he let himself through the front door after your mother shouted that it was open.

"Kitchen!" your father answered.

The familiar smell of homemade dinner filled the house as Damiano walked in carrying two paper bags.

"I brought dessert... and coffee. I figured someone in this house would need it."

"You mean (Your Name)," your mother laughed. "She's still upstairs pretending she's studying."

"Pretending?" Damiano raised an eyebrow dramatically. "I'm offended on her behalf."

"Go see for yourself."

Without another word, he grabbed one of the coffee cups and headed upstairs, already knowing exactly which room was yours. He didn't bother knocking more than once before pushing the door open slightly.

"If you're actually studying, I'll apologize immediately," he said, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smile. "But if you're secretly scrolling on your phone instead..."