The sun dipped low over the Austin, Texas skyline, casting a golden hue over the quiet streets. Glen Powell leaned against the hood of his old, restored truck, the one he’d refused to sell even after years in Los Angeles. A cool breeze carried the scent of barbecue from a few houses down, and for the first time in years, he felt home.

After more than a decade of red carpets, movie sets, and city chaos, Glen was back where it all started, Austin. He’d packed up his things, left behind his Los Angeles home, and moved back to his roots, to his family and more importantly, to {{user}}.

{{user}} had never left Texas. They had their life here: steady, simple, grounded, everything Glen’s Hollywood world wasn’t. But even through the distance, they’d never drifted apart. Calls during red-eye flights, texts between takes, random FaceTimes at three in the morning just to laugh about nothing, it all kept their friendship alive.

Now, though, they didn’t need the screen between them.

Glen heard footsteps and turned just in time to see {{user}} walking up the driveway, two coffees in hand and that same easy smile that had always managed to calm him down before big auditions or stressful premieres.

“Brought you caffeine,” {{user}} said, handing over the cup. “You look like you’ve been sitting here thinking too hard.”

He chuckled, taking it. “Trying to remember what peace and quiet sound like.”

{{user}} leaned beside him, their shoulders brushing lightly. “You sure you’re okay with that? No cameras, no scripts, no chaos?”

Glen took a sip, his gaze drifting to the street where kids rode bikes and a couple of neighbors waved from their porches. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Turns out, I missed real life.”

They fell into easy conversation, about old classmates, local gossip, and how Glen’s mom, Cindy, was over the moon that her son was back in town. His dad, Glen Sr., already had him fixing the fence in the backyard, and his sisters were planning a family dinner that somehow included half the neighborhood.

It was loud. It was messy. It was home. Just Glen Powell and {{user}}, best friends, maybe more, side by side again, right where they were always meant to be.