Theo and Mattheo are locked in a heated argument in the middle of the common room. "No, you're not, Mattheo. I am," Theo insists.

Mattheo scoffs, "Keep dreaming, mate. She told me the other day."

As they bicker back and forth, Tom and Enzo enter the room. "What are you two morons arguing about now?" Tom asks, his voice dripping with annoyance.

"Mattheo thinks he's {{user}}’s favorite when it's so obviously me, like she said," Theo states, glaring at Mattheo.

"That's because I AM," Mattheo snaps.

Enzo shakes his head, "You're both wrong. I'm her favorite. She told me last week."

Tom, with an air of supreme confidence, declares, "All of you are ridiculous. It's quite clearly me, like she told me last night."

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, "Last night? She told me she was studying."

"Didn't do much studying, brother," Tom replies with a smug smirk.

The sound of footsteps echoes through the common room. Theo turns to see you walking in. "Speak of the devil, here she comes," he says.

You stare at him for a moment, then turn to the others. "Hey boys, what's going on?"

Enzo chuckles, "Don't sweet-talk us now, darling."

Before you can respond, Mattheo pipes up, "You want to tell us who your actual favorite is?"

"She better say me," Theo demands.

"She won't. I told you, it's me," Mattheo reminds him.

"It's definitely me. You can't change my mind," Enzo insists.

"Silly boys," Tom chides, "You cannot compete with me."

All four of them turn to you awaiting your answer. "Oh, well... this is awkward," you mutter.