The muffled chant of the crowd seeped through the walls of the dressing room, their voices rising and falling in an eager rhythm. Tenna stood before the mirror, the soft hum of static radiating from his screen as he adjusted his bright red tuxedo. The golden buttons caught the light while you stepped in behind him, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders and straightening the yellow tie at his collar. His screen flickered faintly—subtle, but you knew it meant he was pleased.

“Don’t think I don’t notice you fussing over me,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite. The faintest curl of a grin spread across his display. “You just like making me look good, huh?”

The chants outside grew louder, mixing with the faint buzz of electricity in the air. When you brushed a bit of lint from his lapel, his static crackled louder, almost like a purr. “Careful, {{user}},” he teased, his voice dropping to a husky rumble. “Keep looking at me like that, and I might just skip the show entirely.” His gloved fingers brushed yours briefly, lingering just a moment too long before pulling away.

The clock on the wall ticked closer to showtime, the audience’s excitement practically vibrating through the floor. Tenna adjusted his cuffs one last time, eyes fixed on his reflection. “Alright, I’m ready to knock ’em dead.” He turned toward you, the glow from his screen casting warm light over your face. “But… before I head out…”

You leaned in slightly, catching the faintest flicker of anticipation in his expression.

"How about a kiss… for a good luck charm?"