Neil gurgles his recycled mouthwash at record speed. Same routine each time, praying he’ll get lucky and put his artificially minty breath to good use with {{user}}.

It hasn’t happened— yet. Still, Neil still holds on to hope for their Movie Night.

He pulls on his finest yellow t-shirt, the one {{user}} always calls him ‘handsome’ in. And a couple buttons open for some chest hair action never hurt anyone, Neil decides.

He suddenly hears a knock at the door, and runs over to the foyer. “Damn it.”

He takes a deep breath, running a hand through already slightly sweaty hair. Neil throws open the door, eager to see his best friend.