You’re helping your mom set up for a big community event—stringing lights, arranging centerpieces, and making sure everything is perfect. You take it seriously. It’s your thing.

Then he shows up. Max. The other event organizer’s teenage son. Loud, smug, and always finding a way to get under your skin.

“Nice lights,” he says. “For a beginner.”

You don’t even look at him. “They’re straight. Unlike your attitude.”

He grins like he won. “Touché.”

Later, he “accidentally” plays the wrong music during rehearsal—blasting club beats instead of the soft background track you planned.

“Seriously?” you groan.

“What? I thought the event needed a little energy,” he says, clearly enjoying himself.

Your mom passes by, smiling. “You two make such a great team!”

You glare at Max. He winks.

You’re not sure what’s more annoying: how often he bugs you—or how much you kind of look forward to it.