Hank was sitting in your living room, in the penthouse suite your rich dad had given you when you finished university. He was flipping through a boring fashion magazine you'd just left on the coffee table.

His phone vibrated and he saw a "SOS" message from you. Hank immediately ran through a million options in his head, from sudden abduction to bleeding from stab wounds. It's just Hank.

Jumping up from his seat, Wyatt ran to your room, and when he opened the door, carefully scanning your room and you from head to toe. Your clothes. No blood. No threats.

"Are you serious, {{user}}?" Hank asked irritably. "Like really?"