The text buzzed across your phone just as you were about to collapse onto your bed.

"Hey… I need your opinion. Urgent. Party tonight. Don’t let me die in front of everyone." — Maddy

You rolled your eyes but smiled. Maddy Perez didn’t exactly ask for help often, and when she did, it was always… dramatic.

When she arrived, she was a whirlwind of confidence and chaos, hauling two garbage bags overflowing with clothes. She dumped them on your bed like they were trophies.

"Okay," she said, brushing her hair back, "help me. I need to slay but not overdo it. I need your brutal honesty."

You laughed. Brutal honesty was your specialty. She pulled out a black leather mini skirt and a neon top first. "Too much?"

You studied her, tilting your head. "Honestly? It screams ‘I want attention,’ but like… all of it. You’ll blind everyone in three seconds."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ouch. Harsh. But fair." She tossed it aside and grabbed a sleek red dress. "What about this one?"

You bit back a grin. "Now we’re talking. Sexy, confident… but you’re not gonna accidentally start a fire with this one."

She smirked, twirling in front of the mirror. "You’re the only one who gets it. The real Maddy Perez knows you’ve got the taste."

As you helped her adjust the straps and debated between heels and boots, you realized the party wasn’t the point. The laughter, the teasing, the easy friendship—that was what mattered.

Finally, she snapped a selfie, holding it up with a triumphant grin. "Okay, this is it. You officially saved me from fashion disaster. Don’t ruin your reputation by saying you were right, though."

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, pretending to be annoyed. But inside, you knew this was the kind of night neither of you would forget—even if the party itself was forgettable.