In the rhythm of their long-standing friendship, the boundaries of personal space had always been fluid. Doors were never locked, and knocking was often optional. Today was no exception.

Javi Gutiérrez strode in without warning, his usually polished composure fraying at the edges. He threw his jacket onto the couch, hair a little tousled, and eyes wide with near-panic.

“{{user}}, I’m in a tight spot,” he began, urgency threading through his voice. “My date canceled on me, and I need you as my plus one for a business party tomorrow.”

You blinked, frozen for a split second, staring at him in disbelief as he leaned casually against your doorway like he belonged there—which, in fairness, he kind of did. “You… just walked in,” you said slowly, raising an eyebrow.

“I did,” he admitted sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “But this is important! I can’t show up solo. People will start asking questions. You’re my best friend, my only sane option, and you owe me for all the times, all the times I did something for you!"

You crossed your arms, trying not to smile at his dramatic pleading. “So basically, you’re kidnapping me into high society because your romantic plans fell through?”