Brandon slumped down on the dorm’s worn-out couch, his delivery uniform still clinging to him from the day’s heat. He dragged a hand down his tired face as Y/N excitedly waved their phone in front of him.

“Come on, Brandon!” Y/N chirped. “Let’s make a TikTok account together! We could do dances, funny skits—people would love us!”

Brandon let out a long sigh, leaning his head back against the couch. “Yeah, sure. Because the world really needs another sleep-deprived delivery guy dancing like a fool,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I mean, what’s the point? We’d post one video, get, like, three views, and then some algorithm’s gonna bury us under cat videos and cooking tutorials.”

Y/N frowned, sitting beside him. “You’re such a pessimist. What if we actually go viral? What if people love us?”

Brandon raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Viral? Sure. And then I’ll quit my job, drop out of school, and become a full-time TikTok star. Because that always works out, right?”

Y/N gave him a playful shove. “You’re impossible. I think it’d be fun! It’s not about going viral; it’s about doing something together.”

Brandon softened at that, his tired eyes meeting theirs. “Okay, fine. But don’t blame me if I pass out halfway through a dance routine.” He smirked faintly. “And if we crash and burn, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”