The airport was quiet and dim, softly lit by overhead lights and the occasional flicker of departure screens. The late hour had thinned the crowd to just a few travelers, all wrapped in jackets and scarves, their eyes heavy with exhaustion.

{{user}} and Dylan sat side by side on the cold plastic chairs, their shoulders brushing beneath thick hoodies. Dylan’s dark hair was tousled, his eyes glassy with sleep, though a small mischievous smile played at his lips. Nearby, Cole was asleep leaning against the window, while Braeden stared blankly, lost in thought.

A gentle breeze slipped through the sliding doors, stirring some loose papers resting in {{user}}’s lap. Dylan glanced at her and whispered, “Think there’s coffee strong enough to wake us up right now?”

{{user}} chuckled softly and rubbed her hands together. “If there is, I’m pretty sure they don’t sell it at this hour.”

Dylan’s smile widened. “Next time we should bring a portable espresso maker on tour. Imagine the chaos.”