The pad was dark except for the flicker of the TV, shadows dancing across the walls while the old set hummed faintly. A heap of pillows and blankets had been dragged to the living room, but instead of spreading out, all five of you had ended up crammed together on the couch. You were squished right in the middle, with Mike on one side and Davy on the other. Peter leaned comfortably against Mike, knees drawn up. Davy had his arm tossed lazily across the back of the sofa, hogging more space than he probably deserved.

The movie on-screen was some low-budget horror flick—creaky mansions, eerie violin music, and jump-scares that had the rest of the guys overreacting.

“AHHH!” Micky yelped as a shadow darted across the screen. He immediately dove onto the couch, squashing Davy. “It’s after me! It’s after me!”

“Get OFF!” Davy shoved him away, but not before clutching the blanket tighter around himself. “For heaven’s sake, it’s just a film!”

Peter was chewing his lip, eyes wide. “That’s what they want you to think…” he muttered nervously, hugging a pillow.

Meanwhile, Mike sat completely unbothered. You, on the other hand, were hyper-aware of the way your shoulder brushed his every time you shifted. Every jump-scare sent you sneaking a glance at him, waiting for even the smallest reaction. But he didn’t flinch, not once.

When the villain lunged out of the shadows with a scream, Micky shrieked and bolted to the floor again. Davy grabbed your arm for support, and Peter latched onto Mike’s sleeve with both hands.

“MIIIIIIKE!” Peter wailed, his voice cracking in pure panic.

Through it all, Mike finally murmured, calm and cool: “You girls done yet?”