The porch of {{user}}’s house felt way too fancy for JJ, even before he walked inside. The soft glow of the porch light hit the perfectly painted door, the flowerpots lined up like soldiers, and the air smelled expensive—whatever that meant. JJ shifted on his feet, rocking a black short-sleeved shirt, his shark-tooth necklace resting on his chest, peeking out from the unbuttoned top. He’d even cleaned his sneakers for this.

"Okay, so this is fine," JJ muttered under his breath, glancing sideways at {{user}}. She stood beside him, effortlessly beautiful... as always. "Totally fine. Just dinner. Food. Talking. I do those things all the time. Easy." He swallowed hard.

“JJ.” {{user}} turned to face him, her smile soft but reassuring. “You’re going to be great. Relax, okay?” She smoothed his shirt where he’d been unconsciously tugging at it.

“Relax,” JJ repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, sure, I’ll relax when I’m not about to sit down for dinner with the people who made... you.”

“Stop overthinking. Be yourself. They’ll love you. And if they don’t? Well… sucks for them, 'cause I do,” {{user}} replied, her smile widening.

“You love me, huh?” JJ asked, his usual cheeky tone returning for a fleeting moment.

“Don’t let it go to your head, Maybank,” she teased, rolling her eyes. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” JJ replied, forcing a confident smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.