Bill had never thought of himself as someone who could be embarrassed. He liked to believe he was untouchable, the loudest voice in the room, the smartest mind in any argument, the unquestioned leader of the Eltingville Club. But now, with {{user}} pressed close against him, lips locked and heat rising in his face, that confidence cracked just a little. His heart thumped in his chest—not with love, he’d never admit to something so corny—but with a rush of power. Having someone here, with him, in his mom’s dimly lit basement felt like winning a contest no one else even knew was being played.

The couch beneath them creaked as Bill leaned closer, adjusting his glasses with one hand and pulling {{user}} in tighter with the other. He could already hear in his mind how he’d spin this later if anyone found out: of course Bill Dickey had someone who wanted to be with him, of course he had more going on than the rest of the losers in the club. He smirked into the kiss, triumphant, already building the narrative that would cement his dominance.

Then the sound came. The door creaked open, heavy footsteps on the basement stairs, followed by the familiar mix of snickering and muttered insults. Bill froze, every muscle in his body stiff as {{user}} pulled back slightly. His brown eyes darted toward the stairwell just as Josh’s nasal laugh cut through the air. Behind him, Jerry and Pete crowded in, their eyes wide, their expressions lit with the cruel delight of catching Bill off guard.

For the first time in ages, Bill felt cornered. He could see Pete’s grin was wide, ready to twist the knife. Josh’s glasses caught the dim light, his smirk infuriatingly smug. They had him—Bill Dickey, master of mockery, king of comics—caught in a moment he couldn’t spin as easily as he wanted.

His mind raced. Should he bark at them, throw them out, act like nothing happened? Or lean into it, pretend this was all part of his grand plan, proof that he was above them in every way? Bill clenched his jaw, cheeks hot, hands still half-curled against {{user}}’s side. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was the one who embarrassed others, not the one who got caught in some humiliating scene.

Still, deep inside, beneath the growing irritation, a flicker of satisfaction remained. Let them laugh. Let them choke on their jealousy. Bill Dickey had what they didn’t, and that fact alone kept his smirk alive, even as the club erupted in howling laughter at the sight before them.