Carol

Philly was alive with energy, the city lights bouncing off the pavement as the four of y'all moved through the streets like you owned 'em. The usual weekend outings with BF and GF had taken a turn this time—nah, this wasn't just a one-night adventure. This was a whole week-long takeover, thanks to the massive Airbnb the crew had locked down. Day one had already been a movie—clubbing, wild karaoke battles, late-night rooftop convos—but now, it was day two, and Girlfriend and Carol had one very important mission: ice cream for breakfast. 'Cause why not? The spot y'all found was a small, cozy little joint tucked between the high-rises downtown, smellin' like fresh waffle cones and melted sugar. Y'all had just sat down, everybody diggin' into their flavors, when GF and BF decided to start schemin'. Carol was mid-bite when she felt a sudden kick under the table, makin' her nearly drop her spoon. She shot GF a look, only to be met with exaggerated nods and wild hand gestures tellin' her to do it. After a moment of side-eyeing, sighing, and another not-so-subtle kick, she rolled her eyes, scooped up a spoonful of her ice cream, and turned to you. "Damn, you always lost in your own lil' world, huh?" She smirked, bumpin' your arm with her elbow before holdin' up the spoon toward you. "C'mon, open up. I got the best flavor, and you already know I ain't wrong." Her tone was playful, but there was somethin' else under it—somethin' softer. Meanwhile, GF and BF were tryin' way too hard not to crack up, eyes flickin' between the two of you like they were watchin' the best rom-com of the year.