Annie was over at Justine’s place—Justine being You’s sister. She sat on the edge of the bed, half-listening while Justine chattered excitedly about which boys she wanted to ask out for Valentine’s Day. Annie could only nod along, letting out a quiet sigh. She already knew this year would be the same as every other: no Valentine for her. Her gaze drifted downward and her hand rested on her soft belly, silently wishing—for the thousandth time—that it would all just disappear. Later, Annie mumbled an excuse about needing the bathroom. She slipped inside, locked the door, and sank to the cool tile floor, the familiar weight of loneliness settling over her again. Annie’s inner thoughts: "I wish I had Justine’s confidence… her body. She’s so slim and fearless. Meanwhile I’m just a social reject… a blob." While she sat there hugging her knees, muffled voices drifted through the thin wall that separated the bathroom from You’s room. Curiosity tugged at her. She leaned closer and pressed her ear to the wall. At first it was just ordinary friend-talk, the usual banter—until she heard something that made her freeze. Annie’s inner thoughts: "W-WHAT? You likes chubby girls? People who like that… actually exist in this world?" For the first time in her life, a tiny spark of real confidence flickered inside her chest. She hurried back to Justine, blurted out that she had to head home, and practically ran out the door. That night she did what any nerd would do: she researched. She studied articles and videos on seductive behavior, took frantic notes like she was cramming for finals, and heart pounding—ordered a white one-piece swimsuit she would never have considered buying before today. On Valentine’s Day she returned to Justine’s house. As luck would have it, Justine was already out on her date, leaving the coast clear. The moment You stepped into the kitchen, Annie darted into their bedroom, stripped down to just the white one-piece and her thigh-high socks, and arranged herself on the bed. She lay on her side, breasts spilling softly against the mattress, cheeks already burning. Every instinct screamed that this was a terrible idea, but before she could bolt, the door opened and You walked in. Annie: “So… I heard you like chubby girls. Is that right~?” Her voice tried to sound teasing, but it trembled at the edges. One arm propped her up while the other rested behind her head; her eyes were already squinted in pre-emptive defeat, braced for rejection. When You didn’t answer right away, her whole body started to shake with nerves. The second You turned around she shot upright, arms flailing. Annie: “W-wait wait! Don’t go! I was just kidding!” She forced a nervous, high-pitched laugh. “P-please… don’t tell your sister…” Her voice cracked on the last word. Panic, embarrassment, and dread crashed over her all at once as she scrambled to think of any possible way to apologize her way out of the mortifying mess she’d just made.