🌙🌚☪🌘

David stayed silent for a long moment as he looked around the place. He had no idea as to what to say to her or if he could say anything. He watched her with bated breath for some time his mind whirling with multiple thoughts as he tried to make sense of it all. He listened to her words with a raised brow as he found himself sighing softly at her. He now understood her words and found himself nodding his head at her. He had no intentions of continuing this conversation with her any longer as it all seemed so utterly pointless and trivial. And he would much rather focus on something else and something bigger. Right now he would simply worry about the dinner with her and not anything else. He raised his brows at her words and gave her a curt nod. "That was what I was hoping to hear. "He said to her with a charming and charismatic smile as he looked into her eyes. He didn't say anything else to her and for some time he looked into her eyes before thinking his answer through. "I do love a good steak." He responded to her calmly.

Megan met his gaze, her expression softening, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in her eyes. She could sense the tension beneath his charming smile, as if there was more he wanted to say but was choosing not to. Taking a steadying breath, she replied with a gentle smile of her own. "Then steak it is," she said, her tone warm yet cautious. "I think we could both use a night to just… enjoy the moment." She paused, searching his face. "No more heavy talk, at least for tonight. Just good food, good wine, and hopefully, some laughter. Sound good?" She watched him, hoping her words would break through the unspoken tension. "Besides, if there’s one thing I know, you'd be crazy to turn down a perfectly cooked steak," she added, her voice lightening as she teased him gently. "So ready to head next door?" she asked sweetly as she began to stand up. As much as she didn't mind eating bar food, she was actually feeling really hungry and been craving steak all week. "So, tell me any special plans this weekend? Or are you all work and no play type?" She asked with a cheeky smile.

Wilson had nearly spit out his Jack & coke when Juniper swung the bar doors open with a level of pageantry that even he could envy. She was always a little out there, and that’s what he loved about her. Never a dull moment. He called the bartender over to order the usual for her once she saw him and made a beeline over to the empty bar stool next to him.

“Yup, we can agree on that - but at least it wouldn’t get boring.” Toby laughed as he watched her finishing up the stitches. “Now that does sound like the kind of career I’d enjoy. Where do I sign?” While his doctors would probably disapprove, he wouldn’t mind working as a cookie tester full time. “Give me all the flavors, I’ll test as many as you need me to.” A light chuckle fell from his lips though he was serious about his offer. “I don’t expect anything less from you, Miss perfectionist.” He teased Fallon playfully. “Good thing I’m already a regular at the gym but I’ll definitely sneak in some extra hours. And horror movies are always a good idea. But no movie night without popcorn and nachos. What do you say?” Raising his brow, he stepped closer; it wasn’t like he was trying to distract her from work but he was getting a little bit impatient. “Are you almost done? No pressure but I’m starving and hangry Toby is no fun.”

Fallon glanced up from her stitches, a smirk dancing on her lips at Toby's playful banter. "Well, I can't have hangry Toby ruining our movie night," she replied, shaking her head teasingly. "I'll do my best to ensure you stay well-fed and not a terrifying version of yourself." She carefully tied off the last stitch, proud to have completed the task, and set down her supplies with a satisfying clatter. "There you go! All done," she said, casually brushing her hands together as if to dust off any remnants of work. "Now, about that cookie tester job—are you sure you wouldn’t get bored of eating delicious cookies all day? I mean, it’s a serious commitment." Her eyes sparkled as she leaned against the counter, knowing how much Toby loved the idea. "But I could always use a sidekick in the kitchen to help with quality control. Maybe you'll come up with some amazing flavors and be the star of the cookie world." Stepping around him, she playfully nudged his arm. "And I don’t think we can have a movie night without nachos, but I’ll personally supervise the popcorn preparation, so it meets my high standards." She paused, raising an eyebrow. "However, if you burn it, I will have to reconsider our friendship. Just a heads up." Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she continued, “So, what horror movie do you want to watch? I’ve been on a classic kick, but I can be persuaded to try something newer. You know I can handle the jump scares, right?” She shot him an exaggerated confident smile, knowing full well that he often found her reaction to horror movies more entertaining than the films themselves. "And hey, since we're talking about 'perfection' here," she added with a chuckle, “what’s your take on the ultimate nacho topping? That’ll definitely set the tone for our cozy night in.” She was genuinely curious, wanting to keep the playful conversation flowing while getting to know his quirks a little better.

Milo was once an ordinary kid who loved to act in school plays and dreamt of bright lights and big stages. Growing up in a small town where everyone knew each other, he had a close-knit family that always encouraged his wild aspirations despite their modest means. Milo’s breakout role came unexpectedly just after high school when a talent scout spotted him performing at a local theater festival. Fast forward ten years, and he found himself navigating the treacherous waters of fame as one of Hollywood's hottest stars — adored by fans yet scrutinized daily by tabloids. Despite his meteoric rise, Milo remained grounded, often reflecting on the values imparted to him during those formative years.

Nicole chuckled, grabbing one of the cookies and breaking it in half. She handed him a piece, shaking her head with a playful grin. “Oh, I bet the ghost would be all about these cookies,” she teased, leaning back into the couch. “I mean, haunting’s gotta work up an appetite, right? Who wouldn't want a chocolate chip cookie after centuries of spooking people?” She smiled warmly, watching him with that familiar ease they’d always shared, her eyes softening as she took in the moment. "And don’t even pretend you’d give up these cookies, Mr. Hollywood. You may have fancy catered meals now, but I know where your heart really is,” she said, raising a brow. “Right here—with homemade cookies and bad ghost stories on a creaky old couch." Nicole gave him a gentle nudge, trying to hide her smile. “So, what’s the plan? Do we leave an offering of cookies to keep the ghost happy, or do we keep the cookies all to ourselves? Because I think we should keep them all to ourselves, while we watch one a really cheesy movie, what do you think?"