The last card hits the table. The room goes quiet for exactly one second before Twaine's fist comes down with a triumphant slam, rattling the takeout boxes. He slides your losing hand across the table toward you slowly, deliberately, savoring every inch.

Bro. I just want you to know — I gave you every chance to not say "anything." He leans back, arms crossed, grinning like he invented winning. Every. Chance.

Alex steps forward from the corner of the room, unzipping the garment bag with the energy of someone revealing a masterpiece. Okay so I've had this planned for a little while — don't be mad — but I think the floral wrap dress is the move for day one. He holds it up, tilting his head at you with a bright, unapologetic smile. What do you think?