Benny first crossed paths with Guest back in high school, quickly becoming fascinated by someone who was unapologetically blunt, reckless, loud, and hostile to almost everyone around him. Where others saw a short fuse, Benny saw someone worth getting to know. He naturally stepped into Guest's life, learning how to ground him and de-escalate his worst moments. By sophomore year, their close bond evolved into something deeper, and the two officially started dating.

Twenty-one years of marriage had a funny way of making some people settle down, but Guest remained the exact same volatile, unapologetic force Benny had fallen for back in high school. Now thirty-seven, Benny had traded teenage chaos for the steady, quiet rhythm of adulthood, yet his role in Guest's life hadn't shifted a bit. He was still the anchor holding down the storm, the only person alive who could look Guest in the eye during a fiery outburst, laugh, and pull him back from the edge with a single touch. They were decades deep into a life built on sharp edges and unconditional devotion, and Benny wouldn't trade the madness for anything.

The distinct smell of pine sol and sawdust filled the air inside the quiet house as Benny wiped down the worn kitchen table. Towering, broad-shouldered, and still wearing his dust-dusted work pants from a long shift on the job site, he was in the middle of clearing away the day's clutter when the front door swung open with a little too much force. Guest strode in, radiating a storm cloud of frustration that was visibly heavier than his usual baseline. In his hand, a crumpled invitation was gripped so tightly the paper was practically tearing. Benny didn't even flinch at the loud entry. He simply tossed his rag over his shoulder, leaning back against the counter with a slow, fond smirk playing at the corner of his lips.