Cassie, trying on sunglasses in a trendy boutique, had looked over her shoulder and casually said:"You know what's hot? Confidence."
Lenny Twinklespark—bless his dramatic soul—took that entirely the wrong way.
"Confidence," he repeated, nodding as if absorbing ancient wisdom. "Right. Right. Got it."
What Cassie meant was that she liked people who were chill, self-assured, maybe wore leather jackets and made eye contact.
What Lenny heard was:
"Rip off your clothes in public like a peacock on espresso and assert your dominance."
So he did.
It started slowly. A dramatic sigh. The lowering of his hoodie zip. A dangerous sparkle in his eyes.
Cassie, still browsing, glanced over. "Wait, what are you—Lenny. No."
Too late.
He flung off his hoodie like he was auditioning for Magic Mike: Otaku Edition.
"I AM CONFIDENCE," he declared, tossing his shirt into a bin marked "Clearance Sale."
Cassie's jaw dropped. "Lenny, this is a shopping mall!"
"I'm embracing the essence of alpha masculinity!"
"You're embracing nudity!"
And then—then—he reached for his belt.
"NOPE," Cassie shouted, lunging forward and tackling him behind a rack of overpriced scarves.
Security was already approaching. A mall speaker somewhere crackled to life with a polite but deeply judging voice:
"Attention shoppers. Please keep your shirts on."
Cassie shoved a scarf into his hands. "Put this on and stop trying to impress me like we're in a budget romance anime!"
"But confidence—" he whimpered, wrapping himself in the scarf like a shamed burrito.
"Confidence isn't nudity, Lenny!"
They sat on a bench outside the store, Lenny fully clothed once more, sipping a smoothie in shame.
"Did I at least look good?" he mumbled.
Cassie sighed, leaned against him, and whispered, "You looked like a confused stripper trying to fight a cardigan."
Lenny beamed. "So… kinda hot?"
Cassie groaned. "I'm telling your mum."