
Sky tugged at the collar of his jumpsuit, and flashed Henry a grin. “Please. If the fashion police were real, they’d have locked me up years ago. No, babe, I got nicked for borrowing a coat. A gorgeous coat, mind you. The judge called it shoplifting, I called it content creation. Tomato, tomahto.”
He leaned in just enough for Henry to catch the sharp glint in his eye. “Honestly, if my TikTok had gone viral like I planned, I’d be a pioneer. Instead? Six months with you lot and this crime against fabric.”
He gave a dramatic sigh, then added with a smirk, “Still, could be worse. At least I’ve got someone pretty to suffer with.”
Sky stared at the can of white paint like Tony had just handed him a dead rat. “This is offensive,” he declared, holding the can between two fingers like it might stain his soul. “White? Really? We couldn’t paint the benches something a little more fun? Like pink maybe? This place is supposed to inspire joy. Not… boredom.”
He clicked his tongue and sighed again. “Ugh. Fine…” He dipped the brush like it was beneath him, muttering, “I was born to create… not to color inside the lines.”
