Jessica stood in front of her open closet like she was trying to solve a world crisis.
“Why do I have so many clothes but nothing to wear?” she mumbled, pulling out one dress, then another, tossing them all over her bed.
She held up a red dress. Too much.
A floral one. Too casual.
A black one. Too funeral.
She groaned and flopped down on her bed, arms spread out like she’d just run a marathon.
“I swear, this is why women lose their minds,” she muttered to herself. “Just one date. Just one perfect outfit.”
Then she shot up again, suddenly remembering a short, off-shoulder cream dress she hadn’t worn in a while.
“Found you,” she grinned, holding it up to her chest in the mirror.
She twirled once and smiled at her reflection.
Not too dramatic. Not too plain. Cute, but confident.
“Alright, Josh,” she said to herself. “You’re not ready for this.”
---
Meanwhile…
Josh stared at his closet like it had personally betrayed him.
“What do guys even wear on dates thes
