"Look, I'm just glad we're gonna get a nice, quiet meal before tonight's concert," Tony said. "You know, just a couple of regular guys, not MKTO."

Phoebe gasped, practically vibrating in her seat. "It's MKTO! I'm so chirping this!" She reached for her phone, her eyes bright with excitement.

"No!" Melanie snapped, eyes sharp. "You'll scare them away!"

Before anyone could react, Melanie subtly used her powers. A gust of chilled air swept the room, frost crackling across the windows. Ms. Wong, who was mid-step, froze solid—her eyes wide and mouth caught in a half-smile.

Phoebe blinked in shock. "Uh... did you just—?"

Melanie shot her a look. "She's fine. She needed a break."

The band approached the counter, looking around.

"Excuse me?" Malcolm asked, his voice warm but slightly confused. "Can we get a table?"

"Ra—Ra—right away!" Phoebe stammered, her voice hitting a high-pitched squeak.

Melanie straightened, smoothing down her hair as she stepped forward with a cool smile. "Hi. Welcome to Splatburger." Her voice was calm, composed—like she wasn't moments away from a total meltdown.

Malcolm looked at her, concern flickering in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Melanie forced a laugh. "Feeling a little weak in the knees."

"Are you sure it's not your busted shoes?" Tony teased lightly.

Melanie arched an eyebrow, fighting back the urge to snap. "Careful, Malcolm. Insulting a girl's shoes is dangerous."

Tony chuckled. "Right. My bad. Pretty shoes, though."

"Pretty?" Melanie repeated, blinking. She wasn't sure if it was an insult or a compliment, but she wasn't about to argue.

"Have a seat," she said, motioning to a booth. "I'll grab you some water." She nearly tripped over her words but caught herself. "Or, uh... water some grab you."

Tony chuckled. "Thank you."

Melanie turned sharply, glancing back at Phoebe with a look that said, Don't say a word. Phoebe just nodded, her lips pressed tightly together.

The moment they were out of earshot, Melanie exhaled sharply. "Okay. We just need to serve them like nothing's wrong."

"And hope they don't notice Ms. Wong frozen like a popsicle," Phoebe whispered.

Melanie shrugged, brushing past her. "I'll handle it." She didn't know how, but she'd figure it out. Because if this day was going to fall apart, it wasn't going to be because she lost control.

Not this time.

Melanie stood behind the counter, her heart hammering so hard she was sure Phoebe could hear it. She carefully set down the plate, trying to keep her hands steady. "And here is some wasabi ranch sauce for your pigs in a blanket." Her smile felt too big, too obvious, but she held it anyway.

Tony beamed. "Oh, on point. That's my favorite. Wait, how did you know that?"

Melanie's mouth went dry. She couldn't exactly say, Because I know everything about you, including your favorite dipping sauces, your favorite color, and the exact height you listed in that interview three years ago.

So instead, she forced a light laugh. "Because I know everything about y—uh, yummy dipping sauces." She waved her hand toward the plate. "Splat away!"

Phoebe shot her a sharp glance, but Melanie ignored it, hiding her excitement behind another forced smile. She could not blow this. Not when they were right there.

"Ooh, here come my Polynesian pot stickers," Malcolm said, his eyes lighting up as Phoebe arrived with another plate.

Melanie's stomach flipped. She remembered the interview where Tony said he was allergic to pineapple. Her gaze snapped to the food, her heart leaping into her throat.

"Tony can't eat Polynesian pot stickers," she blurted. The words flew out before she could stop them.

Tony blinked, confused. "What?"

Before anyone could react, Melanie kicked off her broken shoe—using it as a weapon. It shot across the room, knocking the plate clean out of Phoebe's hands. The pot stickers splattered against the wall in a mess of sauce and pineapple.

Everyone stared.

"Hey!" Tony said, half-laughing, half-stunned. "That shoe just took out my Polynesian pot stickers."

Melanie stepped forward, her cheeks burning. "I'm sorry! It's just that... you're allergic to pineapple, and I didn't want you to get sick." She hesitated, biting her lip. Then it slipped out, fast and breathless. "You're MKTO."

Tony's eyebrows lifted, and Malcolm chuckled.

"I think the shoe ninja's a fan, bro."

Melanie winced. So much for playing it cool. She could feel her excitement bubbling under the surface, ready to explode.

"Okay, it's true," she admitted, holding up her hands. "I'm a super fan. But I heard you guys say that you wanted to have a quiet meal, and I ruined it, and I'm sorry."

Tony's grin widened. "Sorry for what? You just saved my life."

Melanie's stomach twisted in shock. Her life?

Before she could process it, he added, "Look, how... how can we repay you?"

Melanie's brain short-circuited. The first thing that popped into her head shot out of her mouth like a rocket. "Marry me."

Silence.

Her eyes widened in horror. "Sorry!" she stammered, waving her hands. "That was really weird. I mean, let's just... hang out forever? No, that's worse. Forget I said anything!"

Malcolm chuckled, while Tony gave her a playful smile.

"Hm," Tony said, exchanging a look with Malcolm. "I think we have a better idea."

Melanie swallowed hard, trying to look casual. "Yeah? What's that?"

But inside, she was screaming.

Melanie stood near the edge of the stage, her heart pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. The lights bathed the band in a warm, golden glow, making them look like something out of a dream. She barely breathed as she watched MKTO sing, every note hitting her like a wave.

"We broke down tryin' to leave town... Flyin' on the road to change..."

The words felt personal, like they were singing right to her. She could feel her chest tighten, a warmth spreading through her like fire. This wasn't just a concert. This was everything.

Phoebe stood beside her, swaying slightly to the beat. Even she looked swept up in the moment, eyes wide and shining. Melanie tried to play it cool, but every note made it harder. She caught herself mouthing the words, her whole body buzzing.

"We were born to run. Cali, here we come..."

And then Tony glanced out into the crowd, his eyes sweeping over the faces—landing on Melanie for the briefest second. Her breath caught in her throat. Did he see her? Was that real?

Her heart was a mess of excitement and disbelief. She'd saved their lunch, and now she was here, watching them sing like it was some personal concert just for her. She couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop the way her chest ached with how much she loved this moment.

Meanwhile, across town, Max's night was spiraling.

He stood outside the venue, drenched in sweat, flailing as he tried to defend himself from a flock of relentless birds.

"Not again!" he shouted, waving his arms. "You win, birds!"

But the birds didn't care. They screeched and dive-bombed, pecking at him as if he were their personal enemy.

Max stumbled, tripping over the curb. "I said you win!" he cried, ducking as a bird swooped a little too close to his ear.

Back at the concert, the band kept singing.

"This ain't the same summer song that you used to know..."

Melanie sighed, leaning against the edge of a table. "Does this night ever have to end?" she whispered, almost to herself.

Phoebe smiled but gave a regretful glance to the band. "Yeah, we kinda have that concert thing."

Tony's phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. "Apparently there's some crazy fan outside the venue, screaming at birds."

Melanie choked on a laugh, covering her mouth. "What?"

"Yeah," Tony said, still watching the text pop up on his phone. "Some fans just don't know how to act."

Melanie blushed, looking down at her hands. She could feel her face heat as she realized how ridiculous her excitement probably seemed. She'd practically risked her job just to be near them.

And okay, maybe she'd done one small, slightly weird thing...

Tony's eyes narrowed slightly, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Are you putting my used napkin in your pocket?"

Melanie froze, her hand halfway to her jacket. She blinked, caught like a deer in headlights.

"What? No," she lied badly, her voice an octave too high. She dropped the napkin as if it had burned her.

Tony chuckled, shaking his head as he turned back to his bandmates.

Melanie swallowed hard, her face burning. She glanced at Phoebe, who raised her eyebrows with a look that said, Seriously?

Melanie bit her lip to keep from laughing. She didn't care. She didn't care how ridiculous she looked. Because right now, this was perfect. And she'd hold onto that as long as she could.

Melanie lingered by the table, her heart still racing from the surreal moment. She could barely believe she was here, serving MKTO, talking to them, laughing with them. Her hands trembled at her sides, nerves buzzing beneath her skin. She glanced at Phoebe, who gave her a tiny, encouraging nod.

This was it. Her once-in-a-lifetime shot. She wasn't about to let it slip through her fingers.

Clearing her throat, Melanie tried to keep her voice steady, though it still wavered with excitement. "Um, I—I know this is probably super annoying, and I never do this, but... would it be okay if I got a picture with you guys?" She winced at how desperate she sounded but pressed on. "It would really make my day. Actually, it would probably make my whole life."

Malcolm grinned, his smile as warm as the lights on stage. "Of course! We'd love to."

Tony nodded, his tone playful. "Yeah, after all, you did save my life earlier. That's definitely picture-worthy."

Melanie's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she couldn't move. Couldn't think. The words didn't seem real, like her brain was struggling to keep up with the fact that this was actually happening.

"Y-You would?" she stammered, blinking rapidly. Her legs felt like they could give out at any moment.

"Absolutely," Malcolm said, already pulling out his phone. "Come on, let's make it happen."

Phoebe gave Melanie a gentle nudge, whispering, "Go! Before you pass out!"

Melanie stumbled forward, her body moving on autopilot. She stood between the two of them, close enough to smell Tony's cologne—fresh and sharp—and feel the warmth of Malcolm's arm as it brushed against hers. She tried to play it cool, but her hands were shaking so badly she had to clasp them together to keep from reaching up and fangirling out loud.

Malcolm held out his phone and took the first shot. Melanie smiled, her cheeks burning as bright as a flame. Then Tony snapped one with his phone.

"You should get one on yours too," Tony offered, his grin easy.

Melanie blinked, struggling to process the words. "I—uh, yeah! Sure!" she fumbled, pulling her phone out with trembling hands.

Tony took her phone, snapped a picture, then paused. "You know what?" He glanced at Malcolm, who nodded as if reading his mind. Tony smiled as he quickly tapped at her phone, then handed it back.

"There you go," he said with a wink.

Melanie took the phone, glancing down at the screen—and froze. Her mouth dropped open. Not only had Tony taken the picture, but his number and Malcolm's were now saved in her contacts.

She blinked, convinced she was hallucinating. "No way."

"Just in case you ever need to save me from another potsticker disaster," Tony teased, laughing softly.

Melanie opened her mouth to respond, to say anything—but nothing came out. Her brain was white noise, a mess of disbelief and overwhelming joy.

She smiled, nodded, and then...

She passed out.

Right there.

Phoebe yelped, diving forward just in time to catch Melanie before she hit the floor. She struggled under her weight, eyes wide with panic. "Oh my gosh! Melanie?"

Tony jumped up, his eyes wide. "Whoa, is she okay?"

Malcolm crouched down beside them, a look of concern knitting his brows. "Is she breathing?"

Phoebe checked her pulse, still cradling Melanie awkwardly. "Yeah, she's fine. She just... fainted." She glanced up, giving them an embarrassed smile. "She's kind of a huge fan."

Tony chuckled, relief easing the tension from his shoulders. "Guess we really made her day, huh?"

Malcolm smiled softly. "Yeah, I'd say so."

A few moments later, Melanie's eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at the circle of worried faces hovering over her and groaned softly. "Did I...?"

"You fainted," Phoebe confirmed, her voice gentle but amused.

Melanie's face turned crimson as the memory rushed back to her. The pictures. The phone numbers. The moment.

"Oh no," she whispered, mortified. "Did I really just faint in front of MKTO?"

Tony grinned, reaching out to help her sit up. "Hey, don't worry. It's not every day we get that kind of reaction. It was kinda cool."

Melanie groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "I think I'm gonna die of embarrassment."

Malcolm chuckled. "Nah, you're good. And hey, we already gave you our numbers. You can text us later to confirm you survived the encounter."

Melanie peeked out from behind her hands, her heart stuttering. "Really?"

Tony nodded, his smile warm. "Really."

Melanie let out a breathless laugh, still dizzy but too happy to care. She glanced at Phoebe, who gave her a proud thumbs-up.

It was official. Best. Night. Ever.

☆☆

Melanie burst through the front door, her face glowing with excitement. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes wide with disbelief, as if she were still riding the high of the night. Phoebe was right behind her, equally breathless, a smile stretched from ear to ear.

"You guys are never going to believe this!" Melanie said, her voice practically vibrating with joy. She held her phone close, clutching it to her chest like it was made of gold.

In the living room, Hank looked up from his spot on the couch, his eyebrows raised. Barb glanced over from the kitchen, her hands on her hips. Billy and Nora exchanged a curious look, while the remains of the backyard moon-throwing party still lingered in the air.

Shreddy Thunderman, discarded and forgotten, lay in a heap on the floor.

"What's going on?" Hank asked, eyeing Melanie's wild energy.

Melanie practically bounced on her toes. "I just had the best night of my entire life!" she gushed, eyes sparkling. "MKTO gave me a private concert!"

Phoebe nodded, still catching her breath. "It was insane. We were this close to them the whole time. Like, right there!" She held her fingers an inch apart for emphasis.

Hank blinked. "You had a what with who now?"

Melanie's grin widened. "MKTO! The band! They sang to us, talked to us, and—" She broke off, her face lighting up even more. "They even gave me their phone numbers!"

Barb nearly dropped the plate she was holding. "Wait, what?"

Melanie giggled, holding out her phone. "Look! I got pictures, too." She flicked through her gallery, pausing on one where she stood between Malcolm and Tony, both of them smiling warmly.

But as she swiped to the next photo, her face froze.

Oops. Wrong photo.

It was a goofy shot of Max from earlier that day, caught mid-yell with his hair sticking up like he'd been attacked by a flock of angry birds. She winced, quickly flipping past it.

"Sorry, birdturd," Melanie muttered with a laugh, shooting Phoebe an apologetic look.

Phoebe couldn't help but snort. "That's gonna haunt him forever."

Hank chuckled. "Serves him right for whatever trouble he's gotten into today."

And right on cue, the front door creaked open again. Max trudged inside, his shoulders slumped, his hair still a mess of twigs and bird feathers. His face was streaked with dirt, his expression exhausted.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Yikes," Billy said, breaking the silence. "What happened to you?"

Max glared, his voice low and grumbling. "It's a long story."

Barb crossed her arms. "I hope it ends with you taking a long shower."

Max scowled, but before he could say anything, Phoebe stepped forward, still glowing from the night's excitement.

"There you are!" she said brightly. "Let me guess—you've been having the worst night ever?"

Max narrowed his eyes. "How'd you know?"

Phoebe's grin widened. "Because I've been having the best night ever!" She turned to Melanie, practically bouncing. "MKTO gave us a private concert. It was epic!"

Max froze, his eyes flicking between Phoebe and Melanie, like he wasn't sure if this was a dream or a nightmare. "You had a what... with who?"

Melanie stepped forward, beaming. "It was amazing. They sang for us, we got pictures, and I even got their phone numbers." She held up her phone again like a trophy, glowing with pride.

Max looked like someone had punched him in the gut. "Their numbers?" His voice cracked slightly, horror etched into every word.

Phoebe shrugged, her grin teasing. "Yep. Turns out saving someone's life gets you more than a thank-you."

Melanie nodded, eyes shining. "Yeah, I kinda passed out after, but it was worth it."

Max groaned, dragging his hands down his face. "This is officially the worst day of my life."

Phoebe shared a look with Melanie, the two of them giggling under their breath.

"Want me to show you some of the photos?" Melanie offered, her tone playful.

Max shot her a glare but didn't answer, instead stomping past them and heading straight for the stairs.

"I'll be in the shower," he muttered darkly.

The moment the door shut behind him, Phoebe and Melanie burst into laughter.

"Best. Night. Ever," Melanie sighed, sinking onto the couch, still clutching her phone like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Barb shook her head with a smile. "Well, I'm glad someone had a good night."

Melanie glanced down at her phone again, scrolling through the photos. She still couldn't believe it. The night felt like a dream, one she'd remember forever.

And as Max's angry mutters echoed faintly from upstairs, she smiled even wider. Yeah. Definitely the best night ever.

Melanie sat cross-legged on the old couch in Max's lair, her fingers tracing random patterns on the fabric as she waited. The hum of Max's gadgets filled the room, but her mind was elsewhere. Her thoughts circled back to the concert, the photos, and—most importantly—what she'd overheard about Max being there with Cassandra.

Her heart clenched. Max was hers, and even though it wasn't like him to do something wrong on purpose, the fact that he went with her friend stung. She knew she needed to hear him out, but it didn't make the waiting any easier.

The distant sound of the shower shutting off upstairs made Melanie sit up straighter, her heart thudding. Footsteps echoed, heavy and slow, descending the stairs. The door creaked open, and there was Max, freshly showered, running a towel through his hair. His shirt clung to him slightly, his dark hair damp, and for a second, Melanie almost forgot why she was mad. Almost.

He paused in the doorway, eyes widening when he spotted her. "Uh... hey," he said, his voice hesitant. "What are you doing down here?"

Melanie stood, her arms crossing over her chest. "Waiting for you."

Max glanced around like he