Suddenly—

WHAM! The senator hit the ground with a groan.

"Senator down!" the announcer blurted, nearly dropping his mic.

Melanie, standing off to the side in her designer tennis dress, gasped, her perfectly glossed lips parting in shock. "Okay, Max, baby, I love drama, but what is happening right now?"

Max, meanwhile, had a smug grin on his face. He twirled his racquet in one hand. "Nothing, my darling trophy girlfriend. Just making sure my rightful place in this club is secured."*

Across the court, Phoebe shot him a glare, arms crossed, steam practically rising off her. "Oh, really?" She turned to Link. "Max is totally using his powers!"

"Pffft. Just my power serve," she added, attempting innocence.

Link, still tugging his pants up after Max's earlier prank, frowned. "Wait, so both of you are cheating?"

Phoebe sighed, guilt creeping in. "Okay, maybe I used my powers a little. But Max started it! He pants'd me!"

Melanie, still bouncing slightly with excitement, clapped her hands together. "Wait, he did?" She turned to Max, giggling. "That's actually so funny. No wonder I love you."*

"Thank you, babe." Max smirked, blowing her a kiss.

Link shook his head. "Guys, this isn't fair—"

Phoebe cut him off, shoulders slumping. "Look, I'm sorry. The truth is, I'm horrible at tennis. I just wanted to win so I could join the country club and spend more time with you."*

Link softened. "Phoebe, you shouldn't have to cheat just to hang out with me."*

"I know. This was wrong." She took a deep breath. "Can we just finish the game the right way?"

Link smiled. "I'd like that."*

The announcer cleared his throat. "They do have match point, but... who knows what could happen next?"

Max twirled his racquet, unfazed. "Oh, please. I don't need superpowers to win."* He turned dramatically to Melanie. "Babe, watch and learn."*

Melanie beamed, practically swooning. "Always, Maxie."*

The final serve came—a blur of speed, a clash of determination. The crowd held its breath... then—

THUD!

Phoebe, tangled in her own feet, face-planted onto the court.

The crowd gasped.

"Except Thunderslam," Max snickered, pumping a fist into the air.

The announcer, regaining his composure, raised his microphone. "The winners of the Lacroix Cup—Mr. Lacroix and Mr. Thunderman!"*

SPECTATORS: [applauding wildly]

Max and Lacroix roared in victory, bumping chests like gladiators.

"YES! I'm a member! The world is mine!" Max declared, arms wide, basking in the moment.

Lacroix chuckled, shaking his head. "Congratulations, gentlemen. On behalf of all of us—"

Before he could finish, the supposed club president snatched the trophy away, cradling it like a long-lost treasure. "Give me that!" He twirled dramatically. "Bow to me, country club employees! Bow to your new member!"*

The staff exchanged concerned glances.

"Drummer boy, celebration music!"* Max ordered.

A steel drum player immediately struck up a tropical beat.

Melanie, twirling beside Max, clapped excitedly. "Ooooh, I love this! Victory never looked hotter!"

But suddenly—

"Ahem."*

The music stopped abruptly.

A new voice cut through the celebration—cool, unimpressed.

"You are acting in an incredibly ugly manner," the real Lacroix stated, stepping forward with a disapproving glare. "Quite frankly, not befitting a member of our club."*

Max, still caught up in the moment, scoffed. "Like you can do anything about it. Now how about a victory lap?" He turned to the fake Lacroix. "Ride, preppy!"

The supposed club president suddenly stiffened. "I most certainly will not!"

Max frowned. "Uh-huh, you will. I'm Max Thunderman, best friend of President Lacroix."*

The real Lacroix smirked. "That's impossible. I'm President Lacroix."*

Silence.

Max's eyes darted between the two men.

"Oh..."

Melanie's jaw dropped. "Ooooh, plot twist."*

Phoebe, arms crossed, gave Max a triumphant smirk. "Yeah, Max. Who is that guy?"

Lacroix sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. "That's my brother. He's president—" He shot the imposter a glare. "—of sleeping on my couch."*

"Oof. Awkward." Melanie muttered, biting back a grin.

Lacroix sighed again, looking skyward as if begging for patience. "Two weeks has lasted two years!"

Max, still clutching the trophy, gulped.

Phoebe's smirk widened. "Game, set, match, Lacroix."*

The scene was pure chaos as security closed in on the fake Lacroix, who frantically looked for an escape. The real Lacroix stood tall, arms crossed, watching with utter disapproval. The crowd murmured in confusion, heads turning between the two men like an intense tennis match.

The announcer's voice crackled over the speakers, trying to regain control of the situation. "Uh... well, folks, it seems there's been... some unexpected excitement at today's tournament. But rest assured, we will continue once this little... misunderstanding is resolved."

"I'm just tryin' to figure things out!" the fake Lacroix protested as security grabbed his arms.

"Oh, I think we've figured quite enough," the real Lacroix said coolly. "Security, get him out of here."

Phoebe threw up her arms, completely exasperated. "Wait, he's the imposter? I knew something felt off!"

Link shook his head, muttering, "You could've figured that out before he stole my lunch, Phoebe."

The fake Lacroix desperately scanned the crowd, looking for sympathy. "Yeah, you're right! We can't have people eatin' out of the garbage at our country club!"

"I meant you," the real Lacroix corrected with an icy glare. "And take his jacket."

The fake Lacroix's face fell as security yanked the luxurious club blazer off his shoulders. "Ah, no, no! Not my jacket!" he yelped, struggling as they dragged him away. "No! No!"

Melanie clutched Max's arm, her eyes wide with shock. "Okay, I was expecting drama, but this is next level," she whispered, barely containing her excitement.

Max smirked, shaking his head in amusement. "This club is way more fun than I thought."

Max stood there, arms crossed, watching as security dragged the fake Lacroix away. He huffed, glancing down at his now jacket-less self. "Man, I really liked that jacket."

Phoebe smirked, folding her arms. "Yeah, well, maybe next time you won't stab your own twin in the back for a little luxury."

Max scoffed. "I didn't stab you in the back. I simply... upgraded my lifestyle."

The real Lacroix cleared his throat, stepping forward with his usual air of authority. "Well, Mr. Thunderman, despite your... eventful presence here, I must say you certainly livened up the club today."

Melanie beamed, standing tall beside Max. "Of course he did! Max always makes an impression."

Lacroix turned to her with a warm smile. "That he does. And you, my dear, are welcome back anytime."

Max's smug grin returned. "Nice! So I'll just—"

Lacroix held up a hand. "Ah, but you, Max, may only return with her—and with a much better attitude."

Phoebe snorted, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. "Oh, that's gold."

Max's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?" He turned to Melanie. "You knew him this whole time, and you didn't tell me?!"

Melanie shrugged, giving him an innocent smile. "Did it matter? You were gonna win, right?"

Max groaned, rubbing his temples. "Unbelievable."

Link clapped his hands together. "Well, this has been a great day. Who's up for ice skating? You know, what we were supposed to do before all this?"

Phoebe sighed, shaking her head but smiling. "Yeah, let's just go before Max tries to bribe someone for another jacket."

As the group turned to leave, Melanie looped her arm through Max's, practically bouncing with joy. "Come on, babe. You might have lost the jacket, but at least you still have me."

Max sighed dramatically. "Yeah, yeah. And I guess that's worth something."

Melanie rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. "You're lucky you're cute."

☆☆

Max lay sprawled out on the couch, hands behind his head, looking entirely too comfortable. Melanie was stretched out beside him, resting her head against his shoulder as she absentmindedly traced patterns on his arm. She wasn't paying much attention to Phoebe—she was too busy enjoying Max's warmth and the fact that they finally had a moment to relax.

Phoebe stood with her arms crossed, watching them with an unimpressed look. "Goin' out with Link again, huh?"

Max smirked without even looking up. "Is he still mad at me?"

Phoebe tilted her head. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

A loud creaking sound filled the room as Max's armrest suddenly bent under the force of an unseen hand. His smirk faltered for a second.

"Now he's over it," Phoebe said dryly.

Max rolled his eyes. "See? No hard feelings."

Phoebe glanced down at the coffee table, her expression turning sour. "Max, I told you not to leave your dishes out."

Before Max could respond, a blur of blue zipped past them.

Billy came to a stop with an innocent grin. "Max didn't do it, Uncle Billy did."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes. "Billy, what's gotten into you lately? No TV again tonight."

Max simply smirked as Billy sighed in defeat.

"A pleasure doing business with you," Max said smoothly, reaching over to give Billy a pat on the back before he zoomed away.

Melanie lifted her head, laughing softly. "Stick with him, Uncle Billy. He'll make you a very rich man."

Max grinned. "See? She gets it."

Phoebe groaned, rubbing her temples. "I can't deal with both of you."

Max pulled Melanie closer, a satisfied smile on his face as Phoebe stormed off. "I love it when we win."

Melanie smirked, resting her head back against him. "Me too."

Max groaned dramatically, dragging a pillow over his face as Melanie stood over him with her arms crossed.

"Get up," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Max mumbled from beneath the pillow, "No thanks, I'm good."

Melanie grabbed the pillow and yanked it away. "We're going out."

Max squinted at her. "It's late. Can't we just—"

"Nope!" Melanie grinned, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him up. "We're going back to the country club."

Max groaned louder, flopping back against the cushions. "Mel, they threw me out. As in physically removed my jacket and booted me out the door level of rejection. Why on earth would I go back?"

Melanie sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Because Theo said you could come back... as long as you had a better attitude. And, let's face it, you owe me a fancy date night."

Max rolled his eyes. "I don't know what's worse—the idea of getting back in there or having to wear another stuffy outfit."

Melanie smirked. "Oh, about that... you're getting dressed."

Max looked at her warily. "Define 'getting dressed' in a way that doesn't involve me wearing anything too fancy."

Melanie just grinned.

Ten minutes later, Max stood in front of the mirror, arms stiff at his sides as he glared at his reflection.

"You cannot be serious," he muttered, adjusting the tie she had forced on him.

Melanie beamed, clearly proud of her work. "You look amazing."

Max scowled at his navy blazer and neatly pressed slacks. "I look like I should be applying for an executive position at Evil Corp."

She rolled her eyes. "You look like a gentleman."

Max turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "And that's supposed to be a good thing?"

Melanie patted his chest. "Tonight, it is." She grabbed his hand and started leading him toward the door.

Max dug his heels in. "Wait, how are we even getting in? Last time I checked, I was public enemy number one."

Melanie smirked. "Not when I bring you in."

Max frowned. "That still makes no sense."

She shrugged. "Perception, Max. All they needed was for you to show up with the right attitude."

Max sighed in defeat. "This is ridiculous."

Melanie pulled him toward the door. "Come on, country club royalty awaits."

As they arrived at the country club, Max was half-expecting security to swoop down and toss him out before he even reached the entrance. Instead, Theodore Lacroix was waiting, dressed in his usual sophisticated manner.

"Back so soon, Thunderman?" Theo mused, adjusting his cufflinks.

Max frowned. "Surprised they're even letting me through the door."

Theo smirked. "Melanie is a VIP here. She has the power to elevate certain... guests." He gave Max a pointed look. "But, let's see if you actually deserve the privilege this time."

Max glanced at Melanie. "So all I had to do was not act like a total menace?"

Melanie winked. "Bingo."

With that, Theo gestured toward the grand entrance. "Enjoy your evening."

Max still wasn't sure how he felt about all of this, but with Melanie clinging to his arm, looking absolutely radiant in her elegant dress, he figured he could play along.

Inside, the club was buzzing with quiet sophistication—wealthy patrons mingling over glasses of champagne, waiters gliding between tables like perfectly choreographed dancers. The dim lighting and soft music set the perfect atmosphere for an upscale date night.

Melanie led Max toward a table near the terrace, the perfect spot overlooking the golf course under the twinkling night sky.

"Well?" she prompted as they took their seats. "Is this so bad?"

Max glanced around, watching a waiter immediately approach with a tray of warm towels.

"I feel like I just walked into a movie," Max admitted, adjusting his tie uncomfortably. "One where I'm definitely the villain."

Melanie laughed. "Relax. No one here is out to get you."

As if on cue, the waiter set the towels down with a polite nod. "Would sir and madam care for a beverage to start?"

Max was about to scoff and make a joke—something about this being way too fancy for him—but before he could, he caught Melanie's subtle glance.

He stopped himself.

Instead, he cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh, yeah. I'll have whatever she's having."

Melanie's lips curled into a small smile as she ordered their drinks, and the waiter disappeared into the sea of refined guests.

"Look at you," she teased. "Already learning how to play the game."

Max rolled his eyes. "I could have embarrassed us, but I chose not to."

"That's called growth, babe."

Max huffed. "Don't get used to it."

The meal was unlike anything Max had ever experienced—each course perfectly prepared, the service impeccable. He was used to grabbing burgers with his siblings, not eating food so fancy that it came with a description from the chef.

At one point, Melanie reached for her napkin, about to dab at a stray drop of sauce near her lips, but before she could—

Max beat her to it, offering her his own napkin first.

Melanie blinked in surprise. "Max!"

He smirked. "What? I can have manners."

Melanie laughed. "Are you sure you're the real Max Thunderman?"

"Would the real Max Thunderman survive this much 'class' without setting something on fire?"

"Fair point."

They continued their meal, the conversation easy, the tension from earlier completely gone. It was... nice.

As the night wound down, they strolled through the candlelit garden, the faint hum of music still drifting through the air.

"You have to admit," Melanie said, swinging their hands between them, "this was a pretty great night."

Max sighed, pretending to think it over. "It was alright, I guess."

Melanie gasped. "Admit it! You had fun."

Max smirked. "Fine. But if anyone asks, I'm still anti-country club."

Melanie leaned in close. "Your secret's safe with me."

And with that, she kissed him, sealing the perfect end to their surprisingly perfect night.

As they strolled through the candlelit garden, hand in hand, Max's heart pounded just a little harder than usual. He wasn't nervous—Max Thunderman didn't do nervous—but there was something about tonight that made him want to go the extra mile. Maybe it was the way Melanie had effortlessly pulled him into her world, or maybe it was how stunning she looked under the golden glow of the lanterns, her laughter light and carefree.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was because Max was completely, hopelessly, crazy in love with her.

"Wait here," Max suddenly said, stopping in the middle of the stone pathway.

Melanie blinked up at him in confusion. "What? Why?"

Max smirked. "Because I said so. Just... trust me."

Melanie crossed her arms, tilting her head suspiciously but staying put. "Fine. But if you leave me here and come back with some evil scheme, I will be throwing you into the country club fountain."

Max chuckled. "Noted."

He jogged back toward the club's entrance, where he had stashed something earlier. Theo had given him a look when he had asked for a favor, but in the end, he'd pulled through. Max grabbed the small, velvet box from where it had been carefully stored behind the concierge desk and took a deep breath before heading back toward Melanie.

She was standing beneath a trellis covered in vines, the faint scent of roses drifting through the cool night air. When she saw him approaching, she gave him a quizzical look.

"What is that?" she asked, eyeing the box.

Max shrugged, attempting to play it cool despite the slight heat rising in his face. "Just... something I wanted to give you."

Melanie's eyes widened slightly. "Max..."

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know I'm not exactly the 'romantic gift-giving' type, but I do pay attention, alright? And I wanted to give you something that actually means something."

Melanie softened, her eyes searching his face. "You do realize just bringing me here tonight already meant a lot, right?"

Max scoffed. "Yeah, well... I had to outdo myself."

He opened the box, revealing a delicate silver bracelet, the charm in the center a small, intricately detailed lightning bolt.

Melanie gasped. "Max—"

"It's custom," he said quickly, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. "The lightning bolt is obviously for me—because, y'know, I am the most electrifying person you've ever met—but check this out."

He flipped the charm over, revealing a tiny engraving on the back.

"M & M, partners in crime," Melanie read aloud, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at him, her eyes shining. "Max, this is—"

"I know it's not, like, diamond-level fancy or anything," Max interrupted, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "But it's us. And I wanted you to have something that reminded you of that—of me—even when I'm not around annoying you in person."

Melanie didn't say anything at first. Instead, she just stared at him, her expression unreadable.

"Okay, you're kinda freaking me out here," Max muttered. "At least pretend you like it—"

Before he could finish, Melanie launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on tight.

Max, momentarily caught off guard, barely had time to react before she pulled back just enough to press a hard kiss against his lips.

When she finally pulled away, her smile was radiant. "I love it," she said, her voice filled with genuine joy. "Max, this is the sweetest thing you've ever done for me."

Max smirked, regaining his usual confidence. "Yeah,