Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere Chapter 306 Not So Awesome Foursome (Part 8)

Don stood in front of the tall, wooden closet mirror in his room, adjusting the hem of his plain dark t-shirt.

It fit snugly, the soft cotton stretching just enough across his chest and shoulders. Paired with brown chino pants and black loafers, his look struck a balance between smart and laid-back.

He then grabbed his aviators and clipped them casually to the neckline of his shirt, then slid his watch over his wrist.

These were more tools than accessories—Gary Assist always ca in handy.

Once done, Don straightened up, planting one hand in his pocket while the other dangled at his side. He turned slightly, examining himself in the mirror. The outfit worked, simple and understated.

He wasn't one to overthink clothes; his nod of approval ca after only a mont.

He followed this up with a quick spray of perfu which misted the air, the clean scent lingering as he stepped back. His reflection looked back at him with a faint, almost wistful smile. 'Mom would've loved it if I dressed like this in my old world.'

The thought lingered for a second longer than he'd have liked. His mother's face flashed in his mind—her soft smile, the lines of concern that ford whenever she tried to talk to him during his university days. Back then, he barely made ti to call, caught up in studies and his own life.

Now, knowing he'd likely never see her—or anyone else from that world—again, the ache of missing them crept in.

Don let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Missing them won't change anything," he muttered under his breath. 'At least I've got this second shot at life.'

Glancing at his watch, his brows furrowed. He'd taken over five minutes to get ready—longer than he realized. And to no surprise, a string of ssages from Donald lit up his phone screen:

———

Donald: Hey bro I'm here.

Donald: Don't take too long.

Donald: I'll just assu you're showering bro, no stress.

———

Don exhaled through his nose, amused despite himself. "The guy's persistent."

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Quickly typing out a reply, he sent: Sorry man, my sis was hogging the shower. I'll be out in a mont.

Before closing the app, a thought struck him. Donald had ntioned the family pass to the Battle of the Superhumans earlier. Don's circle of acquaintances wasn't large, but there wasn't much harm in inviting soone else.

He hovered over the keyboard for a mont before sending a ssage to Tori:

———

Don: Hey, a friend of mine got a family pass to the Battle of the Superhumans. If you're interested, let know. Feel free to invite your brother too.

———

Satisfied with the ssage, he pocketed his phone and left his room.

As Don descended the staircase, the familiar sound of voices reached him, along with what sounded like a telenovela—overly dramatic music with fast-paced Spanish dialogue.

"Ay, Dios mío!" a character cried out from the TV, the volu just loud enough to be distracting.

Peeking into the livingroom, Don spotted Samantha and Amanda on the sofa. Samantha was perched forward, her eyes glued to the screen, completely engrossed.

Her hands rested tightly clasped on her lap, knuckles faintly pale. Amanda on the other hand, leaned back with her legs crossed, the epito of disinterest. She balanced a half-empty soda can on her knee and flicked through her phone with her free hand.

"Hey, Mom," Don called out.

Samantha's head whipped around, Amanda's following a second later. Both froze for a split second as they took him in.

Amanda was the first to react. A grin spread across her face, and she let out an impressed whistle. "Wow, soone's looking sharp tonight!" She cocked her head, her grin turning sly. "What's the occasion, huh? Got a date? I knew it wouldn't take long for Mr. Celebrity here to find himself a girl."

Don raised a brow, imdiately denying the claim. "It's not like that."

Samantha, however, frowned slightly, her gaze shifting between Don and Amanda. She straightened her posture, her hands unconsciously smoothing her loose sweats.

Don could practically hear her thoughts. He'd spent enough ti convincing her of his supposed inexperience with relationships, and now Amanda's teasing seed to strike a nerve. Samantha's lips pressed into a tight line, her expression troubled.

Amanda wasn't done though. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and giving Don a mock-serious look. "C'mon, Don. No need to be shy. Is she cute? Is she famous? Both?" She paused for dramatic effect, then added with a cheeky grin, "Don't tell it's Sylvia."

Don crossed his arms, his tone flat. "Are you done?"

Amanda chuckled, leaning back again. "Alright, alright. I'll stop… for now."

Samantha's lips softened into a gentle smile as she tilted her head slightly, taking in Don's appearance. "You look lovely, sweetie," she said warmly. Then, trying her best not to sound nosey, she added, "Who's the beautiful lucky girl?"

Don didn't miss a beat. Slipping his aviators off with a smooth motion, he smiled at her. "I'm looking at her," he replied, winking playfully.

The comnt caught Samantha off guard, and a faint blush crept onto her cheeks. Her smile widened, her gaze softening even further. "Oh, Donnie…" she said quietly, her tone filled with affection.

Amanda couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "He's got his father's charm, alright," she said, grinning. "Sly dog."

Don noticed the subtle shift in Samantha's expression at the ntion of his father. Her eyes darted away montarily, and though her smile didn't fade, sothing in her deanor turned quieter.

Deciding not to linger on the topic, Don moved things along. "Jokes aside, I'm heading to the Battle of the Superhumans with Donald. He said his uncle gave him a family pass."

Samantha's smile returned, warr this ti. Though she wouldn't admit it, hearing those words put her at ease. "Okay, sweetie. Just don't stay out too late," she said, her tone gently reminding. "Even if we're skipping church tomorrow, we've still got family plans in the morning."

Amanda groaned dramatically, slumping further into the couch. "Seriously? Can't we just sleep in for once?"

Don chuckled at Amanda's reaction but nodded at Samantha. "Sure thing, Mom. See you guys later."

With a casual wave, Don turned and walked toward the front door. The faint **click** of the latch sounded as he stepped out into the cool air.

The pink G-Wagon parked near the sidewalk was impossible to miss. Its glossy paint glead under the moonlight, drawing attention like a neon sign in the middle of a forest.

Don walked toward it, hands tucked into his pockets. As he neared the car, his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he saw Tori's na at the top of the screen.

———

Tori: OMG!! Are you serious?! Like serious, serious? Of course I want to co. Hector won't believe this!

———

He smirked, imagining her reaction. It was hard to picture her as overly excited—her usual timid deanor seed to clash with the fiery energy he'd noticed she reserved for her brother. But the ssage made it clear: she was thrilled.

Don quickly typed out a reply.

———

Don: I'm dead serious. Starting off from my place now. Let know where we can pick you guys up.

———

Satisfied, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and reached for the car door handle.

As Don pulled open the G-Wagon's heavy door, a sudden burst of light montarily blinded him. He squinted, his hand instinctively shielding his face as he looked up.

From the driver's seat, Donald grinned, lowering his phone's cara. "There you are, man. Ready to get going?"

Don's eyes adjusted, and his gaze shifted to Donald—and imdiately narrowed in disbelief. "Bro… what the hell are you wearing?"

Donald looked down at himself, then back at Don with a smirk, clearly unfazed.

His outfit was a set of bold choices: a bright red blazer that seed to shimr unnaturally in the light, paired with a deep purple shirt unbuttoned just low enough to show off a gold chain. His pants were black with an unnecessary amount of zippers, and his white sneakers had gold-tipped laces.

Donald casually adjusted the blazer's lapels and raised an eyebrow. "What? You don't like it?"

Don stepped closer, leaning against the open car door. "Let's see… where do I start?" he said, mock-thoughtful. "You look like you just robbed a magician and decided to wear the loot. Or like a walking billboard for poor life choices."

Donald, who understood Don was joking, leaned back in his seat. "C'mon, man. You're just jealous you can't pull this off."

"Pull it off? Dude, you look like a Vegas lounge singer who got lost on his way to a performance."

Donald grinned, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Alright, alright. Hop in, man. We've got a show to catch."

With a small chuckle, Don climbed into the passenger seat, the door shutting with a solid **thunk**.

As Donald started the engine, Don settled in.