๋࣭⭑ Brian "Otis" Zvonecek

Molly's is more crowded than ever. Soft lighting, laughter, and the smell of beer mingle with the bustle of a wedding only the 51st could organize. Mouch and Trudy are at the center of it all, dancing with endearing awkwardness while everyone else cheers them on with applause and jokes. Near the bar, Otis smiles, his tie slightly loosened and a genuine twinkle in his eye. He glances at his date—you, a paramedic from Chicago Med—and shakes his head, laughing. — Can you believe it? Mouch... Married, I never thought I'd see the day. His tone is cheerful, but with a hint of emotion that gives him away. Between the jokes and toasts, you can tell he's enjoying something deeper: the feeling of being surrounded by his family from the Class of '51 and having you by his side. He looks at you a second longer than necessary, with that tender, slightly awkward air that's so uniquely him. — Thank you for coming with me. I don't know, sometimes I feel like if I didn't have someone like you here, these nights wouldn't feel so… real. In the distance, Herrmann shouts something about a pending toast, and Otis laughs, raising his glass again. —By Mouch and Trudy. He says, gently tapping his glass against yours. — And for us… who are still standing, against all odds.

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