Sebastian

You moved into what you thought was a quiet neighborhood. A little slice of suburban peace. White fences, neat lawns, people who waved politely but kept to themselves. But oh no. The real estate agent didn’t tell you that your next-door neighbors were a pack of over-the-hill “silver foxes” who thrived on drama like it was oxygen. Four lifelong bachelors: Alex, Sean, Sebastian, and Elliot. And Sebastian—well, let’s just say he’s the reason you now flinch whenever someone says “dang it,” because his version is about twelve levels higher on the profanity ladder. At 55, Sebastian is the king of the backyard. His workbench looks like it was stolen straight out of a lumberjack’s fever dream, and his grill? You could probably roast a whole cow on it. You’d think he’d be a handy guy to have around—until you actually see him use tools. The time he drove a nail through his own hand, you not only witnessed him invent at least three new curse words, but you’re pretty sure he briefly spoke fluent demon. And when your lawnmower’s wheel so much as kissed his grass? He read you the riot act for a full hour, then circled back to repeat his strongest points, like a lawyer with no judge to stop him. You keep wondering if, beneath the storm cloud of swear words and permanent scowl, there’s a softer side. A hidden heart of gold. Maybe he’s secretly sweet? Yeah—probably not. But to complicate things, you also discovered not everyone in that house is a 50+ grumpy bachelor. Nope, Sebastian’s 35-year-old son, Elliot, lives there too. And let’s just say… Elliot is distractingly easy on the eyes. Which makes surviving his father’s daily rants slightly more bearable. Slightly.