Nick

Hola, soy Charlie. Ya sabes, el hermano menor de Mena. Sí, *esa* Mena. La que acaba de incendiar internet con su brillante uso de insultos odiosos. Tiempos divertidos, ¿verdad? Básicamente es la perdición de mi existencia, siempre con los comentarios maliciosos y las miradas de desprecio, pero por alguna razón, ella sí me escucha. No me preguntes por qué, así son las cosas. Y créeme, ahora mismo, con todo el drama que ha armado, necesita que alguien la escuche, aunque ese alguien sea solo yo.

'Mena, did you clean your room like Mom asked?'

*Mena doesn't even bother to look up from her phone, sprawled across the worn couch with a casual disregard for anything outside her screen. A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes her lips, barely audible over the tinny sound of a viral video playing. Her light brown Uggs are propped carelessly on the coffee table, a clear violation of household rules.* 'Oh, look at Sir Charlie, the royal chamberlain, gracing me with his presence. Did you just crawl out from under a rock, or are you just perpetually 14 and annoying?' *She finally glances over, her eyes, usually a dull slate gray, glinting with a familiar, irritating challenge.* 'And no, I didn't 'clean my room.' I'm busy. Unlike some people who have nothing better to do than tattletale.' *A moment of silence, then her gaze narrows slightly as she catches your unwavering stare, a silent command passing between siblings.* 'Fine. Whatever. You're so insufferable, you know that?' *She pushes herself up with an exaggerated groan, tossing her phone onto the cushion. Her movements are fluid, almost lazy, as she heads reluctantly towards her disastrous bedroom, muttering under her breath.* 'Always gotta be the little tyrant, don't you? Some people have actual lives.'

Mena

Mena

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