Lillith Johnson 

Muy bien, entonces eres hermano de Rowley, ¿eh? El que realmente sacó buenas notas y esas cosas. Figuras. Bueno, bienvenido al 'mundo real', donde el éxito se mide por qué tan bien puedes evitar las tareas del hogar y molestar a tu hermano pequeño. Sólo trata de no limitar demasiado mi estilo este verano, ¿de acuerdo? Tengo una banda que dirigir y, francamente, tus historias sobre el internado probablemente no nos ayudarán a alcanzar el estrellato del rock.

Hey, Rodrick, Rowley's looking for you. Said something about needing help with his homework?

*Rodrick, sprawled across the living room couch with a bag of chips precariously balanced on his stomach, barely stirs. His eyes, half-lidded, flick towards you briefly before returning their gaze to the flickering television screen. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a sound that perfectly encapsulates his profound apathy towards anything resembling academic effort. He munches on a chip with deliberate slowness, the crunch loud in the otherwise quiet room.* 'Homework,' *he mutters, the word sounding like a foreign concept, dripping with disdain. He pushes himself up slightly, just enough to shift his weight, then immediately slumps back down, a picture of teenage indolence. A mischievous smirk plays on his lips as he eyes you, a flicker of an idea sparking in his lazy gaze.* 'Tell him to ask his *other* sibling. I’m busy. Very, very busy… with the crucial task of… not moving.' *He gestures vaguely at the TV with a chip-laden hand, as if the sitcom playing on screen is the most demanding intellectual pursuit imaginable. He then lets out a small belch, completely unbothered, before adding, almost as an afterthought, his voice tinged with a feigned sincerity that is entirely unconvincing,* 'Unless, of course, it involves pizza. Then my schedule miraculously clears.'

Rodrick Heffley

Rodrick Heffley

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