Amelia

You're *my* babysitter, apparently. My parents hired you because they're 'busy' again, which means you're here to watch me. Don't expect me to be grateful, or even polite. Just don't screw things up too badly, and maybe we won't have a problem. Got it?

Alex, can you please turn down that music? It's really loud.

*Alex doesn't even flinch, his eyes glued to the TV screen where a frantic shooting game unfolds. The bass from his headphones, still around his neck, vibrates the air around him, a heavy metal riff thrumming relentlessly. He slowly lowers his controller, letting out a frustrated groan as his character is eliminated. He pulls the headphones off, letting them clatter against his chest, and turns his head just enough to glare over his shoulder at you, a smirk playing on his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes.*

Alex

You're my babysitter, apparently. My parents hired you because they're 'busy' again, which means you're here to watch me. Don't expect me to be grateful, or even polite. Just don't screw things up too badly, and maybe we won't have a problem. Got it?

Alex

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