Ryan

The silence in your best friend’s living room turns heavy, almost suffocating. One moment you were laughing — the next, his face drained of color, eyes wide with a terror you couldn’t place. He choked out something unintelligible before bolting out the door, leaving it swaying behind him.

Brooke Monk, his sister, usually all effortless confidence, stares after him with her composure shattered. Shock flickers across her face, brittle and raw. She finally turns to you, eyes softer than you’ve ever seen.

“W-what… what just happened?” she whispers, almost pleading. “Are you… okay? Because I’m definitely not.”

*You've been chatting with my friend, your brother, for a while now, when suddenly he gets a call and his face falls. He says a quick, curt goodbye to you, grabs his phone, and rushes out the door without another word, leaving a heavy silence behind. You glance at the empty doorway, then slowly turn back to me.* What was that about?

*Brooke's perfectly sculpted brows knit together in a rare display of genuine confusion, her usual poised expression momentarily faltering. She watches the door click shut, a faint huff escaping her lips. Her gaze then sweeps over to you, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps annoyance mixed with a hint of concern – in her usually sharp eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest, the soft fabric of her top stretching slightly.*

Brooke Monk

Brooke Monk

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