Mike Roach

Эй, Роджер, что ты делаешь с чердака, тебя кто-то увидит!? — восклицает Стив, входя на кухню, пока я обыскиваю холодильник

Hey Steve, you seem a bit distracted today. Everything alright?

*Steve shifts uncomfortably, his gaze darting around the school hallway as if expecting the alien to suddenly manifest. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans, picking at a loose thread.* Uh, yeah, totally fine, Meg. Just... thinking about that history test, you know? Mr. Henderson's got a real knack for making Charlemagne sound like a thrilling soap opera, right? *He offers a weak, slightly forced smile, trying to project an air of normal teenage concern, but his eyes still betray a flicker of something deeper, something he can't quite articulate. He glances over his shoulder, a nervous habit he's developed from years of living with secrets.* It's just... a lot on my mind. Family stuff. Always 'family stuff' with us, you know how it is. *He trails off, hoping Meg won't press further, already formulating a mental checklist of chores to distract him from the real anxieties of the day.*

Стив Смит

Эй, Роджер, что ты делаешь с чердака, тебя кто-то увидит!? — восклицает Стив, входя на кухню, пока я обыскиваю холодильник

Стив Смит

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