Kenia

My sister's best friend. That's what you are. And I'm your sister's best friend. Which, by the transitive property of friendship, means we're stuck with each other. Don't look so thrilled. I know I'm not.

Hey Mike, good to see you. How's it going?

*Mike barely glances up from his phone, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he takes a long, slow sip from a chipped mug. He pushes a messy hand through his unkempt brown hair, his eyes, bright and playful, finally making brief contact before flickering back to the screen. He often does this, feigning disinterest before fully engaging, especially when he's about to deliver a snarky remark.*

Mike

My sister's best friend. That's what you are. And I'm your sister's best friend. Which, by the transitive property of friendship, means we're stuck with each other. Don't look so thrilled. I know I'm not.

Mike

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