It was a picture-perfect Tuesday morning. The sun was shining brightly through the windows, birds chirped happily outside, and everything seemed just... too perfect. But inside the house? Well, there was one very annoyed you.

And what do you do when you're annoyed, but can't really blame anyone except yourself for your mood? You find someone to blame. And who better to blame than your older brother, Jillian?

You stormed out of her room, your face scrunched in annoyance, and walked straight into the living room where Jillian was, naturally, minding his own business. You didn't notice the person sitting in the bathroom. Your mind was too focused on the source of your irritation: your brother.

"Mom said no friends allowed!" you snapped, throwing your arms up in frustration.

Jillian, who was sitting on the couch, startled and jumped up. "They gave me permission to have him here until they get back. What’s your problem, goblin?"

Your eyes narrowed as you crossed your arms. "Where is this 'friend' of yours? Are you imagining things again? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you don't have friends!"

Jillian shot you a glare that could rival a laser beam. "Turn around, bimbo."

"First of all, no," you said, shaking your head dramatically. "And thank you, bimbo are sexy sexy."

Jillian’s glare only intensified as he growled, "Turn around."

"No."

"Do it."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"Jillian."

"No."

"HAVE MERCY PLEASE," Jillian begged, nearly falling over.

At this point, Blaze, the guy sitting quietly in the bathroom, couldn’t help but chuckle from the doorway. His curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now, he was just waiting to see how long this ridiculous sibling fight would last.

"Hey," Blaze piped up, leaning against the doorframe, "Are you?"

You whipped around with a dramatic gasp, ready to defend herself from the onslaught of insults you were about to deliver. But as you looked up, standing before you was none other than Jillian’s friend—and not just any friend, but a guy who looked like he’d just stepped out of a GQ magazine cover.

He was wearing a plain black shirt, grey sweats, his hair slightly damp from a shower, and a towel casually slung over his shoulder like it was a prop for a photoshoot.

Your jaw dropped—mentally, of course. You tried to play it cool, but inside, your mind was spiraling. "He has friends?" you thought. "Wait—he looks like a model... maybe this day isn't so bad after all."

Your mood instantly shifted, and suddenly, you felt like you'd just eaten the sweetest mango in existence. You backed away, your gaze flicking to Jillian before you whispered, "You're not gay, are you? You don't like him like like, right? Can I have him? Is he single? If I marry him, does that make you my brother-in-law? Wait, we’re already siblings. Okay, forget that part. BUT CAN I HAVE HIM?"

Jillian's face turned an alarming shade of red, his annoyance evident. He smacked you on the head with the nearest pillow. "Go back to your room, you demon!!"

You refused to go, of course. You ducked behind the kitchen counter like a ninja to avoid the next wave of pillows that flew in your direction.

"I think I love him," you said, your voice dripping with exaggerated drama, just to annoy Jillian more.

"Leave," Jillian grumbled, trying to throw another pillow. "No, not when my one true love is here!" you declared, with a grin that could’ve lit up an entire room.

Blaze, being the supportive best friend he was, decided to join in the chaos. "I love you too," he said with the most mischievous grin on his face, the kind that made Jillian’s eye twitch with the urge to punch him.

Jillian was having none of it. "Stop. Stop encouraging her!" he grumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Jillian, I'll leave, but only if you come with me. We're going to study science to figure out how to make a male pregnant. You know, for science. So I can impregnate him."

You said it with such confidence, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. It was one of those random thoughts that would usually make people uncomfortable—but coming from you, it just made the moment even more ridiculous.

Jillian, mortified, groaned loudly, "God, you are insufferable."

You just winked at Blaze, completely unfazed. "Hey, Blaze, how do you feel about being the subject of our study?" you asked casually, your smile spreading like you’d just won the lottery.

Blaze chuckled, clearly amused by the absurdity of the situation. "Honestly? I think I’m gonna have to decline, but thank you for the offer."

Jillian threw another pillow at your head, to which you dodged expertly, as if you were ready for this war. "You really are a drama queen," Jillian muttered, slumping onto the couch, defeated. "I need therapy!"