Chapter Text
Michael was not a social person.
Sure, he could pretend to be amused at his asshole friends' crappy conversations that were usually filled with swear words, bad taste for chicks, and questionable life decisions; but it did not meant he enjoyed it.
Damn, it even didn't meant he liked hanging out with those excuses of human beings. Michael was only interested in the bullying bit: although it never lasted long enough for him to actually bury in the delight of doing it just for the sake of it.
And, sure, he could pretend to behave and incarnate the perfect son his father would've wanted him to be at family reunions,
But, again, that did not meant he enjoyed it.
So, following this strict narrative, (the only one he would abide because it was the only one implemented by himself) most of Michael's weekends would consist in smoking out of town, scaring the shit out of kids in his father's pizzeria, and isolating in his room while blasting rock in his speakers.
But this particular day was the one that would end all of that, once and for all.
That certain Saturday, Mike was busy drawing disgustingly creepy caricatures of everyone he knew —his teachers, his friends, his father,— sometimes he would even draw the animatronics as terrifyingly as he wished they would, just in case someone would check his sketchbook and they'll make him appear edgy.
He blasted ACDC's 'Back In Black' album so loud in his headphones anyone within five meters could hear, while he chuckled at the graphite he laid down in the page.
It was disgusting, he had to admit, but it was a fun way (Whatever his definition of fun was) to get revenge by making fun of others. Of course he still found it coward to only do so when he was alone.
A loud noise then interrupted his routine. He ignored it, and amusement filled his mind at the thought that it may not be the first knock on his door.
The pounding continued, aggressive and chaotic, against his scratched and worn door. He sighed. He only knew one person who would be this insistent.
"Mikey! Open up! I know you're there!"
A child and femenine-like voice came out distorted through his headphones, the message blurry and uncertain, but he instantly understood who was barging so annoyingly on the other side of the door.
"Get lost, Liz." Michael said, high enough to make his statement clear. That'll shut her up.
"C'mon Mikeyyyyy!" Elizabeth expressed in an attempt to provoke some kind of pity out of his brother. At seeing this demeanor fail, she spitted out:
"Get out this instant, Michael." She tried to imitate her father's characteristic cold tone, but it lacked maturity. Still no answer. She became more desperate.
"If you don't open up I'm telling mom about that weird magazine I found—!"
The door instantly and rapidly flattered open, reaveling an annoyed and infuriating Michael gripping the handle in a nervous and angry demeanor.
"What magazine."
The ginger girl smiled at seeing her effort finally paid up. She had accomplished her mission. Now came the hard part.
"The one with the abs guy in the—!"
Before her sister could spill any of Mike's secrets like fresh baked bread, he shut her up with his hand and dragged her into his room.
He waited for some time to pass before actually speaking, like tasting the waters and expecting a loud scream on their mother's behalf. His expectations were met with silence. He felt himself allowing to breath again.
"Alright, what do you want?" Michael softly gripped the little girl's shoulders. Who knows what kind of atrocities Elizabeth would say if he gripped slightly harder.
"Mom said she's too tired to take me to Suzie's party. She said to ask you."
And that's when her fake innocence came back. And Michael knew it too damn well.
He sighed, pinching his nose while he hardly closed his eyes, thinking he'll have to go to Freddy's in the only day he gets to rest from his father's crap.
He cringed at the universal fact that Elizabeth remained filled with child-like excitement and a pout she definitely knew didn't work on Michael.
"Please, Mikey. I don't ever get to go to Freddy's!"
"That's a lie. You went to Freddy's last week."
Michael crossed his arms, and the innocent child became not-so-innocent after all. The child contained her bothers form materializing.
"Well— even if I did, I still don't get to get out of the house often!" Elizabeth whined.
"And the week before that."
"But—!"
"And the week before that one."
"Oh, c'mon!" Elizabeth dropped the act as soon and as subtle as she had established it. Her frustrated clenched fists portrayed this in a way no tantrum could.
"Can't you just go by yourself?"
"Are you seriously making me walk all that?" Her tone was disappointed and incredulous, but Michael didn't seem to care about his sisters intentions. Her unconformity just grew stronger at noticing his brother's silence.
"Get out of my room, Liz."
She groaned, violently grabbing her hair in the process and making her way out the door.
The silence invaded the siblings. Elizabeth caressed the edges of the worn door. Michael gulped. It was the quiet before the storm.
"Don't you dare."
The girl slowly turned her head only to let Michael see how her grin expanded across his face. And then, in a last attempt:
"Mom! Look what I found—!"
Michael practically pounced on the little girl with an almost inhuman speed that he only used when something didn't suit him.
"You brat!"
As they both struggled and dueled with each other, the older brother's superior strength was evident over his sister's. At seeing this obvious advantage, Michael embraced his arms around the little girl's torso, as they grunted.
Elizabeth, clearly indignated, began throwing desperate kicks to free herself from her brother's cold claws. Mike's face received one or two of these rage hits.
"Take me! Take me or I'll tell her!"
"ALRIGHT!" Mike said. Then he slowly let go of his sister's magenta shirt, still unsure if he had made the right decision.
But he couldn't allow his mother even glancing at the magazine. He wouldn't know what horrors would came right after.
"Alright."
Michael extended his palms in a sign of peace, while remaining kneeling next to his little sister.
Elizabeth responded with a grunt, and immediately fixed her most precious possession, her bright red bow.
Her expression soon changed at seeing what she had accomplished. It had been hard, but it was worth it. After all, Mikey always gave in when it came to bribes.
"Fine. I'll tell you when I'm ready." The girl smiled widely, still with her clothes a little messy and her skirt completely made like a kitchen rag. She happily made her way out the room.
The teen had to wait a few seconds to process all that had happened on such short notice. He sighed. He cursed.
The next few hours were going to be hell.