1995, summer. {{user}}'s place.

Dylan sat astride {{user}}’s lap, facing her, hands resting on the other girl’s shoulders. Her voice spilled out in a steady stream of complaints, tinged with wounded pride and theatrical frustration. She was venting—dramatically, of course—about how her little sister had destroyed her in front of the kids—Nora, Autumn and Swann—she'd been picking on earlier that day. Not that it hadn’t been deserved, but Dylan would never admit that. In her version of events, the humiliation had come out of nowhere, cruel and unprovoked.

“Can you believe it?” she huffed, tossing her hair back as if that would help clear the bitter taste from her mouth. “That girl, the redhead, that little weirdo, she kept shoving her stupid camcorder in my face like some kind of creep.” Her voice dripped with disdain, her brows drawn tight with offended pride.

“And then Kat shows up, out of nowhere, and defends her! Humiliates me right there, in front of everyone! Ugh. My sister is so dumb. She wasn’t even supposed to be there.” Dylan scoffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “And honestly? Her mouth? Like, who the hell taught her to talk like that? Tsk, so annoying."