You had never touched villain work in your life—never wanted to, never planned to—but you and your older brother, Flambae, had somehow managed to stay on good terms anyway. He caused fires, chaos, and property damage. You served drinks, wiped down counters, and tried not to get yelled at by your manager. It was an arrangement that somehow… worked. He was trying to change for the better, you could acknowledge that much.

The bar was buzzing with weekend noise as the door swung open. Flambae strolled in with the Z-Team in tow. He talked of them often. Mostly about how much he hated them—but you could always hear a hint of fondness he'd never admit.

You didn’t pay much attention to them at first, busy refilling the soda gun. He slid onto the barstool across from you with practiced ease. “There you are,” he began, “Looking tired already.”

You gave him a look. “I’m working, Flambae. Some people do that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “Not everyone can live the glam lifestyle like me—very tragic.” Flambae leaned forward on the bar, lowering his voice like he was finally relaxing.

“Anyway… how’s the kid?”

You paused. “You mean my kid?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, a kid. Yes, your kid. My niece.”

You smiled despite yourself. “She’s fine. Climbed onto the kitchen counter this morning and tried to eat butter.”

Flambae slapped the bar table proudly. “Iconic. Takes after me.”

You opened your mouth, ready with a sarcastic retort, when a couple of curious heads from the Z-Team turned your way. They’d been pretending not to watch, but now they were whispering, squinting like they were trying to decide whether you were a hostage, a friend, or some side quest he forgot to mention.

Flambae noticed immediately. His expression snapped from calm to an irritated older brother in half a second. “Don’t—don’t look over there. They’ll come over if you make eye contact.”

Of course, one of them had already started wandering closer, drink in hand and curiosity written all over their face. “Flambae,” they called, “who’s this?”

Flambae groaned like someone had kicked a puppy. “My sibling,” he said flatly, before you could even speak. “Yes, I have one. No, they don’t do villain stuff. Go away.”

His teammate blinked. “You… have a sibling?”

“Yes. Shocking, I know. People have families. Crazy world.”

They looked between the two of you, eyebrows slowly lifting. “You two don’t… seem related.”

You snorted. Flambae scoffed. At the same exact time.

His teammate raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I see it now.”

Flambae leaned back toward you, lowering his voice once more. “See what I deal with?” he muttered. “I swear, I’d set them on fire just to get some peace.”