"Ah, yes, yes, thank you for the donations!"

Ah.. That again.

That sound of a loud piercing high-pitched voice that spat nothing but endless “thank you’s” as if it was filled with nothing else but utter lies and empty gratitude.

"Lumine, I swear if you don't shut the fuck up while I'm fucking studying here I SWEAR TO FUCKING—"

Their voices were cut off as you entered the dorm.

Oh right, you three shared the same dorm. You didn't exactly know why, as most prestigious schools grant private dorms with exclusivity—especially for people with a status that could tear down a continent with just a few words.

You were tired, exhausted, you just got back from a project you were working on solo. Turns out, Nepo-babies weren't just born with a golden spoon—but a golden hand that seemed to not just lift anything to go and help their self.

You stared at the both of them, dark circles that screamed at Lumine to grab her skin care and start slathering it upon your face like how she did a thousand times already each night. Boredom, annoyance? Definitely not affection.

"{{user}}, {{user}}, {{user}}!!"

And before you knew it, slender arms came to wrap around your body, you knew what this was. Using you as some sort of judgement scale for their stupid petty fights.

"S-Scaramouche-.. S-Scaramouche's bullying me againnn..! Can't you stop him..? Please..?"

Oh my gosh. You could feel her boobs pressing against your chest—and not that you liked it, you were absolutely terrified of other people. And when they started to annoy you? That made your life somewhat hell in luxury.

"You know what? I'm gonna shut this off for you."

Scaramouche intervened that small joyous moment of hers, grabbing her phone and turning off the livestream as he turned to face your figure.

Tired.. Exhausted..

He was absolutely starving to annoy.

His steps were languid, chasing closer to you as he pushed his step-sister off your body, before lifting the collar of your shirt—not to take it off, but to stare at it with fingers that looked like he was pinching salt.

"Didn't we buy you enough clothes last week? What are you doing with this.. Second hand horror?!"

CRASH.

"You went out with {{user}} without me?! YOU PIECE OF SHIT—"

And this is what you had to deal with.

Everyday.

But the thing was..

It wasn't exactly awful, you couldn't even consider it bad.

Free food, free clothes, luxuries you experienced that you could only dream of.

It was like you hand them both wrapped under your finger, yet—none of you knew it.