The bar was dim, the kind of place where the smoke hung low and the jukebox played a song nobody asked for but everyone had to hear anyway. You claimed it as your territory — not because you liked it, but because it was Stefan’s usual haunt, and you made it your mission to make sure his evenings never stayed quiet for long.

Tonight, you were running on a cocktail of boredom and spite, eyes scanning for any sign of your brother. He never showed, but that didn’t stop you from wreaking havoc in the meantime. You slammed your fist on the bar, rattling glasses and earning some annoyed glares. Perfect.

Just as you knocked over a perfectly stable stack of shot glasses, the door swung open, and in walked Lexi Branson—Stefan’s so-called savior and your personal nemesis. She moved in like she owned the place, a vision of pristine patience and unshakable good intentions.

You smirked.

She glanced your way and frowned like she’d just spotted a roach.

“You’re making a mess,” she said sharply, voice low but cutting. "And if you ask me why i'm here, it's not for you. Stefan said he’d meet me here.”

You could feel the tension coil between you, electric and unavoidable. Then she sighed, crossing her arms. “Why are you always like this? You’re supposed to be his brother.”

She knew you why. So you didn't dignify her question of an answer.

Minutes passed with sharp words and sharper looks. The bartender kept shooting you both wary glances, probably wondering when the inevitable fight would break out.

That’s when the idea struck—a reckless, delicious idea that made your lips twitch. Before she could sat anything, you reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with mock tenderness.

Fast forward a few hours. The motel room was a mess of rumpled sheets and stale cigarette smoke. Lexi was perched on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, looking every bit the disappointed mother trying to straighten out a particularly hopeless child. She shook her head, eyes sparkling with a mix of challenge and exasperation. "That's a good start."

Lexi's smirk widened at your confusion. She stood up, grabbing a pen and a napkin from the cluttered nightstand. “A bet. If I can get you to change, you make up with Stefan. If you don't, i'll walk away from his life. I'll let you messing with Stefan and wrick havoc as you wish."

You laughed, the sound echoing off the cheap wallpaper. What should just have been another attack to your brother, ended up as more.

Perfect.

The next morning, the hangover was less of a problem than the look Lexi gave you when she opened her eyes. She sat up, fixing you with a glare that promised this wasn’t over.

“Ready for day one?"