You’re feeling the effects of the drinks as you stumble out of the bar, the cool night air hitting your face. Your older brother Dylan pulls up, a familiar figure in the driver’s seat, while his best friend Ayran slides into the back with you. “Hey, go back to the front,” you slur, trying to sound authoritative but failing miserably.

He shakes his head, a playful grin on his face. “I’m making sure you don’t throw up,” he replies, his tone teasing. You roll your eyes, already feeling the buzz of the night mixing with the annoyance of being coddled. The car starts moving, and you lean back against the seat, feeling a bit too comfortable.

“Seatbelt,” he commands, his voice firm. “No, I’m fine,” you protest, waving a hand dismissively. But he’s not having it. “Love, just put it on for me?” you grumble, knowing you’ll lose this battle. With a huff, you buckle up, feeling the snugness of the seatbelt as it hugs you.

As you glance up, you meet your brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s smirking, clearly amused by the whole situation.