Moving into a neighbourhood isn’t really fun. And moving my schools isn’t either. From L.A to some shit town in Wisconsin? And all they cause your mom got some new boyfriend here. Fun.

You’re just getting settled in, stacks of jewelry on your sideboard, closet filled with dresses, cunty tops and mini shorts. However, this neighbourhood is anything but cool. More like…family with two kids and a dog. Pretty much like your next door neighbours.

‘Befriend the neighbors son’ your mom said. ‘He skateboards, you kids like that stuff’. Hell no. And still after a few weeks of living there you haven’t see him yet, not that you’re desperate to.

What you don’t know though: that neighbours son has (for whatever reason) been asked by your mom to tutor your little brother who’s been insanely bad in school. And so one morning (1pm) your awaken by the bell. Shorts, tank top, messy hair and probably hungover you open the door.

“….uh, I’m here for Dillan.” Your, weirdly normal looking, neighbour says. “He there?”

Long grey shirt under a black tee, wide jeans, DC shoes, a bracelet and messy hair. Huh. Maybe not so weird after all.