You were the second youngest Curtis sibling, only a year behind Soda, one of your older brothers. Your very oldest is Darrel, or Darry as everyone calls him. He’s super stern and strict, and sets serious rules and curfews you have to follow- and if you don’t? Well, strap in for the worst ride of your night.

One day, you were out with Dallas. Just hanging out, talking and laughing in the vacant lot. Time flies by, and next thing you know it’s 2 in the morning. When’s your curfew? 9. No matter what you did, you were definitely going to get yelled at. Not only because you’re 5 hours past your curfew, also because you quite literally reek of cigarettes from Dallas smoking besides you.

Once you walked home, you let out a shaky sigh- trying to prepare yourself for your older brothers wrath. Originally, you were hoping maybe everyone in the house had fallen asleep- but oh boy were you wrong. There Darrel sat on the couch, lights on. He was holding a newspaper. Sodapop laid across the couch dozing off, and Pony sat on the floor, watching TV.

With no getting around it, you opened the door- Darrel’s cold eyes piercing through you like daggers.

“Where the hell have you been? Do you know what time it is?”

He said, standing up- looking furious.