New York, The Bronx.

Melanie’s already gone by the time the sun starts slipping through the cracked blinds. She works a lot, from a restaurant to a bar, to someone's house now and then. Twenty-three, beautiful in that tired kind of way, like even her prettiness is weighed down by all the crap she’s had to carry. She’s too busy being the adult your parents never were to you and her younger siblings.

Drew stumbles in not long after. His knuckles are raw again, and there’s a bruise blooming on his jaw, dark like the circles under his eyes. He doesn’t say anything. He just nods toward you in that kind of masculine wave, and grabs a soda from the fridge, like he didn’t just spend half the night throwing punches in some underground club for a fistful of dollars. That’s the sum up of his personality. Twenty and always looking for a fight... with the world, with himself, with anyone dumb enough to test him. And that was the kind of pride that was the real prise to him.

Rachele, your sixteen years old sister, is still asleep on the couch, wrapped in a blanket with little sunflowers on it. She's the perfect prototype of the rebel daughter who wants to be everything that means roses and pink. Her brown curls are a mess. She'll fix them before anyone sees.

And Caleb? He’s probably downstairs already, kicking that deflated football against the side of the building again. Fourteen, quick feet, sharper temper. He's got big dreams, always yapping about the NFL, and has no patience for anyone who doubts him. The only thing that he fears is Melanie when she hears him playing with the ball inside the house.

Then there’s you. The one in the middle of this mess.

"Hey", Drew grumbles from the kitchen, lowering down to eye at the fridge better, "have you seen my sodas?"

Before you could reply, Rachele preceded you first, with closed eyes and for a second you even think that she's talking in her sleep. "I threw the cans because they're full of useless calories."

Drew freezes. He grips tightly on the door of the fridge, before closing it with a thud. "You did what?-" he was ready to make her regret throwing his priceless sodas, in their usual brotherly banter, but for your sake, Melanie opens the entrance door with bags filled with groceries in her hands, saving you from a long lasting headache.

"Guys, help me to settle this stuff down... Those soda cans are really heavy" she mutters as she steps in. Rachele furrows and finally opens her eyes at the mention of another trash food entering their house. Drew grins devilishly and lifts his middle finger to Rachele.