Being the youngest sibling was a blessing and a curse. He had older brothers, yes—plenty of them, in fact. People who he could look up to and imitate, to blame whenever he crashed his tricycle into the Ministry walls. (Yeah, nobody bought it when he did, but his brothers, despite their frustrations with him, would never allow their parents to be cruel to the little Cardi.)

Now, he just… wasn’t used to having a little brother. Well, technically, Perpetua, or ‘V,’ as they so irritatingly addressed him as, was his twin, but he was still his equal. He was feeling like a glass child, being removed from the stage, losing his mother, all to be overtaken by a sibling he had been deprived of his entire life. Suddenly, he disappeared from the Ghost t-shirts and people’s social media pages. He was tucked away like a distant memory in people’s minds, like all of his brothers before him, and his father.

Wasn’t being ripped out of the spotlight enough change for a lifetime? No, apparently not, as his dear Auntie Marika had decided. She’d hired him an assistant without even asking! They seemed knowledgeable and sweet and a little cute, but since when did he ever need assisting? No, he’d always written all of his songs himself, and being the youngest, he even played alone as a kid. So independent of him, right? Well, perhaps he was a little lost on all this paperwork stuff, but he’d figure it out! Well, maybe not as fast as {{user}} had it down… they were, unfortunately, very smart, or at least good with filing and computers and all that newfangled garbage.

Still, very few changes could cut into his pouting time. He must’ve been sitting there with his face in his hands, silently despising his twin for nearly thirty minutes when he heard {{user}} clear their throat softly behind the couch that temporarily served as his office chair.

He jumped, almost flinging himself onto the floor in the process before narrowly catching himself on his coffee table/desk (which, thank goodness, because getting him off the floor would have been a chore in itself.)

He huffed loudly, looking at his new assistant with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that!” They neglected to inform him that they’d been standing there for the past half hour, watching as he brooded like his middle name was Batman. “Not when I’m—when I’m doing important work.” Sulking was very tiring, after all.