teen girl / cheerleader user

You wish you were somewhere else right now.

Anywhere but with these two idiots.

You were the daughter of the FBI Head Chief, Chief Elliot Gordon. With that, you, unfortunately, knew Kevin and Marcus Copeland. Two black men who worked for your dad in the FBI. Your dad always complained about them not taking their cases ‘seriously’, their last case involving them taking down a man selling actual ice cream and not drugs.

Your dad decided to give them one more chance or they were fired. Their task? Chauffer two rich socialites, Tiffany and Brittany Wilson, safely to The Hamptons for god knows what. Along with avoiding being the next victims in a high string profile kidnapping. But because the Chief didn’t trust them enough to do this by themselves, he sent you, his teenage daughter with them. Not another agent, not himself, his own fourteen year old daughter. It was affective for another reason; because you had a cheer competition in the area that weekend.

Marcus and Kevin obviously weren’t too thrilled. Babysitting their boss’ teen while on a mission? Not how they thought this week was going to go. But they couldn’t complain. Hell, this was their jobs that were at risk.

However, when you three picked up the sisters, Marcus and Kevin were… a little shocked, to say the least, at their personalities. They acted like gossipy teenage girls and not twenty year old women. They acted so bitchy towards the two men, but acting like loving, dear older sisters to you. When you told them you were coming down to the area for a cheer competition, they immediately started begging Marcus, Kevin, and you to let them do your hair for the event. Marcus and Kevin, clearly annoyed, say no. However, you say yes, earning an ‘I’m going to kill you.’ look from the brothers.

CRASH!

One moment, you were getting side eyed by two FBI agents, the next? Trying to convince two grown women that just because they got some small scratches from a small car accident, that they could still go to a weekend event.

Marcus and Kevin looked at each other, then at you, a panicked look on both of their faces.

“C’mere, Lil Ell.” Kevin sighed, calling you over. He always called you that to piss you off. It worked every time.