The fifth day arrived quietly, too quietly. Denver sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket like a paranoid burrito, staring at the front door as if Zen Clan assassins would kick it down at any moment.
"It's been five days. No kidnappings, no secret agents no mysterious glowing eyed women in suits, am I finally safe…?"
Her phone vibrated then she froze and slowly, she picked it up like it was a bomb.
[Group Chat: The Boys]
Dirk: Yo Denver, it's been forever let's hang out.
Allan: Yeah, loser just disappeared sus.
Noah: Statistically, friendships deteriorate if physical meetings drop below. once every two weeks
Dirk: Nerd translation: Come outside.
Denver stared at the screen.
"Ah... the real danger has arrived."
She typed.
Denver: Can we do it next time? I'm quite busy.
Dirk: Busy doing what?
Denver: …Busy existing.
Allan: That's not an excuse.
Noah: Logical inconsistency detected.
She typed again.
Denver: Family stuff.
Dirk: Cool, we'll come over.
Allan: Let us join.
Noah: Field research opportunity.
Her soul left her body then she immediately sprinted upstairs and burst into Dion's room.
"WE HAVE A PROBLEM!"
Dion, who was peacefully gaming, screamed and almost threw his controller. "WHAT?! is it the Zen Clan again?!"
"Worse!"
"…Worse than Zen Clan?"
"My friends are coming!"
He stared at her then slowly whispered, "Oh were cooked."
Three figures stood in front of the house like a boss party. Noah adjusted his glasses, his backpack stuffed with random gadgets and notebooks.
Dirk leaned against the fence, arms crossed, looking cool while chewing bubble gum like he was in a shounen anime.
Allan stood with his hood up, hands in his pockets, giving off "I might be in a gang or I might just like black hoodies" energy.
"These are the coordinates," Noah said. "Denver's house."
Dirk grinned. "Time to drag that hermit outside."
Allan knocked on the door.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
Dion opened the door.
"…Sup."
They stared at him.
"Oh, it's the little brother," Dirk said. "Where's Denver?"
Dion thought for exactly 0.2 seconds and panicked.
"He's… uh… not home."
Allan narrowed his eyes. "You lying?"
Before Dion could respond...
RING RING
Denver's phone rang inside the house, Noah's eyes sparkled. "Auditory confirmation suggests deception."
Dirk pushed the door open. "We're coming in."
"WAIT!"
Too late, they already walked in and instead of Denver…
A girl walked down the stairs in oversized pajamas, loose pink shirt, messy raven hair, sleepy eyes.
She froze, they froze, the universe froze, Allan dropped his sunglasses, Dirk stopped chewing gum, and Noah began calculating alternate timelines.
Dion reacted instantly, grabbing Denver's shoulder.
"THIS IS MY GIRLFRIEND!"
The three boys stared, then stared harder, then stared at Dion, then stared at Denver, and then stared at Dion again.
Dirk whispered, "Bro… you pulled this chick?"
Allan muttered, "Little bro surpassed us…"
Noah adjusted his glasses. "Statistical impossibility."
Denver wanted to evaporate.
Dirk leaned forward. "So… you're Dion's girlfriend?"
Denver nodded so fast she nearly broke her neck. "Y-Yes!"
Allan crossed his arms. "Since when?"
Dion clutched her hand. "Not long ago... we just started this week."
She screamed internally.
"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HOLDING MY HAND?!"
He whispered through clenched teeth, "Act natural!"
"THIS IS NOT NATURAL!"
Noah squinted. "Behavior analysis extreme nervousness suggests either first meeting or elaborate deception."
Dirk smirked. "Nah, little bro just shy."
Allan nodded. "Yeah, girls make men weak."
Dion squeezed her hand harder.
"W-We met… recently," Denver said.
"Where?" Dirk asked.
"At… uh… the… place."
"What place?"
"The… place place."
Noah scribbled notes. "Suspicious vocabulary deficiency."
Dirk collapsed on the couch. "Bro… I can't believe it, Dion got a girlfriend before us."
Allan stared at the floor like his life ended. "I'm gonna start working out."
Noah whispered, "My probability model for lifelong bachelorhood just increased to 87%."
Dirk suddenly walked around the house. "Let's check if Denver's here."
Denver panicked she grabbed Dion's arm and whispered, "DO SOMETHING!"
Dion blocked Dirk's path. "He moved out."
Allan blinked. "Moved out?"
"Yeah she I mean he joined a… a monastery."
Noah looked impressed. "Spiritual pursuit is admirable."
Dirk shrugged. "Makes sense he was weird sometimes."
Denver died a little inside, after snooping around, they gave up.
"All right," Allan said. "Tell Denver we said hi."
Dirk waved. "And tell him he owes us food."
Noah bowed slightly. "Good day, Dion's Girlfriend."
Denver bowed back automatically, then they left and the door closed. Denver collapsed on the floor.
"I almost died."
Dion laughed. "Your acting sucks."
She threw a pillow at him. "SHUT UP!"
She stared at the ceiling.
"My friends think I moved to a monastery. My brother has a fake girlfriend. This is my life now."
From outside, Dirk texted the group chat,
Dirk: Bro Denver did you know that Dion got a girlfriend?
Allan: I quit life.
Noah: Recalculating reality.
Denver turned off her phone.
"…I'm never going outside again."
After some time the front door clicked open with a soft mechanical sound.
Dion and Denver froze.
They were sitting on opposite ends of the couch like strangers forced into the same waiting room. Their shoulders sagged, their expressions blank, and their souls if they still had any were clearly gone.
Mom stepped inside, setting her bag down by the shoe rack. She kicked off her heels with a tired sigh.
"Mom's home."
Her voice carried the exhaustion of someone who had survived a long shift but the moment she lifted her head, her eyes narrowed.
The living room was… quiet.
Too quiet.
No shouting, no arguing, no Dion complaining and no Denver pretending to be responsible. Just two exhausted corpses pretending to be alive.
"…What happened?" she asked slowly.
Dion's head snapped up like a malfunctioning robot. "N-Nothing!"
Denver nodded too fast. "Absolutely nothing."
Mom stared at them then she walked closer, placing her bag on the table. Her gaze traveled from Dion's disheveled hair to Denver's stiff posture. Their eyes avoided hers like criminals avoiding interrogation.
"You both look like you just ran a marathon," she said. "Or got interrogated by the military."
Dion laughed awkwardly. "Haha… funny joke."
Mom did not laugh.
She crossed her arms and leaned slightly forward. "So, why are you exhausted?"
The clock on the wall ticked loudly as Denver slowly sank deeper into the couch.
Dion coughed. "We… cleaned the house."
Mom looked around the house was exactly the same there was even a chip bag on the table.
"…You cleaned?" she repeated.
"Yes," Dion said firmly.
Denver nodded again, still too fast then mom picked up the chip bag and shook it and It crinkled loudly.
"Is this part of the cleaning?"
Dion looked away.
Mom's eyes sharpened.
She walked over and placed a hand on Dion's forehead. "You're sweating."
"Because… cleaning is hard," he said.
She then turned to Denver, who was staring at the ceiling like it might open and swallow her.
"And you?"
Denver swallowed. "Emotional cleaning."
Mom stared.
"…What?"
Dion slapped Denver's knee under the table.
Mom slowly sat down on the armchair, her expression unreadable. "Alright. Start talking."
Both of them stiffened.
"Talking about what?" Dion asked.
"About whatever nonsense you're hiding," Mom replied calmly.
Mom was serious and when she is serious you know for a fact that you are cooked.