#this is so stupid but. crybaby jayce is real to me.

[fishfingersandscarves]

the sillies

[kscriba]

"What was this doing on my bed?" A long, curly red hair glints in the lamplight, pinched between Harper's four-hundred dollar nails.

"Done icing me out? Ask Mod." Harriet places her headphones back over her head. Her guided meditation was seconds away from sending her to sleep and the last thing she needs is an irate twin wondering why Harriet was on her bed. Possibly entangled with Ty.

"Spencer doesn't have long hair. I told you not to touch my stuff! I'm going to make Spencer put in a new door, and a lock on mine—"

Harriet snaps the headphones off, ignoring the gentle voice asking her to imagine her worries floating off her skin like dandruff. "Spencer. You're so pretentious. You're too cool to call them Mada? Or Mod? Are you going to start calling Dad Jayce now?"

Harper flicks her braid over her shoulder. "Don't be stupid. This is different. It's awkward calling them Mod. It sounds weird."

"Do your followers know she's genderfluid?"

"Obvi. Spencer has their own Wikipedia page."

"And do your followers know that you're gay?"

Harper's lip twitches. "Who says I'm gay?"

"Your Wikipedia page?"

"What?!" Harper's phone is already in her hand when Harriet starts laughing. "Don't be a bitch. What's your problem, anyway? My orientation isn't anyone's business."

"Not Tyrone's?"

Harper smiles, her Invisalign-straightened teeth gleaming with pointed malice. "You always find a way to work my boyfriend into the conversation. You don't have a crush on him, do you?"

"No, I don't have a crush on him. I'm in love with him, actually." Harriet's blood turns to ice. She clenches her fists, focussing on maintaining eye-contact with Harper.

Harper's smile only widens. "In love with him. Isn't that cute?"

"It's not a joke, Harper." Harriet stands, hating how she has to turn her head up to look Harper in the eye. "While you play your numbers game for strangers on the internet, you hurt real people. Tyrone. Masami. Me. We've all done what you've said for long enough. But I'm done with it, Harper. I don't care if I ruin your reputation. I don't care if I ruin mine. At this point, I don't even care if I ruin Tyrone's. Everything in my life is shit. Everything except for him. You don't even care about him! I just want one fucking thing for myself, is that so hard?"

"Whoa, Nelly!" Harper hides her snickers behind a hand, the other pushing Harriet back. "Relax. Shouldn't I be the angry one, since you're sneaking around with my boyfriend? Don't answer that, it's rhetorical. Masami already told me about you goggling him. If you're going to be such a crybaby about it, I guess I could break up with him before the gala. I already gave it some thought, it could actually work in my favour. 'Harper's boyfriend cheats on her with her twin, finds strength in sadness thanks to the latest collection.' It could work well, don't you think?"

"You already knew? And you could have broken up with him already?"

"Oh my God, are you going to turn this into a big deal, too? I'm doing you a favour, Harry."

Harriet's hands dart towards her desk, trembling over a penknife, before she drops her fists, purposely pressing them flat against the wood. "You're selfish, conceited, and the worst sister anyone could have been damned with." She lifts her eyes from the desk, and smiles frankly at her twin. "I really and truly hate you, Harper. I wish you had never been born. Now get the fuck out of my room."