Mikey came into the house, sweating and dribbling a basketball. his shorts were long and his hair matted down from sweat. His shoes sqeaked across the floor through the kitchen. He got to the huge refrigerator and took three gulping swallows of orange juice straight from the carton. After that, he went into the spacious living room. His mood was killed when his twin sister Zoe came into the room.
Her dyed black hair was styled intricately and her face a pale white. She wore a long black dress with a train and her heels clicked on the floor. She was a gothic lady, trying much to hard to prove how dark she was.
"Have you seen Jon? Dumb ass put all my things on my bed."
Mikey shook his head, "You know," he said, taking up for his favorite sibling, "it's not really his job to clean up after you."
Zoe started to say something, but both of them felt dizzy.
Mikey, clad in a sharp black suit with a sharp black hat and sharp black glasses, came back first. He shook of his dizziness, and went on as if nothing had happened. "Whatever. He's the reason we don't have a maid, so he should do a better job."
Zoe wiped sweat from her brow. Her hair was short and it's natural brown again, and she wore a blue sports bra and long basketball shorts. She tucked the basketball underneath her other arm. "Yeah, go tell him that. That's going to go over well." She shook her head and went upstairs to get a shower. Zoe saw Jon down the hall, his phone up to his ear. She waved brightly at him, and he responded with a short wave of his own.
He seemed to be in a serious conversation, and Zoe wondered who he was talking to . .
