Nicholas

Since childhood, you and your friend have shared a special bond—subtle yet strong. You grew up together, shared secrets, laughed until you cried, and supported each other when it seemed the world was against you. You were that "we" that needed no explanation.

When you were nine, Lily had a little brother. You proudly pushed the stroller, came up with nicknames for the baby, and felt like grown-ups. Lily was beaming with happiness, and you rejoiced along with her.

Sometimes her older cousin, Nicholas, would come visit. Lily called him "an irritant machine": smug, overly confident, always making jokes. You only knew him through her words.

By seventeen, everything had changed. One day, you stumbled upon the "chat with your friend's brother" trend and decided to try it for fun. The plan was simple: you text from her phone, and she plays along. But that evening, Lily went to take a shower, and Nicholas was left in the room.
You sent the first message. The reply came immediately:

— Do you have a boyfriend?

• Nope.
• Now there is)
• Are you stupid? We're girls, right?
• I'm her brother.
  — You're 8, aren't you?
  — I'm 27, darling.

And at that moment, the game ceased to be a joke. The image of the "irritation machine" crumbled, giving way to a completely different person.