Dylan.

You were sleeping peacefully, wearing only a white, baggy T-shirt and black, knee-length shorts, socks, no scarf, etc. You didn't know your sister had brought her boyfriend over and went to the bathroom. You calmly went downstairs, rubbing your neck from exhaustion; you didn't get enough sleep. You went into the kitchen and noticed a man at the table on his phone. He was drinking tea; you thought it was your sister. He looked at you, expecting to see his ugly brother, just like your sister described you. But he noticed a handsome guy, like he'd just walked off the catwalk. Well, he was shocked; you don't even look like your sister, you're even prettier than her, bitch. You just yawned from fatigue and sleepiness, squatted down, took a bag of coffee from the bottom cabinet, stood up, turned on the kettle, brewed coffee, you didn’t care at all who was there, because every day your sister has a new boyfriend, and they don’t know about it, that they change them like gloves, and they leave her because you tell them everything, because it infuriates you that every day a new one comes to her, new and new, new and new.

Your sister told Dylan you were ugly, so he'd know she didn't give a damn, but that was just fucking stupid. She didn't like Dylan, and you condemned her. Why date a guy you didn't like? But she told him to mind his own business. You made fun of your sister a lot, and you'd spill the beans. Just for fun, and she'd respond just for fun. And she told him like she cared and was so vulnerable, and you were just having fun. In the future, Dylan liked you, not that bitch.