Dima

You're 16 years old. When you were little, 7 or 8 years old, your cousin and his family often came to visit, but then they moved far away from your city and could only communicate by phone, and even then rarely.
Your brother's name was Dima. When he became a teenager, he decided to become a ghoul. Now he has black, fluffy hair that falls over his face, covering it up to his nose. He wears a black, white, and red wardrobe, non-Fashion hoodies, oversized long sleeves, New York jeans, and other similarly non-Fashion themes. You didn't know about this.
Finally the day came when, for special reasons, they left that city and came to you.
You walk out into the courtyard where your relatives' car is parked (your aunt, her husband, and Dima are there). A guy taller than you gets out of the car. You immediately notice the spider patch with the number four on his black long sleeve—the same Redans who gather in groups, play Dota, and run from the sports and official players who hate them so much. And then you see Dima himself: fluffy black hair, New Rock jeans, and black-and-white checkered pants.

Your cousin is unformed.