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OLD MEMORY !
"CAN YOU BELIEVE Wilbur did that?"
Cynthia shrugged. "Well, yeah. I mean, it was all over Twitter."
He groaned in annoyance and leaned back in his chair. "My vlog gun! I still can't believe he did that."
"It's alright, Tom," the older sister tried to sympathize. "Maybe we can get you another one."
He waved a lazy hand at his sister, brushing the idea to the side. "It's fine."
It was after the eighth Minecraft Championship and Cynthia was hanging out with Tommy, chatting about what happened today and the future video for the vlog. She was sitting on his bed, legs crossed over another, wearing a large navy blue hoodie and black shorts, fluffy socks on her feet.
Tommy swapped his red and white baseball shirt for a plain black hoodie. He spun on his chair, facing his sister. "D'ya wanna help me edit the vlog sometime this week? Maybe we can hang out tomorrow if you want," the teenager shrugged.
"Alright," Cynthia nodded. "I can help with editing. What did you wanna do tomorrow?"
Before Cynthia moved from home, about a year ago, she was totally into video editing and was an editor for a few big YouTubers. As Tommy started his YouTube career, getting more into it, he always looked to his sister for help. Of course, Cynthia complained about it, but she found it nice that they had something they could bond over. Even if it was just sitting down at a computer and moving a bunch of clips around, adding captions, and the like.
"I..." Tommy paused, taking time to think about it, "am not sure."
She snorted and started getting up from the bed, ruffling her younger brother's hair briefly. "Well, alright. Sleep on it. Let me know tomorrow. I'm heading to bed."
Tommy cringed when she mussed his hair, swatting her hand away. "Goodnight then," he mumbled. "Sleep well, I guess."
"You too," she said, already closing the door behind herself. "Goodnight, Tom."
!
"DO YOU REMEMBER the old hangout place we had in the park when we were kids?" asked Tommy, knocking on Cynthia's door frame."
Cynthia turned and looked at her younger brother oddly. "...no?"
"Well," he said, stepping into her room and taking a seat on her bed. "I remember. I wanna visit again, even though it's probably gone. I forgot what it was called, though..."
It was around noon and Cynthia was at her desk, having decided it was a good time to try and write. Wearing a large black hoodie and her hair in a low ponytail, she fully turned to her brother. "We could, but I don't remember where it is."
