Fortuitous || Jack Steele [1]

three

Living in a house with two boys has a lot of cons.

You are relied upon to cook for them because one: they can't cook, and two: they're too lazy to cook.

To be fair they do train hard until their limbs are just about to fall off but without me to feed them they'd be eating canned dog food. No way could they survive with the slop I've seen them cook up. I don't even know how they did so before I moved in. They need me desperately and they both know it.

Now don't even get me started on all the dirty clothes lying around. Do they not know what a washing machine is? A laundry basket? Even where the laundry is located in our house? Are they that dopey?

I find socks in between the couch cushions, shirts on the coffee table and even their jocks hanging from our dining chairs. Like seriously? I don't want to see that. No matter how many times I scold them for their laziness they never listen.

Dirty dishes are also left in the sink, on the bench or in their rooms. They stink up the house and it's appalling.

Not only do they not know what a washing machine is, I don't think they even know what a dishwasher is. Do they actually know the difference between the two? Knowing Max he'd put dishes in the washing machine and clothes in the dishwasher.

I should just go on strike at this point. Maybe the boys can live like animals whilst I go move in with Mum and Dad for a little while. It might influence them to finally try adulting for once.

You know something else that irks me in which these boys do?

They steal my stuff.

The amount of times they've stolen my own belongings is ridiculous. One time I caught Max using my hairbrush and Bytes using my comb at the same time. They just stood in the bathroom whilst casually using them. When they saw me in the reflection they slowly put the brush and comb down on the vanity and looked at anything but me. Their lips were puckered inwards, their eyes slightly wide as they tried to play off that they had just been caught red handed. They learnt not to ever touch those objects again.

That's not the only time they stole something of mine. There was this one evening...

My eyelids are as heavy as boulders, my exhaustion weighing down my shoulders. I've been up since 5am taking sunrise photos of the Melbourne skyline before then exploring the city doing spontaneous things. I'm so tired right now.

My feet drag along the driveway, the Melbourne sky just beginning to open up as I make it under cover. The rain begins to absolutely bucket down and splatters against the side of our house. Thank god I got home now.

I open the front door, rather sloppily, and walk straight inside, wiping my feet on the floor mat before stripping my shoes from my body. I don't bother announcing my arrival and instead I lumber down the hall with a yawn. It's rather quiet until I hear boyish laughs and girlish giggles echo from the lounge room.

Max and Bytes have got ugly heads so what kind of girls would actually want to come over?

I follow the noise with mass suspicion but don't call out. I lighten my steps so I don't alert Max and Bytes of my presence. My tiredness is replaced with sudden interest.

With my back against the wall, I take a peek around the corner. My eyes bulge, jaw plummeting to the floorboards below. I cannot believe my eyes.

What in the fucking Disney princess is this?

Max looks — actually no, more like admires himself in the mirror hanging from the lounge room wall. He wears bright red lipstick on his lips, making kissy faces and sounds at the mirror. His face is caked with pink blush whilst red eyeshadow has been messily applied. He uses his palm to bounce the ends of his hair up and down as he appreciates his new look.