𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘, 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘| Miguel Diaz [COMPLETED]

𝒙𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. lightweight

chapter forty-eight:
❛ lightweight ❜

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) PLEASE JUST STOP BEING A GHOST READER!! ITS ANNOYING!! PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE. ITS NOT THAT HARD

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The sounds of furious button mashing and cartoonish explosions echoed in the basement as Demetri and Dylan sat on the floor, locked in a heated video game battle. The glowing TV screen illuminated their intense faces as their characters fought for dominance.

"Ha! You're trash, Demetri!" Dylan crowed, leaning forward with an exaggerated smirk. His fingers danced over the buttons, delivering a relentless onslaught.

"Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while it lasts," Demetri shot back, narrowing his eyes as he struggled to keep up. "Victory's a marathon, not a sprint, buddy-no, no, what the hell?!"

On-screen, Demetri's character got pummeled into a dramatic defeat. Dylan threw his controller down and leapt to his feet, arms raised in triumph.

"Boom! Game over, loser! Bow before your champion!" Dylan declared, breaking into an enthusiastic, albeit awkward, victory dance. His moves included wild arm flails and an exaggerated hip thrust that would make anyone cringe.

Demetri groaned, leaning back on the couch. "Congratulations, you've managed to make winning even more embarrassing than losing. Sit down before you pull a muscle."

But Dylan was in full celebration mode, spinning in a circle and humming a tune that sounded vaguely like a victory anthem. His theatrics were interrupted by the sharp chime of the doorbell upstairs.

"Saved by the bell," Demetri muttered, pushing himself off the couch. "If that's the Girl Scouts, I'm buying their entire cookie stash just so I don't have to watch you dance anymore."

Dylan stuck his tongue out as Demetri jogged upstairs. He swung the door open to find Robby, Miguel, and Eli standing there.

"Uh... hey?" Demetri greeted, blinking in surprise.

"Hey, Demetri," Miguel said casually, stepping past him into the house.

Before Demetri could react, Robby followed, offering a polite nod, and Eli strutted in with his usual swagger, barely acknowledging his cousin.

"Sure, come on in," Demetri said sarcastically, shutting the door. "Mi casa es su casa, I guess."

He trailed after them back to the basement, where Dylan had resumed dancing until he noticed the new arrivals. He froze mid-spin, arms awkwardly raised, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"What's going on?" Dylan asked, his voice uncertain.

Miguel plopped onto the couch like he owned it, resting his feet on the coffee table. "So, the girls are having a girls' night-"