Finn Wolfhard Imagines

Boris- Catastrophic

My older brother knocked on my bedroom door looking sick as hell. We weren't exactly in good terms ever since he broke me up with my boyfriend of four good, long years.

I was sick back then. Really sick. I didn't know if I was going to survive that. So my big brother did all the decisions for me.

I was heartbroken to know that he told Boris I died so he never came back.

I was sick. I couldn't do anything. I hated Bryce for that and I don't think I could ever forgive him. I loved Boris so much. More than my life. And ten years have passed, I think I still do.

But Bryce has never been this ill. Even if we didn't exactly have the best sibling relationship, he was there for me when I was unwell.

I can't loose him too. I have to be there for him.

I hesitantly walked over and felt his clammy forehead.

"Bryce, you good? What happened?"

I rushed over to take off the hefty baggage he had in his hand.

"Y/n, can you fill in for me?"

"Huh?"

"At work. You know that I'm like a part-time errand boy, right? Well, all you gotta do is look after the cat of my boss for me."

"A cat?," I asked in a confused tone.

"Yes. You heard right. C'mon, y/n. You've got cats of your own. I'm sure you'll know what to do."

"Okay. But does your boss know that I'm coming instead of you?"

"Yeah, I told him. Relax, he's a great guy. His cat is the sweetest angel.You don't have anything to worry about."

"Alright. Send me his address."

Bryce wrote his boss's address and a note that says 'the keys are under the rug' on a piece of paper.

"Don't fuck it up, small thing. I'm tight with the man. He's more a brother than a boss. He pays good. He's really cool. But not when he loses his temper," he deadpanned before going back to sleep.

I quickly showered, wore a knitted red sweater with a pair of jeans, and a black sneaks, took my brother's suitcase for work then headed my way.

I was actually glad I get to fill in for him. I'm already 30 and unemployed. Bryce says his boss is my age.

This boss had a weird address. It was the top most floor of a heavily graffitied, old, sordid building. As soon as I got to the door, I immediately fished the keys from under the rug that says 'Трахни тебя.' And if my memory serves me right, it's "Fuck you" in Russian.

"You're shitting me right now." I chuckled, spiralling into a laughing mess while staring at the ground.

I remember my brother telling me his boss had a rug that said fuck you. I thought he was joking but he really wasn't.