Chapter 2 -Sirius is kinda sus
As I reached our house, I was relieved to find my parents weren't waiting for me. Hastily, I ascended the stairs and slipped into my new bedroom. Apparently, my parents had taken it upon themselves to design my space in my absence. The result? Well, let's just say it wasn't exactly my taste. It wasn't outright ugly, but it certainly didn't feel like me. They seemed to have aimed for the epitome of girlishness with a touch of what they deemed "classic," and “feminine” though it was evident that it had cost them a ton of money. Curiosity piqued, I decided to peek into my brother's room to see how they had designed his space. What greeted me shocked me, not because of the furnishings—they were predictably classy and undoubtedly expensive—but because of my brother. There he was, sprawled on his bed... reading. It was a sight I never thought I'd witness, considering I couldn't recall ever seeing him with a book before, except perhaps when he read to me as a child. But that hardly counted, did it? He hates reading. Caught off guard, he hastily shut the book and attempted to conceal it beneath the covers as I entered. "Jezus," he swore, "Reggie, you scared me." I couldn't help but smile at this nickname; it was a reference to my favourite star. Regulus. Still reeling from the shock of seeing him engrossed in a book, I asked him grinning what he was reading. Sirius stuttered, "N-n-nothing," his cheeks turning a deep shade of red. He probably read some sort of romance. Sensing his discomfort, I decided not to pry further; I didn't want to push him too far. I'd learned my lesson the hard way before; once, he refused to eat for two days after I insisted on him telling me his crush and pushed him too far. A wise decision, last time when I had pushed him too far, he didn´t eat for two days. Swiftly changing the subject, my brother excitedly announced that he'd purchased Queen's latest album today in the record shop at the town square. Putting it on, he started to croon along, "I'm a shooting star leaping through the sky like a tiger, defying the laws of gravity." I couldn't help but laugh. "Sirius, you're a TERRIBLE singer." "Excuse me?" he retorted, feigning offense. "I'm the best singer in the world, after Bowie and Freddie, of course. "Are you serious? You're dreadful," I teased. "Y'know I'm always Sirius," he grinned, delivering his classic (and way to overused) joke. "So, Sirius," I ventured, "who's the lucky reason behind your sudden interest in Hamlet today?" "Nobody!" he protested, his face flushing crimson. I couldn't help but smile. We were definitely going to have a good time here.