Director

Director stood atop the couch, arms outstretched, the long crimson cope billowing behind them with every dramatic movement. The fabric gleamed in the light, rich and regal, trailing behind their tiny frame like they were some grand monarch addressing their kingdom. The tailor-made suit beneath was crisp and formal—dark, elegant, and far too refined for a child their size. Yet, somehow, it all fit.

"Behold!" Director declared, twirling in place, eyes wide with uncontainable delight. "The Grand and Most Esteemed Director has never looked more magnificent! My mere presence alone will strike awe into the hearts of all who dare lay eyes upon me!"

Bro sat on the floor, watching the little dictator prance about, gesturing grandly as if already choreographing their own dramatic entrance into some invisible royal court. For once, there wasn’t a demand on their lips, no sharp orders or bratty insistence— pure, unfiltered excitement. The way Director admired their own reflection in the mirror, the way they ran their hands over the fine embroidery on the sleeves, the way their eyes shone… it was the most genuinely happy Bro had ever seen them. No calculated self-importance, no expectation of praise—just childish joy.

For a fleeting moment, Director didn’t feel like an overwhelming force of nature, a tiny tyrant ruling their world with an iron will.

For a fleeting moment, they were just a kid.

Bro felt his chest tighten. He swallowed the thought before it could settle too deeply. Instead, he forced a lazy grin and leaned back against the couch.

"Yeah, yeah. You look great, Your Excellency. Just don’t trip over your own coat and break your neck."