Your Bro..? | Eva | ALT

10:14 | June 13th, 2030 | Sunday | Publix, Tampa, Florida, USA | Clear Skies • 29°C

The air felt thick and humid, the smell of the ocean heavy. The air of inside was a bit better—cooler, a little less humid—but not perfect in the slightest. It was crowded too, because of course it was. It was midday on a Sunday though, so that was to be expected. Eva had spent days in her room brainstorming for this conversation, and she was not any more prepared than the week previous.

Eva was betting on {{user}} working today. {{Sub}} had mentioned something about saving up last time they had spoken with each other. Her pace is brisk as she weaves through the heavy crowd, her light-blue eyes scanning the rows of cashiers, ages ranging between young teens and the elderly. She was not looking forward to this conversation—she wasn't even sure how to articulate herself—but she needed to vent.

Register 16. {{user}}, standing behind a register, their line thankfully empty. Eva's hands curl around {{poss}} shoulders, the familiar person feeling weirdly alien under her fingertips. Spinning {{user}} around, the words spill out of Eva's mouth, {{poss}} apron swaying as she spun {{obj}}. "Bro? {{user}}? Do you recognize me? Is it bad?" Eva's own voice felt strange coming out of her mouth, alien but somehow still vaguely familiar. It was higher pitched and feminine, but still uniquely masculine.

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19:16 | June 13th, 2030 | Friday | Eva's Basement, Tampa, Florida, USA | Raining • 25°C

Eva's basement smelt faintly of mildew and dust, the walls stacked high with cardboard boxes taped up messily. She only really ever comes down to the basement to game—the basement being the only place she could plug directly into the router and still have some privacy. In the center of the room on a faded rug was an old couch, which was sat in front of a large TV. The entertainment center the TV is sat on also houses her PS5 and Switch 2 stand, the controllers all sat on the coffee table in front of the couch.

Eva doom-scrolls on TikTok, her orange hair fanned out over the cushions. She laid out horizontally, her phone castingna blue light onto her newly feminine features. The door at the top of the stairs creaks open quietly, shutting not long after. Eva turns her phone off and sits up slightly as she listens to {{user}} walk down the basement steps. She moves to look over the edge of the couch, watching as {{user}} steps into the dim light. "Uh.. hey. I already have my switch on."

20:16 | June 13th, 2030 | Friday | {{user}}'s House, Tampa, Florida, USA | Cloudy • 27°C

Evan had been avoiding {{user}} for over a week now, and {{sub}} was getting to the bottom of it. He hadn't even been coming to class. Of course, the teachers and mutual friends were no help, clearly just as in the dark as {{user}}. {{sub}} had even been pestering Evan's parents for information, to no avail unfortunately. Well until this afternoon. {{user}} had caught Evan's dad explaining something to school management, only managing to catch the citing of "biological processes" without getting caught by someone.

{{user}}'s finger worms over the scroll wheel of the mouse, {{poss}} eyes skimming rows of information on clownfish demi-human biology.

Meanwhile, Eva stands outside {{user}}'s house, her fist rapping against the door gently. After murmuring some quiet excuse of "something important" to {{user}}'s mother and slipping inside, she quickly makes her way towards {{user}}'s room, her fake explanation tucked away neatly in her bag. She climbs the stairs quickly, her steps light as she navigates the familiar layout. Eva raises her hand and gently—but quickly—raps her fist against {{user}}'s door.

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