twisted sisters — rave.

POPPY 

"Patty! Get your ass in here!"

Poppy sits atop her bed, one leg dangling over the side just above the plush comforter rolled into a knot on the floor while the other leg props up her suitcase. For the fifth time she's tried to close the lid and zip it shut, but it's impossible with all the shoes shoved into the inside pocket, but she can't possibly leave any behind. Each one goes with a very specific outfit; what was she supposed to do, wear mary janes with her pleated jeans instead of stilettos that make her legs look extra thick? No fucking way. She had to make an impression, and she was clearly chosen for this internship competition for a reason. There was no way she was going to look subpar or like she didn't have any fashion sense when she arrived.

"I need you to sit on the lid! Come on!"

She grunts as she pushes herself to her feet, legs all tingly with pins and needles from sitting in one position for too long. Stretching her arms over her head and leaning back, she can feel her knees pop as her spine cracks a little and blood flow moves back into her lower half, but the relief is cut short as she catches the eye of Percy walking down the hall. He doesn't stop, but he does slow down and glare at her, then down to her overflowing suitcase, and finally shakes his head. 

"What the fuck are you looking at?" She scowls, her gaze turning to daggers as his judgement wafts in through the doorway. There's nothing Poppy hates more than that look from her little brother, the one that says you're a disgrace to this family. It makes her skin crawl and her jaw clench and her blood boil. As if she wasn't the one who was going to make Rohan a household name. He's just jealous he'll never accomplish anything as great as I will, she tells herself. But that mantra doesn't stop her from constantly picking at him. "Don't you have a book to bury your nose in or something?" 

He doesn't answer, doesn't even acknowledge she'd spoken. And maybe that's what annoys her most about Percy. She's always been capable of getting on anyone's nerve, her words pierce even the toughest of skins, but he never reacts. No matter what she does or what she says, he acts as if Poppy doesn't exist, like if she were to leave and never come back, he wouldn't even notice. Maybe it hurts a little that her own brother despises her that much just because she is who she is because despite all the shit she gives her, Patty still loves her sister and Poppy still loves her back.

But Percy is different; if Poppy died, she's positive he wouldn't even care.

He walks past her room to his own, and just as the indifference almost brings a tear to her eye, Patty enters into the doorway and snaps Poppy out of whatever self-loathing stupor Percy always manages to put her in. 

"There you are! I need your help, okay?" She turns back around to face the suitcase on her bed, but spins back again for a double-take. "Wait—is that my shirt you're wearing?"