"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Yugikun
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“Don’t try to pull that on me, Rene. We both know what you really do when no-one else is around,” Jasmine said, tightening her voice to give it a little bit of a sinister feel. Irene’s insubordinance was beginning to wear a little thin, but it was still worth entertaining at this point. Give the inferior being a false hope that maybe one day their existence would have validation. Not that she actually believed that, though; Irene was a great person and Jasmine was sure that she’d be super successful down the road. Sure, she tended to land C’s for most of her classes, but she did really well elsewhere and it wasn’t like her failures in class were necessarily a bad thing. If anything it helped their friendship: Irene wasn’t as smart as Jasmine was and thus Jasmine could keep holding on to her position as superior.

That didn’t mean that Irene was dumb, though. Far from it, actually. She got grades in maths and science that were far above average, and although Jasmine wasn’t really sure how it actually related to intelligence or what purpose it actually served suddenly challenging Jasmine to a race and giving yourself a headstart probably fit more into intelligence than it did in strength or beauty. Jasmine followed Irene down the stairs as quickly as she could, and although she couldn’t quite match Irene’s borderline sprint she managed to keep up around two to three steps behind her. She could move faster, and considering that Irene had cheated in suddenly launching off she definitely wanted to win this. Although she’d likely forget about it she did not want to lose a competition in such an unfair way; so she sped up, caught up on the stairs, and…

“Hey, no fair!”

They were at the bottom of the stairs, Jasmine’s attempt to break past thwarted because Irene was pushing against the walls. Jasmine pouted. That certainly wasn’t fair. She thought that was an equal race, not one that was impossible for her to win.

Wait, no, the race wasn’t actually over yet. They were at the bottom of the stairs, not the living room. She could still win this.

“However, as the current reigning queen of the household, I am the one who determines the rules,” she said, walking over towards the couch. “And as the current reigning queen, I decree that the first person to touch the couch is the winner of this race.”

She tapped the end of the couch.

“So I guess that you’re the rotten egg here, Irene.”
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Oh, it's so sad to think about the good times, you and I... · Memories from the Past