It was so fucking stupid. Why the only two shows he actually fancied had to come on at the same time. Out of all the other days he spent being bored after he'd finished admiring his own reflection for an hour, Thursday nights happened to be the only time where he could keep himself busy. His sister always bugged him about finding a hobby or, more favorably, caring more about his school work. He frankly considered the former to be pointless and didn't give a shit about the latter. He was already in the Prufrock Performance Club and considered his theatre work to be the only hobby he needed. As for his school work, he didn't consider it worth his time to constantly go over codes he already understood, bitch about morals he didn't truly believe in, and prepare for missions with people he hated. Nonetheless, despite his parents being on "vacation", burning god knows what at the moment, his sister had some how taken charge of the household. She made sure to keep herself involved in he and his siblings lives, which included intimidating him with the all so popular "I'll snitch to mom and dad" threat. He knew his parents wouldn't care that he didn't enjoy his schooling, if anything they'd be relieved. It wasn't like they themselves hadn't defect. They were the cause of the whole goddamn schism, for fucks sake. But he knew they still wanted him to get his volunteer training properly, claiming he'd be a useless villain if he didn't use the knowledge to his advantage, later.

They'd always expected him to defect to their side. His whole life there had been no question about it. It was certain. Honestly, he didn't mind. He always found his parents' people to be more daring, confident, and downright badass. But he was him, so any rule that tried to dictate him, caused him to rebel against it, even if he liked it. It was in his nature. It was just what he did, much to the dismay of those around him. He found VFD to be pointless and hypocritical. Yet, because his parents hated it so much, he stayed. He guessed he just enjoyed pissing people off. He smiled to himself and flipped through the channels during the commercials. Sitting on top of the television was a copy of Dead Souls by Nikolai Gogol that he had stolen from Snicket. God he hated him. He always had that stupid book tucked under his arm, sulking around and acting like he was better than Olaf was. Always taking him for a fool. And what kind of name was Lemony supposed to be anyway?! Did his parents look at him and think of fucking fruit?

His parents always said, "all the Snickets are the same." Somewhat ironic coming from his mother, who had been adopted by them, as a child. She was raised as Lemony's mothers younger sister, until their falling out which, would eventually, lead to the schism. His parents blamed the Snickets for, just about, every problem in their lives and Olaf didn't blame them for thinking so. They were all such self righteous bastards, constantly reading, and constantly being praised by others. He despised them. He wanted to over power them.

The girl in the corner of his room cleared her throat. He turned to look at her, expecting her to address him, but she didn't even look his way. He frowned, even though he knew she didn't see it. He didn't understand how one could be so engrossed in such boring and repetitive work. The again, she was a Snicket too. For just about a month she had done the same thing every time she came over. She would come into his house, hang her coat on the rack downstairs, then proceed to walk up to his room and drop her bag down. He would give her his homework and she would do it, all without ever saying a word to him. She always did it curled up by his door, on the floor. She never asked for a chair, nor a desk, and never went further into his room, except occasionally to use the restroom.

His sister wanted his grades to improve, so what did he do? He went to the smartest girl in his year and forced her to do his work for him. Was forced the right word? He WANTED to force her to do it, to feel like he had won over her. He knew she was extremely quiet, even more so than Lemony, and always seemed to hate interacting with people outside of her, extremely small, friend circle. She read way too much, probably why she wore glasses, and never made eye contact. She always, at least from what he'd noticed, seem to be afraid of everything. He expected her to cry, or even cower, when he had first approached her. He'd pinned her against the lockers and stared down at her intimidatingly. He told her what he wanted her to do and said that she didn't have a choice in the matter. But, instead of crying, she'd simply said "alright" and wriggled away from him, walking to her next class. He'd been stunned. He didn't know what confused him more, that fact that she wasn't scare or that she'd agreed to do his work for him, so casually.

Nevertheless, here they were. Were they really there? She always seemed like she was in her own world when she sat there. Every time she finished, she simply put it on his dresser and left. She never said a word to him. It angered him. She angered him.

She angered him because she was quiet. She angered him because she wasn't afraid of him. She angered him because she was a Snicket. Everything she did just angered him.

He could think of so many things that were wrong with her. She read too much. She enjoyed school. She was related to Lemony. And she was unbelievably ugly. Like a new level of ugly. He couldn't stand her face. She looked like a rat to him. Her glasses were huge and her face was small and round. Her eyes were a lighter, uglier, shade of green than his were. She always kept her stupid, matted hair tied up into a messy bun. She had no fashion sense. Her ears were too small and her eyes were too big. He hated her.

She shifted on the ground, as if she could feel him scowling at her. Yet, she still didn't seem scared. Why wasn't she scared of him?

He realized he had been staring at her for a little

Too long and quickly looked away. He tried to focus on the commercials but his eyes kept drifting back over to her small figure.

Without thinking, he reached across his bed and grabbed a bag of popcorn that had been sitting on the floor. He frowned and popped one into his mouth. He changed the channel again, began shoving handfuls more into his mouth. He watched as one fell to the floor and rolled, slightly, in her direction. As if instinctual, he picked up the popcorn kernel and threw it at her.

She stilled didn't move. He scowled and threw another one at her.

Still nothing.

He didn't given a fuck anymore. He started taking about page handfuls and flinging then at her, roughly.

Still nothing.

Fuck her.

He didn't know why he cared that she wasn't responding, but he did and he wasn't about to stop now. He kept throwing them and they kept hitting her. Some hitting her head and back, and others flying past and landing on the papers she was holding. She would always just brush them out of the way and keep writing. Never once did she even flinch.

Olaf gave a huff of frustration. There was no more popcorn in the bag, all of it sitting in random places on his floor. He couldn't believe she had done nothing that whole time.

As if she was mocking him, she straightened her back and started to stack the papers she had been working on. She zipped her backup up, papers in hand, and rose to her feet.

He watched her in disbelief. How dare she just ignore him? She slung her back over her shoulder and put her hand on the doorknob, pausing there. Olaf watched as she sighed and let her head drop. She spun on her heel and headed towards the side of his bed. She stopped and looked up at him for the first time since he'd pinned her to the locker. He watched her with an amused expression, eyebrow raised.

She said nothing, simply sticking her hand out and handing him his stack of papers. He looked at the papers, and then her, grabbing them from her hands. He gave her a taunting smile once they were in his hands, one which she did not return. She turned and headed back to the door of his room. As she opened it, he cleared his throat, causing her to pause.

"Thank you, Kit," Olaf teased.

She said nothing still, not even letting out a sigh, but Olaf could see her ball her fist up in frustration. She walked out the door and closed it behind her.

Stupid bitch

Olaf smiles in his well deserved victory. That was she deserved for ignoring him. Not like he cared, though. She was annoying. She was ugly. She was just god awful. Besides, he only wanted her there to keep his grades up for him. He would never let her in his house for any other reason. It wasn't anything more. He only liked to get on her nerves, as he did to Lemony. They are all the same, and he hated them. He just...didn't like being ignored. He could deal with her other annoying behaviors, even if they did piss him off. The same annoying behaviors every time she came over, 4 days each week. The same thing. It's not like he wanted...something else... to happen...he didn't even like her. He just...didn't like being ignored. He hated her so badly, for so many things...but what he hated the most was that she would look at him, wouldn't talk to him, wouldn't even address his presence. He wasn't used to that, and he didn't like it either.

He'd made up his mind. He would make her notice him. Everyone else noticed him. He was popular, people always cared what he was doing. Girls, especially. And even though she was ugly, really ugly, Kit Snicket should not be immune to his charm. He wanted her to squirm under his gaze. To tremble whenever he got near.

He smiled to himself, victoriously. He'd made up his mind. She would pay attention to him. He knew it.

See you tomorrow Kit

There's chapter one guys! I'm excited for this one cause I've had this idea for a long ass time. Btw Kit isn't actually ugly, Olaf just keeps telling himself that.