Dave Strider cringed at the sound of something breaking from the kitchen. His brothers were undoubtedly trying to do this foreign thing called 'cooking'. Which was okay for Dave to do, but when it came to Dirk or Bro doing it, there was a good change the apartment was going down in flames.
The teen sat up in bed, where he'd been for hours, awake, but unmoving. He didn't get much sleep, for some reason he just couldn't relax and lay unconscious for eight hours. The blonde sighed, grabbing his shades from the floor next to the mattress he slept on, covered in heavy blankets.
His room was anything but bare, with posters covering the walls, and the turntables he'd gotten for his thirteenth birthday against the far wall. His room was dark though, thick curtains covering the window. The light hurt his eyes, which was one of the reasons for his shades, aside from the fact that it was some kind of weird mutation that ran in his family. It kind of spooked people.
Dave got to his feet and slid on the dark aviators, going towards the bedroom door, and out into the conjoined livingroom and kitchen area. Everything was basically falling apart, but the three Striders did the best they could. His eighteen year old brother, Dirk was in college, and their eldest brother, who they referred to as 'Bro' didn't want Dirk to leave home until he graduated. The two of them fumbled around in the kitchen, doing God-knows-what.
"Dude, I don't think actual carrots would be in carrot cake."
"But Bro, the recipe says here.."
"But it's a fuckin' cake!"
"Well then let's make something else. This is ridiculous man."
The two stopped to peer into a recipe book, glancing at the baking section. "Why the hell are you guys making cake?" Dave spoke up, raising his eyebrows. The two glanced back at him, their weird triangular shades making them look like some bullshit monsters from a video game as their actions synchronized.
"New neighbors." Dirk replied, Bro nodding. "Since the smuppet party didn't go so well last time, we're trying cake. They're supposed to be here tonight." Bro added. "By that, I mean in like five hours. Google maps, man." The two then went back to bickering about cake, and Dave looked at the kitchen table, grabbing the Mcdonalds bag and the bottle of apple juice, that was obviously for him, and went into the livingroom to sit on the couch. This was gonna be a long day. Their new neighbors were probably some old people like last time with little shit grandkids who Dave had to babysit. Of course Bro would ask him to help them unpack.
He might as well get dressed.