Just Another High School Cliché

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"Balance, balance, BALANCE Y/N!!!"

The younger girl let out a shriek as the motorbike with her on it almost tumbled toward the right, but fortunately, that was exactly where the older boy was standing next to her, well-built muscles ready to catch her and the motorcycle if- well, not if, more like when she lost balance.

"Dammit bastard, I told not to raise the seat! My feet can't even touch the ground!"

The said 'bastard' gave her an incredulous look. "Well, how about a nice little, 'You saved my life, I'm now eternally enslaved to you'? I swear bitch, even the bike ain't half as heavy as you are!"

"Oh, shut up, you're just too weak and you know it," the girl- Y/N- retorted. She was particularly annoyed by the fact that her brother was more or less forcing her to learn the vehicle when she had no interest. Well, frankly speaking, even he had no interest in teaching her, but you see, he had no other choice. The cycle Y/N was currently sitting on was their father's; the boy had been bugging their old man to get him one too since a long time now. Being the stubborn ass brat he was, he did compel his father to comply, but everything comes at a price, folks.

The set of terms and conditions that the boy was given were as follows:

(1) He wouldn't even think about touching his father's motorcycle once he got one for himself.

(2) He would teach his absolutely sweet and lovely younger baby sister how to ride a bike, so that-

(3) He wouldn't have the vehicle all to himself; he would have to- drumroll . . .

. . . share.

That one thing no sibling had ever been or would ever be okay with doing.

"No, you shut up and concentrate on balancing yourself," he snapped, straightening the motorcycle, which was tilted toward him. "If you get as much as a single scratch on the bike or yourself, Dad is gonna skin me alive!"

The absolutely sweet and lovely younger baby sister passed him a cheeky grin. "I just am that lovable, hoe. Just admit it, Mom and Dad love me more than they love you."

Kim Taehyung rolled his beautiful eyes. "I'm still the prettier one here, so at the end of the day who wins?"

Y/N scoffed. "Says the guy who got rejected by four girls in one week."

The dark-haired boy's peepers went wide at that. "How do you know about that?!"

"Bitch please, you locked yourself in your room and wailed."

His eyes widened even more, "I did not wail!"

"Yes, you did! You were talking to your friend on the phone and you were howling," she spat. "I don't know how he beared it, when that deep ass voice of yours breaks, it sounds so ugly!"

"What did you just say?!" Taehyung thundered.

"Ugly!" Y/N repeated in English. "U to the G to the L to the Y! UGLY!"

"Well, you sound ugly when you laugh! It makes me wanna grab my hair!"

"Well, you look ugly when you lick the leftover ramen soup off your plate!"

"You speak as if you don't lick the leftover ramen soup off your plate! You look ugly too!"

"Well then, that elephant mole on your arm - that's ugly too!"