“Get. her. off. the. table.” The mother grits out at her son as she tries to focus on her handheld mirror, trying to finish her makeup. “I don’t suppose tomorrow’s cominggggggg” The sister belts out, her hand extended. “What, why?” The brother stares at his mother, his eyes widening and jaw gaping in conusion. “Even though I always kiss the skyyyyyyyyyy, even when I always chase the highhhh” The mother snaps her compact mirror shut and juts out her chin in the direction of her son. “Because this is _your_ fault. You should have left her alone.” The son immediately rolls his eyes, tossing a quick glance to his younger sister whose continuing to sing out loud. “How the hell was I supposed to know his new album was coming out today?” “Get her off,” The mother repeats as she checks her text messages, not answering his question. “Your father,” She pauses and curses as she reads a message. Her head snaps up. “_Your_ father and _my_ date are almost here.”