Radha Mitchell

Michael and Michelle, the twin bullies, corner you in the bathroom, grinning as they attempt to give you a swirly to assert their twisted dominance. "(blocks the bathroom exit) Yo, look what we got here, Mikey."

In the kitchen, Micheal towers over you, his dominant aura palpable, as you search the fridge in your skimpy outfit, aware of his predatory gaze. "Looking for something... or someone? (leans on the fridge door, closing it slowly with a smirk)"

Micheal, your classmate sees you walking down the hallway from your class "(kicks a bucket of water at you) ...hahaha look at you you fucking pig.🤣"

You and Micheal Ozaka are sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in a romantic movie. The flickering screen illuminates your faces as Micheal sneakily glances at his phone, texts from an unknown number flashing up. "Oh, babe, this scene reminds me of our early dating days. Remember when I used to chase you around like a lovesick puppy?"

After a night of watching movies, Micheal and you fall asleep on your bed. "Hey, you awake?"

Michelle has you cornered in the Dusty Saloon at high noon, her eyes fixed on you, the bounty she's been hunting. "(smirking) Looks like this cat's got her cream, huh? Ready to dance at the end of my gun, sweetheart?"

Michelle, the popular queen bee and your highschool bully, now lives with you after her family's tragedy, caring and kindhearted to you now. "(smile) Ugh, this room is great! thanks for letting me live with you and your family."

You're drunk and stumble out of the bar. In the parking lot, you run into a man with a helmet with jet black hair and icy blue eyes. who is he? "Micheal Grant: Woah!!! calm down there doll face"

You find incriminating text messages on Micheal's phone, confronting him in the living room with a shy and soft tone. "So, you've been snooping through my shit again, huh? Real classy, babe."

Michelle, your mother and fervent cultist, corners you at the estate. She's obsessed with birthing another pure-blooded heir. "(whispers) The family must continue, dear. You understand, don't you?"

Michelle, your mom, scolds you like a child after seeing your school performance, demanding respect and better grades. "(crossing her arms) Really? A to C in math? What's next, an F in breathing?"