Now... it... starts!

Season One

Chapter 1: A New Dawn

You wake up to the first rays of light of the day falling on your face through the window. The first thing you feel is the warmth on your face. You feel that every morning and it is a wonderful feeling not to be woken up by the alarm clock in your cell phone, but by the warmth on your face.

The second thing is the delicate arm by your side, which also includes a delicate hand. Today, this hand lays on your chest. Two slim legs have encircled yours and fingers have dug into your hair and are moving slightly as the girl next to you also slowly comes to her senses. The movements tickle your head like every morning and you turn to your bedmate to look at her. Your faces are only inches apart.

"Good morning," you say softly, looking the girl in the eye. In response, you get a sleepy but extremely happy smile and a deep, several seconds long look in yours.

"N'morning BB," Millie mumbles, keeping her hand on your chest.

"How was your night?" you ask and give the girl by your side a cheerful smile. It is important to make her feel good in the morning and the question comes from the bottom of your heart.

"If I'm lying next to you, all is well, Big Brother."

It has been quite normal for you to wake up next to your little sister recently. You roll to the side and feel her hand slide over your stomach to your hips and then land in the sheets. Then you cover her face with your hands and kiss her lightly on the forehead.

"Don't stay in bed too long," you admonish her with a mischievous smile in the corners of your mouth. You know only too well that Millie is a late riser just like you. When you roll out of bed, you still make sure that Millie is wrapped in her duvet. You look at her pajamas and notice that these are slowly becoming too small for your sister. No! Then you get dressed. You only need to put on a T-shirt. As so, and in boxer shorts, you turn around at the door to your bedroom. The petite head of your little sister has already sunk back on the pillows. "Ten minutes," you warn her playfully, then you leave the room.

Your first course goes to the bathroom as always. Millie may have the luxury of being able to sleep a little longer, but you need a couple of strong taps of cold water in the face to start your day. You look in the mirror and ask yourself - like every morning - what had to happen to make your life so complicated. Your imaginary drill sergeant appears in front of you to light a fire under your ass like every morning.

"Get your shit together!" you hiss quietly. "Get your shit together and be the hero of the day." Perhaps this time your speech will help you not to be completely depressed and disgusted again in the evening. You doubt it.

You shower quickly and warmly. You prefer cold, but you have a job like every morning. The music that you play on the small but powerful loudspeaker invigorates your senses better than the hot water on your face.

After you are done, you wipe the steamed-up mirror, but leave a spot on the bottom left. You put a smile on your face, no comparison to what you gave your little sister, and go downstairs. But not without preparing a toothbrush for Millie, a towel drenched in warm water for her face and a damp towel for afterwards and drawing a smiley face on the misted mirror surface in the corner.

You go outside into the hallway past your parents' already empty bedroom, then down the stairs. The smell of fried bacon and eggs rises in your nose and leads the way to the kitchen. Your mother is standing in the kitchenette while your father is sitting at the table reading the newspaper.

"Good morning, my family of clichés," you greet them. Before either of them can say a word, something falls on you from behind. A shrill scream and two arms loop around your shoulders. You muster a startled gasp but react quickly. You grab the attacking arms, hold them over your head and lift the body in the air and on your back and turn around several times. Bright chuckles fill the kitchen and under the eyes of your parents you set the attacker down again. Your father shakes his head amused.

"Who am I?" asks the giggling voice behind you and covers your eyes with delicate but strong hands.

"The most annoying sister in the world," you grumble, but you can't help but smile. Your sister's breasts press against your neck and when you let the girl slide down on you, you feel them too slide down your back. Even if the contact was short, you won't get rid of the feeling for the rest of the day.

You used to have to pull yourself together to avoid touching the place they touched to make sure, they were actually gone. Come on. Fight! You are a fighter, your drill sergeant roars at you and he starts his day too.

"What? How mean!” A loud bang echoes through the kitchen when your attacker hits you on the rear with full .

"Megan!" Shouts your mother. "Not so rough." But you just laugh and turn around.

Your other sister is standing in front of you. Megan the tornado. Unlike you or Millie, she is an early riser, already fully clothed and full of energy. Today she is wearing her blue denim jacket with the wine-red t-shirt underneath, together with the blue striped skirt and black leggings and the obligatory sneakers. She tied her light brown hair into a ponytail that lies over her right shoulder. No nosebleed now! Fight you bastard. Fight! You have a task!

You just gathered so much strength this morning to counter the attack from just now and your next action. You grab her hips and whirl her around several times, this time the other way around. You turn so fast that her legs come dangerously close to the chairs and walls in the kitchen. But that doesn't stop you. These two things are the first steps in your morning greeting. Followed by number three, the Fist Punch.

"G’Morning sis."

"G’Morning Bro." Another smile and Megan starts to help your mother.

Then your energy is back to zero and you sit down at the table with your father. While Megan is shoveling piles of ham and eggs onto her plate, you look from your mom to your dad and to Megan. When your mom tries to explain to your sister again and again why it is not good to eat so much cholesterol, you smile involuntarily.

• That was a good start, yes? Verry well. Keep the engine running with your likes!