Wake up in a very pink room

You wake up in a very pink room, with a very soft blonde snuggled up in your arms.

Who is this? Where are you?

Confused, you hold very still and take stock of your surroundings. Gradually, your memories of last night resurface.

The rave at the Popple Quench bottling plant. The Juicer Max. The BMBO Juice. And Pearl...

The nude, curvy blonde in your arm is Pearl. You're at her house. This is her room. But it's not the room you remember.

You've seen Pearl's room a hundred times - it's not much of a conversation starter. Pearl's a lowkey neat freak. She lives her life in her head. With clean floors and bare walls, the only point of interest beyond her computer desk is an overladen bookshelf full of fantasy novels and art books.

Now that you're looking, you see the similarities.

The room's layout hasn't changed. But two posters strategically occupy the previously blank walls - one of Billie Eilish, and the other of Taylor Swift.

Pearl's desk is in the same corner, but it's white instead of black. Her laptop, a PC adorned with thorny black rose stickers before, is now a MacBook, featuring white, pink, and red rose stickers instead. A much nicer pair of sound-canceling headphones have replaced her old beat-up pair.

Her bookshelf is a matching white, with the shelves far less crowded and chaotic. You couldn't slot in another book without using some muscle before, but instead of mismatched rows with books shoveled on top, Pearl's bookshelf now features neat rows of aesthetically organized books with space to display collectibles or store useful items.

The bottom two shelves mainly house fantasy novels and artbooks (with some strategically placed to display book covers), but up from there, next to the books, there's all sorts of things, like framed photos of Pearl in different places with family or friends, or little pieces of glass art and artsy nicknacks. One whole shelf is devoted to the display of a large collection of music CDs.

Your movement wakes Pearl. She grumbles incoherently beside you and pulls the covers over her head. Some things haven't changed. Pearl's as far from a morning person as you can get.

There's a sharp knock at the door. A tall, svelte woman with long, undercut green and black hair lets herself in - Pearl's older sister, Macy.

"Wakey wakey, breakfast's eggy," Macy rhymes in singsong, smiling - she's dressed in a pair of plaid PJ bottoms so long they brush the floor, and a brief cami tank top that clings to her bouncy and - to be polite - perky chest.

It's not the first time you've caught an eyeful of Macy's boobs, but it is the first time it happens while you're in bed with her sister.

Pearl bolts upright, clutching blankets to her chest, at the same time Macy realizes her 'little sister' isn't sleeping alone.

Macy's is stunned. "... Chase. Hi."

"Get out of my room!" Pearl shouts, hucking her pillow. It clobbers her sister in the face.

"Bleaugh!" Macy topples out of the room, shutting the door behind as a shield. The second pillow from Pearl's bed slams into it a second too late.

"Fuck, I wanted to sneak you out without her seeing you," grumbles Pearl.

Mortified, you point to the window. "It's not that far a drop. I can make it." You start climbing out of bed.

Pearl yanks you back down. "No. Now we gotta confront her or she'll pitch a fit. Hurry up and put on some pants."

You do as you're directed, wiggling into your jeans and t-shirt. Pearl throws on a short white robe and drags you out of her room before you find your socks.

Pearl brings you down to the kitchen dining room, where Macy's frying up the last couple strips of bacon.

Macy doesn't even look your way. "Mom's going to freak the fuck out when she finds you slept with Chase."

Pearl, hands on hips, draws herself up to her full height beside Macy - the top of her head comes even to her sister's chin. "She's not going to find out, cause you're going to tell her."

"You only have two rules, Pearl," Macy says, tut-tutting her sister. She counts them off. "So long as you're living with Mom, no staying out past curfew, and no sleepovers with boys."

"Chase is my boyfriend."

"Yeah, and he's Chase." Macy flashes you an apologetic look. "No offense. I always liked you."

"No, I get it," you demure. If a clone of yourself were dating your sister (if you had a clone, or a sister), you'd have reservations yourself.

Pearl shoots you an acidic look. "Keep your mouth shut, Wonderboy. Let me do the talking."

Her big sister groans, arching her back and bending her knees in a pose of agony. "Why couldn't you just wait till you moved out, Pearl?" bemoans Macy. "You just turned 18 like five days ago!"

"My birthday was five months ago," Pearl corrects her, chin up. "I'm an adult. And 'sides," she threads an arm around yours and pulls you close, "we love each other."

Macy rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. And you've been in love with every boy you've ever dated up till now."

Pearl turns red. "Yeah, well, Chase is different! He's chill. He's nice. AND he cares about me," she says, angrily. "Plus we were friends first. Best friends! Sleeping together was my idea, not Chase's - he kept wanting to wait!"

Macy gives a defeated sigh. "At least tell me you guys used protection."

Pearl swallows, turning pale and glancing nervously toward you. "Well, I mean..."