Menace.

Sebastian stood in front of his full-length mirror, adjusting the collar of his designer shirt.

"Still obsessing over your reflection?" Olive called out, stepping into his room.

He narrowed his eyes at her in the glass. "Why are you still up?"

"I literally couldn't sleep," Olive said, drifting over and collapsing onto the edge of his bed. "I had way too much vintage red. I'm buzzing."

At seventeen, the Barton twins shared the same striking features, blonde hair, tanned skin, and sapphire -blue eyes, though Sebastian was taller, broader and carried a perpetual look of bored entitlement. Olive smoothed down the hem of her red slip dress.

"I'm so bored, I could scream," she muttered. "Let's hit the village and mess with the locals."

Sebastian turned, a slow smirk spreading across his face. "Bet."

Olive retreated to her room and returned five minutes later transformed. She had thrown on a jet-black wig, sheer tights and a pair of four-inch red bottoms. Strutting back into his room, she did a slow 360- degree turn. "Ate or nah?"

"Like a trollop," Sebastian scoffed. "Aesthetic is tragic, but it works."

They snuck down the marble stairs to the basement garage where their parents' collection of luxury cars sat under soft spotlights.

"Which one?" Olive asked.

Sebastian tapped a key fob against his palm. "Taking the G-wagon is too loud. Let's take the Mercedes."

Twenty minutes later, the dark back roads gave way to the dim, yellow lights of Shedley. Sebastian pulled up across from The Ram, a dingy roadside pub. Inside the place was heavy with stale draft beer and cheap cigarettes. Several regulars turned to stare as Olive strutted toward the bar, deliberately leaning against the wood counter to catch the eye of a scruffy, middle-aged trucker at a high-top table.

"Target acquired," Olive murmured to Sebastian. "This is going to be so easy."

Within minutes the trucker lumbered over in muddy work boots and a faded flannel. "Can I get you another drink?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

Olive gave him a practiced, sweet smile. "I'm good for now, but you can sit with us. I'm Rachel by the way. This is my brother, David."

"Name's Hank," he said, puffing his chest out.

Sebastian rolled his eyes discreetly, excused himself with a muttered, "Need the restroom," and slipped away.

"You're not from around here, are you, Rachel?" Hank asked, leaning in.

"Just visiting family friends for the weekend from Manhattan," Olive lied effortlessly. "It's so dead out here. Tell me there's somewhere better than this place."

"I know a few spots off the main strip that are way livelier," Hank grinned. "I can show you."

"Right now,?" Olive asked, tilting her head. "I'll just drop David off and follow you in my car. We can hang out after."

Hank agreed instantly. Sebastian returned, playing along with a fake, reluctant nod, and within ten minutes the twins were back inside the Mercedes with Hank's eighteen -wheeler trailing behind them.

The second the doors sealed, Olive collapsed into breathless laughter. "He actually fell for it. The delusion is unreal."

Sebastian steered the car off the paved road, cutting deep into an unlit logging trail before killing the engine in an overgrown clearing.

"Gun ready?" he asked.

Olive unzipped her clutch and pulled out a small black semi-automatic. "Always."

High beams flooded the Mercedes as Hank's truck rumbled to a stop behind them. The trucker hopped down from the cab and walked toward their driver-side window, entirely unaware.

"Should I do it, or do you want the honors?" Olive asked.

"Go off," Sebastian said, slouching back into the seat. "Ladies first."

Olive stepped out into the dirt, leveled the barrel squarely at Hank's chest, and let her friendly expression drop into total ice.

"What is this?" Hank stuttered, throwing his hands up as he scrambled back against his front bumper.

"Wallet. On the ground. Now," Olive commanded, her tone cold and dismissive. "Don't embarrass yourself."

"Take it, just don't shoot!" Hank dropped his leather wallet into the mud.

"Now take off your clothes," Olive said flatly. "Every single piece."

Shivering in the headlights, Hank frantically stripped off his boots, jeans, and shirt until he was left standing barefoot and terrified in the freezing gravel.

Sebastian powered his window down just enough to look out, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "god, that's vile. Truly tragic."

Olive scooped up the clothes and the wallet by the edges, stepped back into the Mercedes and slammed the door. Sebastian hit the gas, tires kicking up dirt as they sped away, leaving Hank stranded in the pitch-black woods.

Shifting through the wallet on the drive home, Olive pulled out a slim fold of cash and tossed the leather out the window into the trees.

"A hundred and eighty bucks," Olive scoffed, tossing the crumpled bills onto the console. "Literally embarrassing. That doesn't even cover parking."

"Whatever," Sebastian replied with a grin, tossing the trucker's muddy boots out his own window into the night. "Worth it for the vibe."

Writen 1 year ago and edited today 9/29/25.

Edited 8/19/26