The Roosevelt mansion gates swung open with a satisfying
hum. Out walked Sofia Roosevelt, her iced coffee in hand, designer shades on,
hips swaying like she was stepping onto a runway. She tilted her chin up at the
morning sun, sighing as if the entire neighborhood existed solely for her to
grace with her presence.
On the other side, the Astor gates groaned open. A low growl
of an engine roared alive. Louis Astor zoomed his motorbike out, purposely
letting the exhaust bark louder than necessary. He slowed just enough to give
Sofia the smuggest smirk.
Sofia pulled down her shades, glaring.
"Really, Astor? Does your bike roar like that to compensate
for your lack of… well, everything else?"
Louis parked the bike with a spin, flicked his keys, and
shot back, "Funny. You sound jealous. Want me to take you for a ride so you
don't look like a sad little queen sipping coffee alone?"
Sofia scoffed. "Ride? Please. I don't climb onto cheap
second-hand toys. I prefer things that don't break down after a month."
Students weren't around, but the neighbors were. Curtains
rustled, old Mrs. Kensington peeked out from her balcony like she'd tuned into
a live TV drama.
The driveway tension thickened.
And then—
"Louis!" a booming voice cut through the air. Mr. Astor
stepped out of his mansion, tugging at his expensive but slightly outdated
suit. "Do you have to rev that death machine every morning? The smell of oil is
ruining my garden!"
Mrs. Roosevelt, in a silk robe that shimmered as if it
belonged at an awards show, strutted out of her mansion next door. "Oh, please.
Your so-called garden already smells like fertilizer mixed with despair. Don't
blame our air for your poor choice of roses."
Mr. Astor's eyes narrowed. "Better roses than that tasteless
golden fountain you bribed the architect to install. A naked cupid spitting
water? Tacky, Eleanor. Very tacky."
Mrs. Roosevelt gasped dramatically, clutching her pearls.
"It is called art, you uncultured mushroom. Something your wife wouldn't
understand even if it fell on her head."
"Excuse me?" Mrs. Astor came marching out, hair in rollers,
apron tied around her waist, holding a ladle like a weapon. "I'll have you know
my kitchen alone has more class than your entire gaudy palace!"
"Oh really?" Mrs. Roosevelt lifted her chin. "Funny, because
my chef's soufflé aroma travels across the street every evening and puts your
greasy kitchen to shame." She waved toward Sofia. "Isn't that right, darling?"
Sofia smirked, tossing her hair. "Facts."
Louis chuckled darkly, stepping closer. "Yeah? Well, at
least my family doesn't cheat at every competition. Remember the Christmas
light contest? You literally hired electricians from Paris just to win."
Sofia jabbed her manicured finger at him. "Because we can
afford quality. Unlike your sad little flickering bulbs that looked like dying
fireflies!"
Their fathers squared up. Their mothers screeched like rival
peacocks. Sofia and Louis were nose-to-nose now, insults flying like knives.
"You were a mistake, Astor."
"You were an accident, Roosevelt."
"No wonder your dad's hairline runs away from your family
name."
"At least my mom doesn't buy love with diamond bracelets."
It was chaos. Pure chaos.
Until—
"HEY!" A tired, grumpy voice rang out from across the
street. Mr. Kensington, the poor neighbor, stood in his pajamas, holding a
trash bag. "For heaven's sake! Some of us like to sleep without your soap opera
every morning. If you don't quiet down, I'm reporting this circus to the
neighborhood committee!"
The entire street froze.
Slowly, like predators spotting fresh prey, both the
Roosevelts and the Astors turned their heads in unison toward Mr. Kensington.
Louis cracked his knuckles. Sofia adjusted her shades. Their
parents all glared like hawks.
For once, the two rival families shared the same thought.
How dare he interrupt their war?
The poor neighbor gulped, realizing he might've just poked
two lions at once.
The street went dead silent.
Slowly, like predators catching a scent, both families
turned their heads toward him.
Sofia slid her shades back on. Louis crossed his arms. Their
parents glared in unison.
For once, there was no Roosevelt vs. Astor. There was only
us vs. him.
Louis smirked first. "Report us? Cute. You think the
committee's gonna side with you when both families own half the neighborhood?"
Sofia added sweetly, "Oh, Mr. Kensington. Maybe worry about
your sad little lawn before criticizing ours. Those weeds are practically
waving at me every morning."
Her mother chimed in, "Exactly! His tulips look like they've
been crying for years."
Mr. Astor snorted, "And don't get me started on that
pathetic plastic flamingo by his mailbox. It's an eyesore."
Mr. Kensington's jaw dropped. "What—? That flamingo is
heritage!"
Louis stepped forward, eyes glinting. "Heritage of what?
Poor taste?"
Sofia laughed and gave Louis a quick approving nod—an
unspoken nice one.
The entire Roosevelt-Astor clan advanced like a single army.
Mocking his lawn, his curtains, his squeaky garage door. The poor neighbor
backed up, clutching his trash bag like a shield.
Mrs. Roosevelt delivered the finishing blow. "Darling, if
you want peace, perhaps move to another neighborhood. This street is for people
with style."
Mrs. Astor smirked, ladle pointing like a judge's gavel.
"Seconded."
Mr. Kensington stood frozen, realizing he'd just united two
rival families against him.
For a fleeting second, Sofia and Louis exchanged a
grin—enemies, yes, but united in their shared superiority.
Then, just as fast, the grin vanished. They both turned on
each other again.
"Don't think this makes us allies, Astor."
"Relax, Roosevelt. I'd rather side with a cockroach than
you."
The war lines were drawn back. But for a hilarious moment,
the battlefield had shifted.
-------
SOFIA : WE HATE EACH OTHER
LOUIS : YEAH THAT'S RIGHT , BUT ONLY WE GET TO HATE EACHOTHER NO ONE ELSE
*BOTH SOFIA AND LOUIS SMIRK INTERNALLY*
PLEASE SUPPORT,
WITH CHAOS,
🤜SOFIA AND LOUIS🤛