Two sides to this story, but I bet I can lie better.

In a few hours, I have to face my ultimate enemy: my sister. She's my archnemesis, my opposite in every way.

We're supposed to meet at my friend Fianna's flat, but I've run out of things to distract me until our meeting. The place is spotless, except for Fianna's maniacal polka-dot throw pillows.

I've thrown out garbage, vacuumed the life out of the carpet, and ruined the careful creations of the house spiders. Everything alarming, like Fianna's violently pink bong and her oddly named candles, has been stashed in places guests wouldn't look.

Every vase (and there are many) in Fianna's flat now holds my carefully folded origami roses. Aesthetically pleasing, and a better use of Fianna's discarded bills.

I'm turning in circles now, like a shark at Seaworld, trying to figure out what to do. It has to be something active because I couldn't sit through the Netflix logo to distract myself. No TV or books can get my mind off it, my first meeting with my sister in almost a year.

So I do what I've always done: I run away. The city, and its crowds live right outside Fianna's door.

In a few steps, I'm swept in the city's unique embrace. The people, the smells, the warmth of concrete and car exhaust.

It's more of an embrace than I've ever received from my own family. Gravity barely registers as I float down avenues, pulled by the city's magnetic hold. Strangers that are future friends, the busy and the travellers accompany me on my well-worn journey through downtown.

There's Gabe, owner of the shawarma cart, who always gives me free food. In exchange, I bring plenty of customers. Mostly the customers who I deliver various services to.

My parents, who lived by the high school-college-permanent job and marriage model of life would be stunned speechless by my lifestyle. A temporary, fickle life, where every day demands trust falls with friends I barely know. A life that exists solely due to people wanting a good time and being happy to celebrate every day with you.

It's all changing, moving, like the city itself does. I note that my favourite pet shop, where I spend nights watching over hamsters, is closing soon. Better get those cuddles from Sir Samster now.

I breathe in the city's air, feeding off its energy. Like a plant in the sun, the city's gentle heartbeat of honking cars and construction makes my own heart beat.

Why would I ever leave? I high five Grace, and drop all the coins in my pocket into the plate in front of her.

"It's going to rain," Grace tells me, and I laugh.

"Your knee hurts?" I asked, swinging around a streetlight to grin at her.

Grace shakes her head. "Library TV said so."

"Thanks for the tip!" I yell over my shoulder, crossing the street. A car just barely misses me, and I ignore the driver's rude yell.

If the city wanted me dead, it would do it already. Nothing like a parent, that can keep you alive and slowly kill you every day. Each day driving you one step closer to ripping out your own life support.

My day job, and night job I guess, start at Brandon's shop.

"I need a message delivered to Misha." Brandon hands me a note.

I stuff it in my pocket. "The cops bugged his phones again?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Brandon scoffs. "Like I'd tell you. And, hand this off to a party, eighth street, apartment number 141."

I shrug, taking the small package too. "I'm taking a doughnut as payment." I point at a doughnut bedazzled with sprinkles and a creamy blue glaze. "That one, please and thank you."

"It's your goddamn blood glucose." Brandon's had a bad mood before we met, but since he's also developed kidney stones, diabetes, and some blood pressure issues.

"Quality of life over quantity." I lick the glaze. "But more sprinkles, more quality of life. Enjoy your life of crime!"

"Either get serious or get out, dumbass." Brandon rolled his eyes as I pushed against the door to leave.

The doughnut doesn't last long, but it's enough to sustain me 'till I drop off the note to Misha. There are some cops dressed in very clean gangster clothes outside of Misha's bar, so I slap on a hat and grab a box from a dumpster before going in.

Natalie, who's wiping off beer glasses, grins at me when I come in, sliding the note to her.

"For Misha," I explain, always charmed by her. She's working her way through college, and never judges anyone.

"Aw, our hero." Nat grins and then leans forward. "Things are getting a little...hot around here, so I'd stay away for the next little bit." She means the FBI or cops or whoever is stalking the bar this time.

I pouted, playing along. "And not see you? Should you be here?"

"I'm not abandoning my guy." Nat winks, displaying a ring on her finger. I whistle, examining the substantial diamond. Crime pays well, it seems. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

I pick up my box, and we finish our little act.

"No, this isn't ours. Why would we order this?" Nat asks loudly, once we're out the door, looking intently at a receipt.

"I'm sorry ma'am, this was the address!" I argue, sounding bewildered.

"Well, I'm not paying for this garbage. Go away, or I'll call you manager. We don't have enough to deal with around here?" Nat snaps, pointing a finger into the distance.

I grin as I walk away. Rather than paying for a degree Misha won't let her do anything with, she should become an actress.

The next stop is a lot less stressful. One old pizza box, and the landlady buzzes me up. I don't even have to read the numbers, the walls of flat 141 are shaking like the diaphragm of a speaker with loud music.

"Oh, finally! Now the party can really get started." A guy drenched in cheap beer answers the door, accepting the package.

"From Brandon," I grinned, waving at the partiers inside, and refusing his money. "He'll collect later."

An old lady gives me an evil eye as I leave, and I grin, handing her one of my origami roses.

My nerves are a little calmer after all the fun of this morning. Walking around for a couple of hours on the pavement is the better anxiety killer, I find.

My phone buzzes, and reluctantly I glance at it. Phones are the antithesis of freedom. Nobody lives anymore, they just get glued to their tiny, glowing, buzzing masters.

The idea of glowing bees that mind control us seizes me for a moment, and my fingers twitch with the desire to scribble it on a wall or sketchbook. But wait, the phone is the queen bee, and we're all mind-controlled workers. No, ugh, that idea isn't as cool, what if the little phone is a bee, and it eats its way into the brain. Wait, isn't there a parasite-

My phone buzzes again and I glare at it. A true creativity buster.

Fianna's sent a message in all caps. SHE'S HERE.

There is only one she that would terrify Fianna so much. My little sister, the terror of no-good, unambitious people everywhere.

To be fair, Fianna was extremely hard working, but I doubted my lawyer-in-training, meticulously organized sister would see her dance career as something useful.

I sprint to catch a bus going back the way I came, depositing an old, wrinkled bus ticket into the box. My smile gets me out of trouble, no matter what I do, and it works now too, as I squeeze my way into a seat between two people.

People are so interesting. No, people are so boring. Groups are interesting, crowds are interesting, mobs...mobs are dangerous.

Seeing my stop shakes me out of this too. I switch buses, my knee bouncing up and down on the second bus. Even if these buses travelled at the speed of light, I wouldn't get back in under an hour.

When I finally did make it, I ran down the street, and swung my way up the three steps that led to Fianna's floor level flat.

Panting, I entered the place, staring up at Fianna's beautifully decorated face. Neon pink eyeshadow, and dramatic under-eye eyeliner.

"You look nice." I gasped for air, grinning at Fianna.

"You'll look nice too, when the coroner's done with you." Fianna replied somberly and I frowned at her, alarmed.

"Your sister is pacing in my drawing-room." Fianna jerked her thumb back to point me to my doom. "Good luck." Then she left, gliding away with her dancer's grace to her workplace.

"I'm so sorry-" I started, entering the drawing room.

"That you're an hour and a half late to our meeting?" My sister demanded, arms crossed tightly. "You know a judge would hold you in contempt right?"

I smiled at her placatingly, but it didn't work. Damn sisters and their damn immunity to bullshit.

"Don't try that shit on me. I have no idea how other people deal with you, but don't think I'm that stupid." Nika snapped, and I noticed she looked tired and a lot older. We were two years apart, but someone who didn't know us could mistake her for being much older.

I perched on the edge of the couch. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be late, I just caught up-"

"With work?" Nika asked, leaning against the counter table. "What work could you get with an incomplete third of a degree and no address?"

"You'd be surprised." I grinned, then killed it, when her sour look got worse. "Did you just come here to yell at me?"

Apparently, she had come all this way from her fancy law office to scream. "Don't do that. Don't act like you're some tortured victim, when you have no responsibilities and abandoned your family."

"Abandoned my family?" I laughed incredulously. "You mean when they kicked me out, right? I had to be true to-"

"They said, either grow up or leave. Who chooses to be homeless rather than work hard?" Nika growled, dragging a hand through her hair. "And please, true to yourself? You're dreaming! You have no goals, no ambition-"

"-no desire to lecture anybody else on how to live." I rolled my eyes. "What, did one of our actual parents die and leave you in charge or something? Or are you just mad because I'm a little late?"

"A little late?" Nika echoed angrily. "I'm angry because you left me to deal with them! I'm angry because my older sister up and disappeared-"

"So leave too. There's your solution." I declared, sighing deeply. I hate arguing. It's so tiring, and I never got the hang of the whole being angry thing.

"Not everyone abandons their family." Nika replied icily. "And some of us need cash to pursue an actual career."

This was so boring. I impatiently slid fully onto the couch. "Would you stop saying I abandoned my family? They were just an incorrect family, I found a much better one now."

"Please tell me you're not referring to the bartender and her gangbanger boyfriend-"

"Fiancee." I corrected. "And no, not just Nat, there are others too. My family, the city. So I didn't abandon anyone, I just left people who also didn't want me. 'Twas a mutual leaving."

"Yeah, you screwed up our family before doing that. You told mom about dad's affair-"

"-nobody should live a lie." I shrugged, but Nika kept ploughing on.

"-you called the cops on our uncle-"

"Because he made you uncomfortable! I did it for you, I fixed your problem." I rolled my eyes, stretching my neck. My knee started bouncing again.

"Oh please! I told you to leave it alone!" Nika shouted, the tendons in her neck tight. "You think you're some kind of hero, some honest, better person, but you're not! You're a terrible, manipulative, maniac."

I stared at her. "Well that's just mean. Did I call you any names? No. I helped fix your problem with our handsy uncle, and fixed mom and dad's sham of a marriage."

"Adults deal with problems maturely. They don't blow everything up when they feel like it!" Nika rubbed her eyes, smudging her carefully applied makeup. "You just didn't want to listen, or be there for anyone."

She was killing my natural high. "You look tired. Are you sure it's all worth it, this suffering, responsibility?"

Nika glared at me, cheeks turning red with rage.

"Are you angry?" I asked, and she swore at me. "Okay, okay, sorry." The urge to smile was overwhelming, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to stop it.

"I came to see if you were ready to come back, to grow up and catch up with real life. You're clearly too busy, doing whatever this is."

"You mean my life?" I drawled. "The one actually worth living, where I don't have to represent liars and corporate thieves to get by?" I raised an eyebrow.

Nika blinked hard, then dragged a chair over and sat down on it. "Listen to me, why are you doing this?"

"Hmm?"

"Everyone knows the world is a shitty place. But nobody gets hung up on it, we all just move the hell on."

"Like you moved on from what our uncle did?" I rested my chin on my hand, looking up at her.

Nika's eyes berayed the first sign of hurt. "No. I mean, we all know that some shitty things happen. And we live, and we move on and follow the damn rules. Why do you, alone, feel the need to fixate on them?"

"You know why I like superheroes?"

Nika's hopeful look dimmed. "Can you just-"

"Because their origin stories are so simple. Parents died, or uncle died, or something bad happened once. Nothing in the grand scheme of things, but they make it their mission to fix everything. They make little events matter."

"I need your help. You want to save someone, come help save our family, save me from having to deal with everything. Please." Nika pleaded.

She didn't know what they did to me. I reminded myself, lounging on the couch. Bruises fade, but even if I wanted to, the only proof is in my head. Lawyer as she was, she always saw me as an unreliable witness, and my proof was only my word.

There were so many promises I'd broken. Maybe a good person wouldn't have done that. Maybe it was just an excuse.

"I'm always here for you, Niks." I didn't look her in the eye. The room's turning grey from the clouds outside. Grace was right, it is going to rain. "But I'm never coming back."

"I hate you." Nika snarled, getting up. "You've never cared about me, and you never listen to me."

"See you in a year." I called after her, and heard the wall shake as she slammed the door.

Then my city and I watched the rain pour. Trying to wash away the dirt.

But some of the grime will always remain.

I sighed, and gasped when I saw the dust streaks that Nika's fancy shoes had dragged in.

My next mission was right in front of me. "I just cleaned that!" I complained, trying to locate a mop or something.

I liked being there for Fianna, helping her pay her rent, or keep her house neat. She was such a great friend to me too.

So I wiped away the dust and dirt that Nika's visit had brought, restoring the shine to the faux wood floors.