“Hey, there,” says my brother.

“Hey, there!” I echo loudly before Felix can finish speaking, turning to plaster on a huge smile as he enters the room. I can hear Mom’s contagious, bubbly laughter from the kitchen. It sounds like she’s talking to herself, which means she’s probably talking to Athena, who floats from room to room with large, haunted eyes like a tragically drowned Shakespearean character who communicates in backhanded whispering. “Felix! I’ve missed you tons.”

“Aw, you liar.” He tosses a duffel bag of his belongings into my lap, which I throw off me, and takes a huge bite out of a cookie that I’m willing to bet he was just told he couldn’t eat before dinner. Mouth full, he says to Hall, “Who’re you?”

Hall is stricken. “Me?”

“Nice to meet you, Me.” Felix goes to shake his hand, but withdraws as soon as Hall sticks his out.

“Don’t be an asshole,” I snap.

“I’m not an asshole. You’re an asshole.” He considers. “Did you hear about my new movie?”

Don’t ask for details, I think forcefully in Hall’s direction, wondering when somebody’s going to notice my excellent clothes. I’m here to show off, but no one’s commented on my Ariel Gordon Dynasty Diamond Necklace ($10,950.00) made with 324 diamonds, which I’ve paired with the black vest Keanu Reeves wore in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure (priceless).

Hall doesn’t heed my unspoken plea, perking up. “What movie?” I notice that a Band-Aid has appeared on his arm, just like the one Felix has.

Felix comes alive. “Thornfield. It’s a Jane Eyre retelling, but, like, edgy. Think Jordan Peele. I’m playing the lead role, Mr. Rochester, this sophisticated recluse who keeps bringing in new governesses. But come to find out, there’s no child to teach. Then he traps their souls inside books. Whenever he wants to interact with one of them, he opens one of the books. But get this: it’s modern day. Not historical. And the latest trapped governess, Jane, is rewriting her story from inside the book, altering the fabric of Rochester’s reality.” He looks pleased with himself. “We’re pushing the limits of cinema. Some films are afraid to get too dark or weird, to really go there, but I say, what’s life without risk?”

“What’s Jane like?” I ask, unable to help myself. I know what word he’s going to use as a descriptor.

“Oh, a strong female character for sure. She’s feminine, but resilient. A real ingénue. And she dies at the end.”

There it is. Ingénue. Felix is obsessed with that word.

Felix stares at me for a moment, waiting expectantly. His expression clouds. “Congratulations, Felix,” my brother says in an imitation of my voice.

“Congratulations, Felix,” I echo robotically.

“You could at least pretend to mean it.” He stands up, shaking his head. “You know, I work really hard. At least I’m making something of myself.”

My face burns. “I’m making something of myself, too! I’m a social media influencer. Where’s my congratulations?”