Chapter Text
Mickey loved his sister. He truly did. He might say that she was a skank, she was stupid, she was clumsy, or that he totally couldn't suffer her, but they were all lies. Yet, whenever that dumb bitch jumped on the 'let's bust Mickey's balls with my stupid shit' wagon, he'd always feel that strong impulse to choke the life out of her.
Of course he couldn't do such a thing, so in the last years he had managed to develop this awesome skill that is basically turning her fucking voice off.
"You can't always spend your days at home, Mick. Look at you, you're getting fat; you're not a fucking teenager anymore. You can't just eat junk food and drink that much beer and... Are you fucking listening to me?! Spit that fucking onion ring out!"
Mickey wasn't paying attention to his sister's ramblings, and he was lazily eating the cold leftovers of the onion rings he had bought the day before from that greasy place down the corner. He gulped down the soggy fried piece and washed the awful taste away with a sip of his beer.
"What the fuck, Mick!"
Mandy hit the table with her fist, finally getting her brother's attention.
"What?" he spat.
She sighed and shook her head. "You can't do this shit, Mick. This is… Not healthy. Except when you’re dealing, you’re always home. I don’t live with you anymore, so I can’t always keep an eye on you. You eat and drink and watch television. You don’t have a life.”
Mickey shrugged. “It’s none of your goddamn business what I do or don’t,” he said, wiping the grease from his face with the hem of his jumper. It was already stained and in need of a washing anyway.
His sister grimaced. “You’re such a pig.”
“And you’re a bitch.”
“I may be one, but at least I'm not wasting my entire existence like you are.”
Mickey decided to avoid any further conversation by moving to the couch. He put his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. Mandy rolled her eyes but dropped the subject, at least for the moment. She instead grabbed a magazine from her purse and sat down next to her brother.
“You stink, by the way,” she said because she just couldn’t help it.
“You too; your perfume makes me puke.”
Mandy elbowed him in the rib cage and started to read, putting on a show of completely ignoring that stupid brother of hers.
They remained in a peaceful silence, with Mickey eating Cheese Balls directly from the jar and Mandy deep in reading her favorite magazine, Joy. When his sister wasn’t so determined to talk his ears off, she was a good companion. She’d just sit in silence next to him, and sometimes they’d play some video game. If only she could keep her mouth shut…
“You know. This article seems made for you,” she said, interrupting the quiet and peace in the room.
Mickey sighed. “Oh yeah? Is it about men who kill their annoying sisters?”
She looked at him, bemused. “No, dickhead. They’re holding the selection for the next My Fair.”
He frowned. “My what?”
“My Fair. Last was My Fair Hally; she just finished her year—well, ten months actually—with great success. She lost so many pounds, and she looks awesome. I mean, when she started, she was this fat, middle-aged lady who couldn’t keep a man even if she tried. But look now.”
She showed Mickey the page she was reading, pointing at one picture of this caramel-skinned woman with fantastic teeth who looked more like a diva than a mother of three.
“Hally just let herself go, you know? Like you.” She obtained a sneer from her brother. “She has three kids and an alienating job—well, not anymore; she’s a dentist’s assistant now, and she loves it. She’d taken classes but never applied for the job, can you believe it? - Anyway, she got selected for My Fair 2015, and now she looks awesome!”
“What’s this shit anyway?” he asked. He wasn’t really interested, but she seemed to be, and he much preferred Mandy rambling about this magazine thing rather than about him.
Mandy smiled. “Glad you asked. It’s this, you know, before and after thing? If you get selected, they’ll spend time and resources for ten fucking months trying to help you achieve a better version of yourself. Like in the movie My Fair Lady, we watched it together, remember?”
Oh yes, he did remember. The characters fucking sang. He thought that shit was just in the Disney movies.
“For each selected individual, of course, it’s different. Hally just needed a little push to find her past self and be again ambitious and totally kick-ass. The 2014 contestant, this Bridget? Brittany? Whatever. She was this stupid chick always chewing on her gum who couldn’t say one sentence without using ‘like’ every two words. Horrible. They spent so many weeks just to improve her diction. Like in the movie, The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plane, right? She had great green hair, though. They made her go back to being a brunette. But she looked so cute. She found a boyfriend in the end, a really great guy. I think they’re still together.”
“Huh. Good for her.”
“Absolutely! You think so too, right? They start around January with the first interview and then once every month. Plus, on their website, you can check how they’re doing. You can watch their videos, for example. Pictures, and so on and so forth. Some are fucking funny, especially in the beginning when they haven’t seen a gym in ages. Others are… No. Really, some are so moving. I could show you one if you want—”
“Hold your horses, sis. Don’t fucking care.” Mickey decided to stop her from trying to get him involved in watching videos together. Last time she had succeeded, he had had to go through several funny cat videos, and fuck if now he hated cats. Damn furry, adorable things.
She sighed. “Oh, c’mon, Mick. They’re such nice stories. These people… they managed to turn their lives around. Don’t you think it’s great? I think it is. I mean, take yourself, for example. You’re a loser right now. You should lose those fifty-sixty pounds.”
“Hey!”
“And get in shape again, dress better and cleaner, and maybe also learn how to talk without cursing—”
“Fuck you!”
“My point exactly. Also, you could get a job? You could at least get your GED. That wouldn’t be bad, would it?”
Mickey shrugged. Deep down he knew that she was only saying the truth, but that didn’t mean he wanted to follow her advice. He was good there, in his pigsty. Why bother? He was fucked up for life anyway.
“You’d make such a good new My Fair.”
And that’s when Mickey finally caught the drift while holding a few Cheese Balls in his hand.
“Excuse me?”
Mandy smiled. “Look, you’re already expressing yourself better.”
Mickey’s eyes widened.
“Fuck no!”
Mandy had a half-smirk going on, as if she wasn’t sure whether to grin or run for her dear life.
“Why not! You’d make the perfect candidate! I can already imagine the snapshots ‘before’ and ‘after’!”
Mickey threw the Cheese Balls at her.
“Fuck you, bitch! You should do the show; you dress like a slut.”
“But you need it more than I do! I want to help you, you assface!” she retorted. She grabbed a handful of Cheese Balls and threw them at Mickey. He replied by doing the same.
They threw Cheese Balls at each other for several minutes before Mickey spoke again.
“Don’t even mention the fucking My Fair shit, you got it?” he said, huffing and puffing because, hell, he was really out of shape. Cholesterol and smoking were tough on his body.
Mandy nodded and went to the bathroom to wash off the cheese powder from her hair.
“Not gonna mention it again, all right,” she conceded and went to sit back on the couch. She put away her magazine and spent the whole afternoon in her brother’s company watching stupid crap on television.
Mickey really thought the My Fair topic was over. What a stupid thing to believe.
***
Mandy disconnected the call. It was only when she was sure nobody was listening to her that she whispered.
“Shit.”
Now what was she going to do? Maybe she should call them back and tell them that he was sick or something. But she had already said yes…
Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.
What was she supposed to do now?
She had done it for him, but now she felt like the wicked witch of that Dorothy girl. He was so going to eat her alive.
Mandy took her time deciding what to do. She rocked the chair she was sitting on back and forth. Thinking about it, she was safe for the moment, hiding in her apartment. Then all she had to do was buy a very resistant lock for the door and strong bars for all the windows. Oh, and never get out of her apartment, like, ever again. Totally doable.
She sighed.
She had given them all his details, so it was only a matter of time before they’d reach out to him. She must tell him first. Maybe also reminding him that she knew that deep down he loved her.
“Oh, hell.”
She unlocked her phone and picked her brother’s number from her contacts. She hoped he was in a good mood.
“Not a good time,” Mickey immediately answered.
So much for the good mood.
“You don’t have a bit of your time for your beloved sister?”
She could feel his eye rolling.
“The fuck do you want?”
“Yes, huh.” She faked the best cheerful voice she could muster. “Congratulations, bro! You won!”
“The fuck?”
“You never won anything. So aren’t you happy? Lucky you!”
“Skank, what the fuck are you on about?” Mickey’s voice appeared rather irritated. Mandy braced herself for hearing him screaming instead.
“Huh, you remember that thing I told you about a month ago, the magazine… the selection for the next My Fair—”
“Yeah. So what? Mands, I need to go, just spit it out.” Mickey took pause, and Mandy bit her bottom lip. Mickey just got it. “Bitch, what the fuck did you do!?”
“I’m so sorry, Mick!" She shouted. "I was home with my friend, and we thought it would be funny to put you in the competition… So we just sent them your details, pictures… It’s not my fault if they have chosen you to be the next My Fair!”
The yelling and curses that followed right after made Mandy regret always meddling so much in her brother’s life.