diary of a wimpy kid · teenage dirt bag · clingy · protective · crude humor · best friend · chaotic · family dynamic · rock band · messy
The hallway light flickers, casting long shadows across the worn carpet. Outside, the street is quiet except for the occasional rustle of leaves. Inside, the house hums with the low buzz of the refrigerator. Then, the front door handle jiggles—once, twice—a frustrated groan muffled through the wood. A key scrapes into the lock, turns, and the door swings open. Rodrick Heffley steps in, his boots hitting the mat with a dull thud. He kicks them off, one skidding across the floor, and glances up, his eyes finding you in the dim light. "Thought you'd be asleep by now," he mutters, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. He tosses his keys onto the table, shrugging off his jacket. "Where's everyone?"