The broom was finally abandoned on the floor, still standing upright like a tragic monument to Mom's panic.
Denver slumped into a chair at the dining table, rubbing her temples like her brain had just glitched. Dion sat across from her, phone forgotten, staring like he was watching a live anime transformation scene. Mom hovered nearby, arms crossed, looking like she was one heartbeat away from either crying or calling an exorcist.
"Okay, calm down. Breathe. You survived math class. You can survive this."
"Okay," Denver said, running a hand through her, well, his hair. "I'll explain. The reason I woke up like this… it's because I might have received a curse."
Mom gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "A curse?! As in… demons? Black magic? Did you anger a witch? Did you touch something suspicious on the internet?!"
"Why is the internet always blamed for everything…"
"No! It's not like that!" Denver groaned. "You know about gifts, right? Those super rare abilities people get. Super strength, telekinesis, elemental stuff. Only a tiny fraction of the population has them."
Dion leaned forward instantly, eyes sparkling. "Wait-wait. Are you saying… you're like a real gift user? For real? Like the ones on YouTube and documentaries?"
"Great. I've awakened the nerd."
"Well… technically, maybe," Denver said, hesitating. "But a curse is the opposite. It doesn't give you powers. It messes with your existence in… extremely inconvenient ways. And apparently, in my case… it turned me into a girl."
Mom dropped into a chair like someone had unplugged her legs. "So my son is now my daughter, I spent seventeen years buying boy clothes. Seventeen, years."
"Are you fr? she's more upset about the clothes budget than my situation... Wow!"
Dion stared at Denver like she was a mythical creature. "…No wonder you were acting weird this morning. But of all the curses, you turned into a hot chick."
"You little prick, shut it! You are NOT helping!" Denver snapped. "Yes, unfortunately, I'm a cursed user. Congratulations, Dion. Your dream has come true. You now have an extremely ultra-rare supernatural being living in this house."
Dion's eyes were sparkling now, half shock, half excitement. "No way… That's… incredible! I mean, wow. You're a real cursed user! That's… that's insane!... Is that the reaction you were looking for? Well, I'd get it if it was Mom, but you? Hell nah."
Denver clenched her fists. "Just tell me honestly you're amazed, right? Don't lie. You're obsessed with Gift users, I know you are." she said in a mocking tone, trying to intimidate him.
Mom suddenly slammed her hands on the table. "Enough! Denver, stop bullying Dion! and Dion, stop treating this like an anime convention! Your brother or sister or whatever is clearly traumatized!"
She pointed at Denver dramatically. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to change a child's wardrobe budget in this economy?!"
"There it is again the budget trauma."
Dion looked away, scratching his cheek. "Alright, alright… sorry. But still, you're one of the few curse users in the world. That's… kind of amazing."
Denver stared at him. "…Amazing? You do realize this could be the start of a lifetime of trouble, right? I don't even know what other effects this curse has."
Dion leaned back, trying to look cool but clearly excited. "Yeah, but think about it. You're officially supernatural. It's just a matter of time before you end up on TV like those people I watch on YouTube."
Mom groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Please don't end up on TV I am not ready to explain this to my relatives."
"Imagine family reunions. Auntie: "So you're a girl now?" Me: "Yes." End conversation."
Denver noticed Dion looking away, clearly trying to hide his excitement. A faint smirk tugged at her lips. Somehow, even in chaos, his awe made this feel a little less terrifying.
She still had to figure out what the curse is, how to reverse it or how to survive it.
But for now… maybe this disaster wasn't entirely hopeless and maybe… just maybe, it could even be fun.
Then the dining room fell into silence for a moment.
Denver kept stealing glances at Dion, expecting excitement, panic or anything. But Dion just leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, expression flat.
"…So you're cursed," he said, tone bored. "Okay."
Denver blinked. "That's it?"
Mom stared at him. "That's your reaction? Your sibling just turned into a supernatural phenomenon."
Dion shrugged. "Stuff happens."
"Liar." Denver knew that tone. Dion always used it when he didn't want anyone to know what he was feeling.
He avoided her eyes, staring at the wall like this was just another Tuesday. But his fingers were tapping rapidly on the table fast, nervous.
"He's freaking out," Denver realized. "He's just pretending not to care."
Mom sighed, rubbing her temples again. "You two are unbelievable. One turns into a girl overnight, the other acts like the world didn't just flip upside down."
Dion clicked his tongue. "Overreacting won't fix anything."
Denver narrowed her eyes. "You're acting weird."
"I always act like this."
"No, you don't. You're usually loud and annoying."
"…Shut up."
Mom frowned. "Dion, say something supportive."
He looked away, jaw tightening. "What do you want me to say? 'Wow big bro, you're magical now'? That's stupid."
The words were harsh, but his voice was controlled and careful.
Denver leaned closer. "You're lying."
Dion stiffened. "About what?"
"You're a gift user fanatic you even cry over superhero documentaries. You literally cried when that cursed user manga character died."
Mom blinked. "He cried?"
Dion slammed his hand on the table. "I DID NOT CRY."
"Yes you did. You brought tissues to the TV room."
Mom slowly turned her head toward him.
Dion's ears turned red he looked away again, muttering, "…It was allergies."
Denver smirked.
"There it is."
Dion exhaled slowly, eyes closed for a second like he was mentally resetting his persona. When he opened them again, the usual cool, detached mask was back.
"…Fine," he muttered. "It's kinda… interesting."
"Interesting?" Denver repeated.
"Yeah... Cursed users are rare, almost myth-level rare and you just became one, statistically, that's insane."
Mom blinked. "So you're impressed?"
He hesitated for half a second.
"…Don't misunderstand, I'm just stating facts."
Denver felt a weird warmth in her chest.
"He's proud. He's just terrible at showing it."
Mom sighed, defeated. "I raised two emotionally defective children."
Dion stood up, heading toward his room. At the door, he paused.
"Hey… Don't die from the curse or something," he said quietly. "That'd be annoying."
Then he walked away.
Denver stared after him.
"He really is bad at being honest."
But she smiled anyway.