Cable Guy Confidential

Lila's older brother Jason had been acting weird all week. First, the giant bottle of gummy vitamin C appeared on his nightstand. Then the mystery cable—black, braided, ridiculously long—snaked from his room down the hallway like a tech tentacle.

"What's with the vitamins?" Lila asked, leaning against his doorframe. "You never take supplements."

Jason barely looked up from his phone. "Just trying to be healthy, Lil. Go away."

Red flag. Her brother, the guy who survived on energy drinks and takis, was suddenly worried about his immune system? And that cable wasn't for his gaming setup—she'd checked. It disappeared under his bed, connected to nothing she could identify.

Wednesday night, she went full spy mode. Mom was at her yoga class, Dad was working late, perfect window for operation. Lila crept down the hall, phone flashlight dim, heart hammering like she was breaking into Fort Knox instead of her brother's room.

The cable was still there, coiled like a black snake. She followed it with her light, expecting to find something sketchy. A hidden camera? Secret server? Evidence of a double life?

Under Jason's bed, glowing softly in the darkness, sat the most absurd setup she'd ever seen. The cable connected to a ring light propped on a shoebox, which illuminated a desk mirror surrounded by her old makeup—foundation she'd been looking for since September, mascara she thought she'd lost, the expensive highlighter she'd saved up for.

And there was Jason, sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching a YouTube tutorial titled "How to Perfect Your Eboy Eyeliner."

"I'M EXPOSING YOU!" she yelled, and Jason nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Wait—Lila, I can explain—"

"You're stealing my makeup!" She was laughing so hard she had to grab the doorframe. "And the vitamins? For your skin?"

Jason's face was the exact color of a ripe tomato. "There's this guy in my history class," he mumbled. "And he, like, actually looks good. I just wanted to see if I could... I don't know, up my game?"

The cable made sense now. Ring light power. The vitamins—collagen gummies, not vitamin C at all. Her brother, the hopeless baseball bro, was secretly attempting a glow-up because he had a crush.

"Jason," she said, still grinning, "you used WAY too much foundation."

"I know," he groaned. "That's why I need your help."

Lila slid into the room, crossing her legs beside him. "Okay. But you're buying replacement makeup. And you're never telling anyone I helped you perfect your eboy aesthetic."

"Deal."

"Also," she added, "those vitamins are expired. You're literally eating two-year-old gummies."

"WAIT, REALLY?"

"Gotcha."

Some secrets were worth keeping. Others? Definitely worth exposing.