"If you're all about happily ever after... This is not the story for you."

Cars are driving through the streets, tall buildings are seen, you know, the usual. The camera pans all through the city, looking through apartment buildings windows, when it stops at a gap in between the apartment buildings.

"This is my city. I've seen it all. Look at that, boring people living boring lives, I'm not judging... Yeah I am. I've stared through a lot of windows. I've seen happy families, supportive families, functional families. But the best stories are in the windows where nobody looks. Look, look down."

The camera goes down to show a different house that looks quite nice. A cat walks into the camera frame, speaking.

"There they are. Hidden. I'm the Narrator, by the way. I'm a cat. Get over it, yeah? This family's story is weird, ya know, hidden away from the modern world in their old-fashioned home. I'll show you around. Fantastic mouse hunting here."

The cat walks into the garden and walks through the house, nearby a lot of portraits of people with pink hair, and pink moustaches.

"When I say old fashioned, I mean they go back a long way. A family legacy of tradition, invention, creativity, and courage. Their greatness passed down like their magnificent facial hair. From generation to generation to generation, until this one."

He stops in front of a skinny man with a really small moustache. The scene changes to the man kissing his wife, who looks very similar to him with hair and body shape. They couple dance.

"I so love being a Willoughby with you." The man smiles to his wife.

The wife responds, "Oh, Smoopsy buns. I'm so happy!"(I'm cringing writing the parent's dialogue)

As the husband purrs to his wife, the camera leaves the room, and the door closes, showing the cat again.

The cat continues, "Let's jump ahead a few months. When this loving and perfect marriage produced..."

There's a splattering sound and a baby's cries heard.

"Well, you know."

The wife asks, "What is that?

The husband frowns, "Oh, dear."

The husband walks out of the room with a naked baby girl with the same pink hair of her parents, holding her by a strip of her hair like she's diseased, and drops her on the ground.

The man frowns, "I am your father. And that sweet woman that you insulted with your rude birth is Mother." The little girl coos, but the Father shushes her, putting his foot on her forhead to shut her up. "If you need love, I beg of you, find it elsewhere. Thank you." He turns to walk away, then stops. "Oh, you are Y/N. And you are a Willoughby. Good day."

The man runs back to his wife, leaving the girl on the floor, cold.

"Her loving parents had no love left over for Y/N. All they gave her was her name."

The girl turns to the pictures and gasps in awe at her ancestors. Suddenly, time skips forward many years.

"Oh, and siblings. A brother named Tim..." Tim gasps in awe at the pictures of Willoughbys. "A sister named Jane..."

Jane starts humming, causing both Tim and Y/N to cover her mouth.

Tim whispers panicked, "Shush! Our parents will here you!"

"... and twin brothers, both named Barnaby. They're creepy."

A Barnaby throws his sweater to the other Barnaby to warm him up. They share a sweater.

"Thanks Barnaby." 

"You're welcome, Barnaby."

Jane asks, "Why are we staring at this wall?"

Y/N doesn't answer. To be honest, She doesn't know either. Tim wanted them all to watch the wall for some reason.

Tim answers, "Because, Jane, we are Willoughbys."

I have no idea why I started writing this. Oh wait, yes I do. There weren't many other sibling Willoughby stories.