so do you remember max and billy's car scene in stranger things season 2 and their dynamic in general, i kinda wanna something similar, but instead of max we have garret(anthrophromorphic grey wolf with rusty-brown hair on his scalp and, twink build, bright blue eyes) and instead of billy, we have his brother connor(anthromorphic grey wolf with black hair on his scalp and black hairy armpits, athletic build like billy from stranger things, bright blue eyes the same as connor), recreate the billy waiting for max, and that scene in the car and their "hate" for each other with connor being almost afraid but acting nonchalant towards his brother, while connor' simple demenaour idnetical to billy scares him and connor, with a ciggarete is calming saying like "you're a piece of shit, but we're a family so i have to look after you" saying that part calmly and nonchalantly like a matter-of-fact almost like annoyed that it is true, and garret is sarcastic like "oh! lucky me!" and connor grabs his arm and stares at him dead-in-the-eye and says what billy said i dont remember

Chapter 2: Projector Light Confessions

"Afraid I can't. Around this time, Dad usually drinks himself into a coma. Gotta make sure someone takes care of him."

Connor stared straight ahead, his paw resting on the gear shift. His expression didn’t change.

Garret stood frozen on the curb, skateboard clutched to his chest like a shield. He could feel his mother’s hope curdle. He saw her shoulders slump almost imperceptibly beneath the thin housecoat.

After a beat that stretched into an age, Connor’s head turned, just slightly. Not enough to look at her. Just enough for his profile to be visible—the sharp line of his muzzle, the set of his jaw. It was a dismissal more complete than any words.

He gave the engine a slight, warning rev. The Mustang’s low growl was a sound of finality in the suburban quiet.

Lillian flinched, taking a half-step back onto the bottom porch stair. Her hand, which had been raised in a vague wave, dropped to her side. “Okay,” she murmured, the word meant for no one. “Okay, then. Drive safe, Connor.”

"'Night" Connor said with a quick glance as his car's window slid up with a smooth electric hum, sealing him off. The car didn’t speed away. It just eased from the curb with a predatory quiet and disappeared down Sycamore, its red taillights swallowed by the night.

Lillian stood on the walk for a moment longer, watching the empty street. Then she turned, her movements weary, and shuffled back inside. The screen door sighed shut behind her.

Garret forced his legs to move. The house smelled of lemon-scented cleaner and something vaguely burnt—a forgotten piece of toast, maybe. The living room TV was on, casting its anaemic blue glow over piles of laundry folded on the couch and magazines stacked on the coffee table.

“He just… dropped you off?” His mother’s voice came from the kitchen doorway. She was filling the kettle at the sink, not looking at him.

“Yeah.” Garret dropped his board by the front door. It clattered on the tile.

“He didn’t want to come in. Not even for a minute.”

It wasn’t a question. Garret didn’t answer. He walked past her, down the short hall to his room.

“Garret?”

He paused, his paw on his doorknob.

“Is everything… okay? With you two?” Her voice was thin, a genuine attempt to pierce a fog she perpetually seemed to be walking through.

He saw Connor’s smirk in the headlights. Think I can get them both in one go?

“Fine,” he said, the word as hollow as he felt. “It’s fine, Mom.”

He shut his door.