05/14/17
For you, Mom.
from me to you
P.S. screw those green lines.
Short Flashback Of:
THE TWO HALF-BROTHERS
“Doesn’t that sweater bother you?”
”Not really, because—“
“Don’t.”
“—it’s made out of brother material.”
“Let mom and dad disown you.”
The older brother’s laughter echoed along the hallways.
He put the younger brother into a headlock, rubbing his
knuckles against his head. The force and friction that the
older one put caused the younger of the two to wince in pain.
“H-Hey, that hurts!” The younger brother said,
struggling against the heavy weight of his older brother.
Unfortunately, his attempts were overpowered.
“You know what hurts more?”
He let go of his brother, who now rubbed his head in agony.
“What?”
“Life.”
PROLOGUE.1 : Getting In Trouble (Again)
“You are about to get in trouble for this, Marcus.”
“Not if mom and dad found out, I won’t.”
A heavy sigh escaped out of Brandon’s lips, eyeing the young adult walking in front of him, as if nothing had happened just a few minutes ago. The pouch that hung and swayed just about Marcus’s hips only proved to him that what happened just awhile back did happen. The bloodstains spotted on both of Marcus’s gloves made Brandon cringe at the memory.
“I can’t believe you’re sporting money by getting yourself involved in these good-for-nothing street fights.” Brandon blurted out, not being able to contain his annoyance. Marcus looked back at him, a sly grin grooming his features.
“It’s one way of getting money. How could I possibly say no to that?”
“Marcus, if you aren’t aware by now, you could consider landing a job for yourself. Or better yet,” Brandon spotted a pebble and kicked it, landing a hit to Marcus’s pouch. Marcus yelped in response, shielding his pouch. “Accept father’s offer.”
“Jobs are booooring. And father’s offer? Psh, don’t make me laugh. That’s what you call imprisonment, if you’re the type to enjoy being held down and becoming a slave.”
“Not everyone thinks the same way as you do.”
“Except for you!” He grinned, slowing his pace until they were walking side by side.
Brandon shook his head in disapproval and slight amusement. “That’s all in your head, brother.”
Just as they went out of the narrow alleyway, a black limousine came into view and parked from where they stood. People who were near the pavement slowly backed away from fear, and others stood still and looked at the vehicle in amazement and awe.
Before the passenger’s side of the door even had the chance to open to reveal another one of the brothers’ babysitters (A weird yet accurate concept, Brandon thought to himself. To think our heavily equipped and heavily weighted bodyguards would be called as our babysitters.), Brandon took hold of Marcus’s sleeves and bolted out of the scene. The civilians who got in their way either stepped aside, or were merely bumped into by accident. As soon as they picked up their speed, passing by buildings and people in a quick daze, Brandon quickly let go of the sleeves he tightly held onto, and let Marcus run freely alongside him.
Marcus managed to stifle out his laughter, jumping over a vendor’s accessories shop. The vendor looked appalled and in shock.
“And here I thought you were the most responsible one out of the two of us!”
“Who said I can’t have a little bit fun of my own?”
“You do realize this will only end up getting the both of us in more trouble than before?”
Brandon smirked.
“I do, and that’s the thrill and fun of it.”
PT.2 : Getting Told Off (Again)
“Do enlighten me the thought of where the two of you were.” Their father said, reading the daily newspaper without glancing at the two half-brothers.
The two brothers glanced at each other, afraid of meeting their father’s gaze. Marcus had an apologetic look on his face, mouthing Brandon an apology.
“I’m sorry.” He mouthed to him.
Brandon smiled, and nodded at him.
He couldn’t help getting told off by their father once again; neither did he have a choice. As the older brother of the two, he was given a duty right after Marcus was born into this world.
“You are to protect your brother at all costs.”
His mother’s words echoed in his head. Marcus’s mother, not his.
Brandon’s mother had passed away from breast cancer when he was three years old, and his father turned into a wreck during and after attending the funeral. Within a matter of weeks, he was up and about once again, wearing that stoic and unpredictable face. Only a matter of months did he find a new wife, then Marcus came along. He did remember trying to hold baby Marcus into his arms, embracing the warmth that he felt through his half-brother. He was a bundle of joy, he thought. Anyone who would look at Marcus at that time would’ve thought, “What an adorable pumpkin!”
But now, Brandon wished he had squished the life out of Marcus. Half-joking.
He smiled fondly of the memory, but the burden that was given to him at such a young age carried him until now, no matter how heavy it seemed.
What would mother say if she were still alive? Brandon thought to himself.
“Well?” His father demanded, his voice getting more ominous by the second that passed them by without any of them uttering a single word. “Where were the both of you?”
“Father, we were just—” Marcus started, but their father raised a single hand for him to stop.
“There is no point in making a salad without its vegetables, just as there is no point in lying to me, Marcus.”
“I haven’t even said anything before you interrupted me!” Marcus said, pouting.
Brandon sighed, patting Marcus’s head out of pity.
“I found him in one of those alleyways again, father. He was—” He took a peek at Marcus’s expression before continuing. “—doing his usual business.”
“As I have been told by Brian, since the both of you have successfully outran him more than once.”
Marcus gave a light-hearted giggle, until Brandon flicked his forehead.
They heard their father sigh, finally closing and putting down the newspaper that he held. He still didn’t look back at them, and Marcus got chills receiving that kind of treatment once more.
“Street fighting isn’t a business. Nor is it a professional one to partake in.”
“But,” Marcus started, and for a moment, their father’s head turned slightly to the right.
“It does pay me a good amount of money.”
“Would you rather become a senseless barbarian than a poised businessman? What you are doing could make you end up in the newspaper headlines, and they’ll see just how much of an irresponsible heir that you are. Your recklessness and childish behaviour are not needed.” His father hissed. His words cut through Marcus deep, as if poisoning his entire being. Before he could bark out a snarky remark, Brandon gently placed a hand on top of Marcus’s shoulder.
“I apologize, father. I know that you only want what is best for the both of us—” Marcus scoffed. “—and I’m sure Marcus understands your disposition.”
“And you, Brandon.” Brandon flinched at the sound of his name being called by his father. He didn’t know if it bore a warning, or worse, a hint of a punishment waiting for him.
“You are aware of the fact that your brother is your responsibility as well, I take it?”
“Yes, father.”
“Then, you do understand that his actions are your actions?”
Brandon paused for a moment before answering.
“… Yes, father.”
“Good. It seems you have not forgotten your duty as the eldest son of this family. Bear that well in your mind, Brandon. Not only that,” Their father slowly stood up, and as he now faced them, his expression was once again unreadable. Was he disappointed? Was he furious? The both of them could never tell until their father raised his tone against them.
“Both of you will inherit the family company within a matter of months. I suppose the both of you have remembered the burdens that each of you must carry while keeping the family company in business.” Both of them nodded at him. “And I need the both of you to be prepared when this happens.” He carefully eyed Marcus, who hasn’t shrunk down by his father’s hard gaze at him. “You do understand where I’m getting at, Marcus?”
Marcus looked anywhere but at his father. “Yes, pops.”
Their father looked a bit disgruntled by the sound of that nickname ringing in his ears, but his eyes start to soften as he patted both of his sons on the head, then lightly ruffling their hair.
Their father looked down at Marcus’s gloves, which were covered by bloodstains. He sighed heavily. “Fighting your way through things isn’t always the solution to everything.”
Marcus remained silent, not knowing what type of answer his father would want to hear from him. As far as he knew, his father had had enough of his rude and snarky comments. Preventing from any further disappointment, Marcus bowed his head and said nothing.
His expression returned to its previous state in a matter of seconds, and he retreated back to his newspaper. The brothers looked at him in confusion, waiting for his further command or response. Their father raised one hand and signalled them that they are dismissed.
But before the brothers were able to retreat quietly into their rooms, their father uttered one final statement for the night.
“I know I can count on the both of you.”