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dulafer · 3 years

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TWIN REVENGE

This is an old one, just thought I’d share..... Its of my shortest stories. Any feedback appreciated - [email protected]

REUNION

I’ve always been the odd twin out. Will and I were both named William C. Witt with the only difference being our middle names – Charles and Conner. I’ve never liked being called ‘Willy’ while William preferred ‘Will’. Growing up, our parents couldn’t tell us apart - we even have the same birthmark on our chins.

I’ve always been jealous of Will for being the favorite. Many times, I’d answer to my brother’s name on purpose or force Will to swap places with me. The first time I was Will was when he was failing algebra in 9th grade and didn’t want our parents to find out. We swapped places so I could take his tests. My condition was that I stay as him for the day – soaking up my parent’s adoration and love. Will was definitely our parent’s favorite which pissed me off the older I got, often lashing out for attention. In high school I started impersonating my brother to get him in trouble. Sometimes, I would get caught because my brother would have an alibi with friends backing him up, or I’d would slip up wearing my hair differently or some other little detail.

By our junior year, I started hanging with another group of friends and dealing drugs. My reputation for trouble followed me as my ‘business’ grew. Will knew what I was up to because people would mistake him for their dealer. Weeks before graduation, the principal caught me selling drugs red handed, thanks to a tip from Will. Since Witts are a powerful family, Dad worked a deal to allow me to graduate on the condition that I spend the summer in rehab. The deal was made and the day after graduation, Dad drove me to the rehab center. I lasted a week before escaping and never being seen again.

My drug pals smuggled me out of Los Angeles to northern California. San Francisco was the perfect spot for me. With my college age looks, I blend in on local high school and college campuses where my business grew exponentially. I wear the college gear that fit the campuses I was working daily. I’ve always been thrifty with my earnings and always a light user myself so I saved my money for a future free of drugs. When I can, I sit in on college classes, mostly political science since my father was always drilling politics into Will and I.

Will on the other hand, was the perfect son. He attended college for political science, becoming a staunch conservative. But Will wasn’t always perfect. After two years in college, he dropped out and was hired at Prager U as a campus correspondent to interview students and follow trends. Will quickly picked up a fan base nationally and within months was buying a condo and new car – with the help of a proud rich father. Will travels the country giving speeches, interviewing people and blogging.

Mom and dad have all but forgotten about me. I faked my own death and changed my name when I heard my family was looking for me. It was convincing enough that the Witts even had a funeral for me.

CAMPUS LIFE

I’m at Stanford University working my regular ‘route’, supporting my boys with product. A few girls spot me, come running over and one screams. “Oh my god, Will! I’m your biggest fan.”

I wonder why they’re calling me Will and fawning over me? “Hi, thank you so much.”

“We can’t wait to hear you speak. You going to do a ‘man on the street’?” the other one squeals.

“Sure am.” Not knowing what that is even. I see one of my boys coming over for his weekly stash. “Excuse me ladies, I’m meeting an old friend.”

Tyler comes over with his usual swagger carrying his backpack. “Do I have competition bro?”

“No, not at all! You know you’re my main man.” We do his frat’s handshake. Anyone watching us would see us both in Stanford gear and just assume we’re students. We take a seat on a nearby bench, talk business, two minutes later, he’s leaving with my backpack full of drugs.

I walk around campus, wondering about those two girls calling me Will. When I get to the campus hub, I see my face plastered all over the board. The flyers reads ‘Will Witt, Prager University, Topic: Campus Diversity’. I pull one off the board, fold it up and place it in my backpack pocket. I’ll be damned, my little brother in town. I have to see this for myself.

I get home and study the flyer, find the Prager U site and start watching my brother’s videos. We’re so alike with our political beliefs – neither of us have fallen far from our father’s tree. We both have the same attitudes and beliefs as good old dad. He even sounds like dad did, around the dinner table our entire life. I then log into his Instagram account, using Will’s password he’s been using for a decade. I’m getting envious of my brother’s life – he’s still the golden boy and I’m sure dad is super proud of him. He’s traveling all over the world thanks to this Prager gig. On top of that, he’s become famous on Fox and other mediums for being very articulate and full of energy.

As I watch him, I’m getting very envious of Will. I’m as smart and talented as my brother. I could have been the favorite son, the celebrity. ‘Should be, could be, will be.’ I think to myself. That should be my life.

The next day, I head to a theater supply store and buy a fake belly, beard/mustache and some make up. I’ve got to see my brother in action today. Will is scheduled to do a ‘man on the street’ interview on campus this afternoon, then the speech later tonight.

I show up for his man on the street interview but hang way back, out of sight of Will. With my disguise, I’ve gained 50lbs, a full beard, sunglasses and wearing a tie dyed hoodie. I watch and listen as Will, his producer and camera man set up everything. I record everything with a shotgun microphone - hearing the back and forth banter between Will, his cameraman Gavi and Mike, his producer. That evening, I attend the lecture in another disguise just to be safe. I’ve haven’t seen Will in over two years but he’s still the same arrogant Will in private. In public he’s very friendly and charming. As I’m listening to Will speak, a plan starts to formulate in the back of my mind. Willy is already dead to the world, so why not become Will. It’s not like I’m inexperienced in doing it. It would always piss Will off when I would steal his identity and fool his girlfriends. While he was taking a shower, I would get dressed first, take his clothes, phone, car and pick up his girlfriend who was clueless. Will would be pissed but I would apologize and he would forgive me. One time Will called his girlfriend while I was impersonating him and couldn’t convince her that he was actually Will – I was that good.

I start tracking my brother via his emails, calendar and social media. Will is flying from Los Angeles to Washington for a week, with Turning Point USA to promote Prager U and himself. Our parents will also be gone on vacation to Europe for months, with plans to hook up with Will in London for lunch and a show in a month.

MOVING TO LOS ANGELES

I need to formulate a detailed plan. Will has lived the good life long enough, it’s my turn now. I start with cleaning up my life here – telling my friends that I need to disappear again. They buy it easily as it has happened before. I clean out my bank account – about $1m, and drive to Hollywood where Will lives.

I rent a furnished apartment across the street from Will’s condo. It’s perfect – from my living room and bedroom, I can see his entrance and garage. I keep my fake beard and baseball cap on all the time, and only use the back entrance to go anywhere. On his departure day, I watch him being picked up by an airport service and confirm his flight took off on schedule. I head to my bathroom and remove my beard and hide my longer hair under a baseball cap. The condo manager gladly provides ‘Will’ with a spare key when I tell him I lost mine.

Will’s condo is very nice with an open floorplan. There’s 3 bedrooms and 3.5 baths. The lower level is a 2 car garage, lots of storage, a large video recording studio and utility room. His silver Porsche 911 Cabrio is parked next to a motorcycle. On the wall is some leather gear, boots and helmet. The 2nd floor has a large living room with exposed brick walls, huge flat screen, fireplace, bar, gourmet kitchen with top end stainless steel appliances and a personal office. The 3rd floor is all bedrooms with a huge master suite with large bathroom and large walk in closet. The one spare bedroom is sparsely decorated with just a bed, dresser and chair. The other bedroom is mostly empty. It’s a great ‘crib’ but I’m certain daddy helped pay for most of it.

I get to work quickly with my plans. I try to check out his studio’s computer but its password protected and I can’t get it to unlock. This isn’t a problem after I plug in a thumb drive with keystroke tracker and some other tricks. In a minute, I gain access to all his computers and social media accounts. The password was his usual password but backwards.

His iMac Pro is a wealth of information – full of his unedited videos, speeches and even a digital diary. I thought he stopped doing a diary in 11th grade but apparently not. He updated it just this morning before leaving. I’m sitting there for hours reviewing his life since I left. His comments about my death and funeral are cruel to say the least. He blames me for fucking up life with my death, how mom & dad are glad it’s over and they’re all better off. Even my father agreed with him. That’s fine by me, they won’t miss Will at all when I take his place.

I decide to spend the night here and continue my studying. In his basement studio there is a green screen, professional video cameras and teleprompters set up in one corner which he uses to make his cutesy videos. I turn on the equipment, click on a file and up pops the words to his last blog on the teleprompter. On another display in front of the green screen pops up the empty stool where he sits. On the stool is a remote I believe is for controlling everything. I plop my ass down, face the camera, and see myself, or Will on the display in front of me. I fuss with my hair to give me Will’s prominent cowlick, press ‘record’ and the words start moving for me to perform. “What’s up guys, Will Witt for Prager U” I repeat his performance, then delete file before passing out at 2am, after seeing his posts on landing in Washington DC.

LOOKING THE PART

My brother prides himself on his hair, especially the huge cowlick that he’s proud of. According to his calendar, he had a haircut a few days before leaving for Washington. I make myself at home taking a shower, and pulling on some of his clothes – dark gray skinny jeans, t-shirt, jacket and his black high top converse sneakers. I’m missing his clunky watch and ring he wears all the time, and also his rope crystal necklace he’s been wearing since he was 15. The one time I was with one of his girlfriends, not having that necklace on, gave away my identity. I jump in Will’s Porsche and find a salon with a great google rating. I ask for my usual and show her pics from two days ago. They’re very close up and detailed. In half an hour, I’m smiling at Will in the mirror, running my hand through his cowlick.

Back home, I pull in to the garage and before I can close the door, some pretty little thing is running over to me.

“Will! Hey there, I’m glad I caught you.”

“Oh hey, you caught me.” I smile and act surprise.

“Tammy and I are having a party tonight.” She hands me a flyer ‘Jen and Tam’s Big Party’.

“That sounds like a blast, ‘Jen’.” Hoping she’s the ‘Jen’ on the flyer.

“I was just going to slip it in your mailbox. Thought you were going to Washington or someplace exotic again.”

“My DC trip was postponed, so I’m here.” I give her a typical Will smile.

“Washington’s lost is our gain. You have to come. Besides you can crawl home if you get drunk like unlike last time.”

“I’ll try my best but super busy here.” I chuckle with her, not sure what she’s referring to but Will’s diary will probably help me remember some of it. I’d love to go but there’ll be lots of iPhones around and plenty of pics/videos posted on social media.

A friend sent me a lot of WiFi HD fiberoptic video cameras and microphones to bug my brother’s place. I place a few in each room then sync them to my iPad. Walking from room to room I test them all for activation. It takes all day to hide them properly. Later on, Will’s latest VLOGs and antics from Washington start appearing on his desktop.

His video reminds me how different our styles are. Will was always conservative dresser while I went for the grunge look. His videos confirm his tastes haven’t changed at all except becoming more expensive. I’m making myself at home – it’s going to be my future home soon anyway. With my new haircut, it only takes a little of his gel to look exactly like him.

It was always fun turning myself into Will when we were younger, it’s still a turn on now. I print out some pics from his PC files, showing various outfit he’s worn. I’ve got to nail his ‘look’ perfectly for my future life. There’s one of him in a sharp black suit, white shirt and black tie playing a piano, with a red lapel thingy at a Prager U gala a month ago. We both took piano lesson but I was always a little better.

It’s easy finding the outfit in his very organized closet. He took it off, left the lapel pin in and probably hasn’t worn it since. There’s a video of the gala in his files that I watch, providing me glimpses of his shoes and watch. I strip out of his jeans, and into the outfit. I couldn’t find his watch – it’s probably in Washington on him but I slip on his pinky ring and a different watch from his jewelry box. Back in the studio, I start a new file – Prager Gala, pretending that I’m Will being interviewed about the night’s events. I sit on the stool, hit record and adlib the event starting with Will’s signature “What’s up Guys” intro, including flashing his two fingers. Being Will is all very natural for me. I’m up half the night learning the equipment, checking out his videos and closet. I just need a few weeks of studying him before I replace him.

To access his cell phone, a friend puts me in contact with a local guy who clones Will’s iPhone. It costs $2000 but I now see his text messages, calendar and listen to his voicemails. I can also listen in on his calls while he’s talking to people. I can’t speak to them, and they can’t hear me but it’s perfect timing. With him in Washington, his entire life is going through his cell phone, providing me with up to the minute information. He’s working on his schedule for the next few months. With access to all this, I’m learning who his coworkers are, listening to work conference calls, what they’re working on and what Will’s job entails as Prager’s ‘social media influencer’.

Will has a spare set of keys for our parent’s place so I visit just to see what changes have been made while I’ve been gone. The most obvious change is the lack of pictures of me. Their mantel has no pics of Will and I together. It almost looks like they have only one son – that I never existed. Everything else is pretty much how it was three years ago. As I was leaving, Mrs. Tarantolo, their neighbor sees “Will” and comes running over to say hello. She thought it was sweet I was keeping an eye on their place while they were away “Such a good son.” She claims to be my biggest fan and hasn’t missed any of my videos. She’s clueless about me, as she should – when even our parents couldn’t tell the difference, I’m not worried about anyone.

My week consists of listening, watching and reading everything he’s up to. I take his Porsche out to grab lunch or dinner to remote places so I’m not seen by anyone that could know him. A few times, fans mistake me for Will and I sign autographs using “What’s Up Guys”. They’re thrilled and its harmless fun for me.

The week flies by and I return to my apartment across the road. I return the spare condo key to the manager after making a duplicate of it. On schedule, Will returns via LAX shuttle service. My surveillance system works perfectly as he moves around his condo. I see him taking a shower, changing into sweats and working in his studio. His buddy Mike arrives later with pizza and they brainstorm in the studio about their next VLOG and ‘man in the street’ topics. Listening to their banter helps me learn the lingo and their personal relationship.

Will has not changed a bit since I left Los Angeles – same old anal retentive asshole. It’s fun watching and learning about him. He’s still an avid runner, and like clockwork, he does five miles around a nearby park most mornings. Prager U is just a few miles away and he’s there daily unless he’s traveling. He has a new girlfriend he casually hooks up with but it’s not serious, so that’ll be easy. He writes about meeting her in his diary. He’s got his work schedule planned for the next few months and I know enough to handle it. After a few weeks, my gut is telling me I’m ready to be Will Witt.

Will’s next major trip is to London for a scheduled Turning Point USA promotion/MOTS and speech at Oxford University – same as he did at Stanford. My plan is to replace him when he arrives home. This gives me another 10 days to get up to speed with his life. I watch him pack, see LAX shuttle service pick him up and confirm his plane took off as scheduled. I make myself at home but keep a low profile, rarely going out.

Between his phone and computer, I’m kept busy 24 hours/day just keeping up with his life. He’s definitely a video freak, not only recording content for Prager but also everything else like his hotel room, what he had for breakfast, his shopping excursions. I can’t wait to wear his new $7000 bespoke suit he purchased during his shopping expedition on Saville Row. I listen in on his phone calls with our parents, his friends and girlfriend Lisa. This helps me get up to speed with what’s going on in his life. Mom & Dad meet Will for lunch at his hotel, then go to see Hamilton. There’s plenty of selfies and videos to make his life mine. He’s spending a fortune on food, wine, clothes, cigars and trinkets.

A few hours before he returns, I’m armed with chloroform, truth serum and various knock out drugs. I hide in his bedroom, ready to pounce with a heavily soaked rag of chloroform. It’s almost enough to knock me out just holding it.

HONEY I’M HOME

The door lock jiggles and Will enters, plopping his luggage inside the door. He makes a beeline to kitchen and opens the refrigerator. He’s there quite a while before I hear him dragging his very large suitcases up the stairs. I’m crotched in the corner, behind the door as he struggles to get both bags through. The perfect moment happens when one of the bags get stuck in the door jam and I hear him say ‘fuck’. In a split second, I pounce and have the chloroform soaked rag over his nose and mouth. A split second after that, he almost falls to the floor as I catch him. I drag him out into the hallway, and finish putting his bags in the bedroom.

“Welcome home Will, have a good trip?” I look down at him passed out and ask.

“Awesome trip man, had fun with the TP USA team, saw Hamilton with the parents, and hit up lots of pubs and cigars. I’ll have to show you all the pics I took.” I respond to myself in Will’s typical enthusiastic lingo.

I drag Will to the empty bedroom and start stripping him. Of course, he’s in a sport coat and tie to travel. It’s so ‘Will’ I think as I carefully remove everything from him, amazed at how alike we still are. I strip off my old sweat pants and t-shirt and put them on him. I pull him up into a metal chair I anchored to the floor, then handcuff his hands and feet so he can’t move an inch. I kneel down next to him, grab his face, then rotate it side to side to check his appearance close up. My sideburns are about a quarter inch too long so I head to my bathroom and trim them to match exactly.

I carry ‘my’ clothes back to my new bedroom and slowly start my transformation into Will. I love pulling on the outfit he’s been wearing all day—his sweat and scents mixing with mine. Everything is still warm as I put on his black briefs and socks. His charcoal dress pants fit perfectly as I pull them up. His shirt has gunmetal gray cufflinks and is monogrammed on the sleeve with our initials ‘WCW’. I pulled the black lace up shoes off his feet without untying them. I wiggle into them, tuck in my shirt and fasten my belt. In the bathroom mirror I put on his tie using the same technique dad taught both of us. I pull on his cool black sport coat with large dark gray plaid patterns. There’s a video of him wearing this outfit for red carpet Oscar interviews. I check his breast pockets, locating his iPhone, keys and wallet. Tucked inside an outside pocket are his glasses. Slipping on his ring, leather wrist band and watch completes my transformation into Will Witt. I adjust my hair using his Cremo hair cream—Will is always fussing with his hair. Staring in the mirror, I only see Will Witt, just as he was traveling first class earlier. I grin at myself as I adjust my shirt cuffs and admire my looks. I do his usual MOTS intro flawlessly – “What’s Up Guys”. From this moment on, I’m Will Witt and no one will have a clue I’m not.

My iPhone buzzes in my suit pocket, it’s Will’s girlfriend, Lisa calling.

“Hey Lisa, I just got in the door babe.” I answer watching myself in the mirror, smiling and playing Will flawlessly.

“I thought you would be, I’ve missed you so much Will.” She whispers seductively.

“Same, may I take you out for dinner?” I ask as charmingly as Will does, remembering their conversation from a day ago, and Will promising dinner and a surprise.

“I would love that.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up at 7, Let’s dress up and go someplace nice. I’ll wear a suit and tie.” This gives me the afternoon to get settled into my new life.

“Okay Will, can’t wait.”

“Bye Babe.” Will’s cutesy name he uses for all his girlfriends.

‘It’s show time’ I think to myself. I head back to my brother who’s finally starting to stir from the chloroform. I start slapping his face and he becomes more aware.

“Wake up Willy, Willy wake up.” I say playfully.

He looks confused, slowly recognizing me, his eyes bug out, then starts to struggle. “But you’re dead?”

“Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. Don’t struggle bro, you’ll only hurt yourself.” I laugh at him.

“What’s going on Willy? Why are you in my clothes?”

“From now on, please call me Will and they’re now my clothes. I just got back from London and I’m really jet lagged.” I stand proudly, straighten my tie then reach into my breast pocket for my new wallet.

“Asshole, what do you think you’re doing?” he yells and gets pissed as he’s now fully awake.

“Well, remember when you planted drugs in my locker, turned me into the school principle and ruined my life?”

“Yeah, that was a good one! They all bought it too. Got rid of you for good.” He laughs.

“Well, laugh all you want. I’m borrowing your life.”

“You’ll never get away with this. Whatever you are planning, won’t work.” He predicts.

“Well I’m taking Lisa out to dinner tonight to celebrate my return. In other words, I need pussy but Will doesn’t talk like that. Let me rephrase it – I’m taking my girlfriend out for dinner and hopefully make love to her. Better?” I leaf through my wallet checking it out, pulling out the debit card. “Bro, is your PIN still 8991? I may need some cash for my date. You only have a $40 in here.”

By the look on his face, I know he never changed is PIN. “Thanks bro, just needed to confirm that.”

“She’ll know you’re not me, don’t even try it.”

“Bro, you’re talking to the guy who fooled all your girlfriends in high school. You’ve been dating her for what? About 6 weeks after meeting her at Jen’s last party where you got wasted and don’t remember getting home.”

“You’ve been reading my private diary?”

“Well, you could say it’s my diary. So, I was just reviewing my life for the past few years.” I laugh at him. “Which brings me to a new issue – where should I take her for dinner, and do afterwards?”

“Fuck yourself.” He yells.

“Bro, I’m hoping to fuck her, not myself. You don’t want me to do something brash, ‘unWill like’ and ruin your relationship do you? I bet she doesn’t even know you have a twin brother, am I right?” I laugh at him.

“Willy, what are you doing? Just untie me and I’ll forget this ever happened. I promise.” Trying to soften me up.

“Let’s get this straight, for the time being, I’m Will Witt, you’re nothing, don’t call me that again.” I yell at him. “Now, you’re going to help me be you or I’m going to really fuck up your life. You know I can do it. If you lie to me, there will be repercussions. Do not test me.”

“Okay.” He responds defeated.

“Okay, what?” I demand.

“Okay Will. Lisa loves Italian and there’s this little family owned restaurant called ‘Papa Joe’s’ near her house. She loves it and so do I. That’s where I was planning on taking her tonight. I always get the ‘Lombardo’ dish with an ice tea of course.” He answers defeated.

“That’s good information bro, I really appreciate that.” I watch his face and have always been able to tell when he was lying. “What after that? What are her limits? I need everything to be you with her. Give me the full history.”

He proceeds to tell me everything I need to know about Lisa – at least I hope so.

“Now I need details about my job. I know where you work, and what you do but more details about the people, office layout, where your office is and how I get in?” He gives me looks that could kill. “What’s up guys?” I mock him with his catch phrase.

“My work ID badge gives me complete access anytime. It’s in the front pocket of my backpack. I have an office on the second floor, just left as you get out of the elevator. My name is on the door. You can’t miss it.”

“What do you do when you first get there, in the morning? Routine? Pals? Coffee? conference room? Where do you go for lunch? I need it all Willy. You don’t want me to mess up your perfect little life, do you?” I subtly threaten him.

Once I pump him for everything, I grab the bag from the corner, pull out a needle and inject him. He screams at me for about two minutes then become docile. I walk him to the bathroom and order him to relieve himself. Once secured back in his chair, I give him dose of Midazolam that will keep him out for 12 hours and put a ball gag in his mouth. I shut and lock the bedroom door, head back to my master bedroom finishing my unpacking.

I slip easily into Will’s routine. My shirts and suits will go to my cleaner per the receipts in the Porsche, the rest go into the washer. Carefully tucked inside his luggage is his new Saville Row Huntsman, a few new dress shirts and the Big Ben charm I bought Lisa in London. I can’t help but try on the new suit, admiring the fit and material. I head downstairs and see Will’s work backpack he has with him all the time. I take it down to the studio office and start going through the content…. A few cameras, my passport, iPad and MacBook Pro. There’s a printout of my next Prager assignments and hand notes he made in the margins. I find his work ID, clip it to my suit, repack his backpack and head to the office.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

I’ve followed Will to Prager U but have never stepped foot inside. I pull into an empty parking lot, and park in his assigned spot. Will says no one is ever there but he sometimes goes in to get a jump on Monday. My ID badge opens the main door. I easily find his office and make myself at home. On the wall I notice the signed photograph of Reagan that dad treasures and wonder how Will has it. I plop my backpack on the chair next to my desk and start exploring. I open my MacBook and it starts syncing with the LAN. I easily log in and upload my videos as Will does after all his events, according to his logs.

I explore the entire building and everything is as he described – Boss’ office, video production, media center, studio, executive conference room etc. I confidently walk around taking in the names of my coworkers. In the men’s room, I smile at Will in the mirror and clean out my coffee mug.

Back in the office, I settle into my desk and go thru my drawers, check my work email and respond to some. I hear someone coming up the stairs, calling my new name, approaching my office. I recognize it immediately as Will’s producer and friend – Mike.

“In here.” I yell out to him.

He pops his head around the corner. “Welcome back, how was your flight?”

“Uneventful, good to be home but jet lag.” I casually answer.

“My flight yesterday was delayed an hour from Chicago but not too bad.”

I heard their last conversation before Will took off this am, and continued it. “I’m good with the final edits from MOTS, just uploaded it so Alexander can add the graphics.”

I pull up the video, knowing Will made a few cuts on the flight over, and show it to him.

“You’ve been busy man, looks great. You want to grab lunch?”

“Sure, you drive and pick.” I can’t resist the thought of testing my ‘Will skills’.

Mike takes me to ‘In & Out’ for burgers. He doesn’t suspect a thing, readily accepting me as his friend and coworker. We talk about the trip, work and future trips. I feel as if I was actually there. He drops me off and I head back to my office and continue to familiarize myself with everything for a few more hours.

My big test will be ‘my’ girlfriend Lisa. I stay in Will’s slick outfit, donning his favorite Ray-Bans for the drive. She’s waiting for me outside and jumps into my car. Her unexpected full tongue kiss surprises me but I quickly adjust and give her full tongue back. We make out for a minute then I take her to Papa Joe’s. Will was telling the truth, Lisa lights up as I pull in front and valet the Porsche. I use my brother’s pics, diary, blogs and text messages to talk about my London trip. When desert comes, I spring the Big Ben charm on her. She leans in tenderly, kisses me deeply and invites me to spend the night.

At her place, we strip and jump right into bed. In minutes, she’s moaning as I work her pussy, slowly penetrating it with the tip of my head. She starts moaning softly ‘oh Will, oohhh Will’ making me harder, pushing deeper into her as she climaxes. I explode in her, then collapse onto my back as she curls up under my arm and we fall to sleep. She wakes me up with a blow job and homemade pancakes – Will’s favorite she notes. I’m not a big pancake fan but eat them eagerly as Will would. I’ve replaced Will completely and now have his sexy girlfriend.

DAY TWO

I check on Willy when I get home and he’s starting to stir. My schedule today calls for video editing at Prager U with Gavi and Mike. I take a quick shower put on an outfit that screams ‘preppy conservative’ – which isn’t difficult as that’s all Will has in his closet, making my job easy.

I pop my head in to the bedroom and see that he’s wide awake.

“Morning sunshine.” I cheerfully say.

“Let me the fuck out of these straps now!” he mumbles as I remove the ballgag.

“Sure thing, but first a little shot so you can take a dump and eat a little something. Hungry?”

“No, don’t drug me, it’s a fucking weird feeling.” He pleas.

“Sorry man, I can’t chance you getting free and having a fake Will running around.”

“You’re the fake Will, ass wipe.” He screams.

“Hmmm Lisa and Mike didn’t think so. I ran into Mike in the office yesterday while uploading my latest VLOG and MOTS video, then had lunch with him. He’s a good friend of mine. Oh, and Lisa… Damn did I hit her sweet spot last night as she moaned my name softly in my ears. She really loved the Big Ben charm I got her and the ‘Big Will’ I gave her. I think I’m in love bro.” I grab my crotch so he knows what I’m talking about.

“You fucking bastard!! Fucking asshole!! You’ll be caught. You can’t slip into my life that easily.” He screams.

“Now, now, Willy. Guess you didn’t notice the video and audio bugs I installed throughout my new condo or the keystroke tracker on your computers. I’ve been catching up with you since Stanford. Your condo manager was gracious enough to give me a key after you lost it.” I run and grab my iPad and play some of the videos for him, then I show him the cloned phone and play his last conversation with Mike.

“Guess I don’t need this cloned phone any longer. I have to admit, you’re quite the busy person. Your phone never stops ringing and beeping but don’t worry, I’m keeping up.”

“Fuck you Willy! When I get free, you’re going to jail or worst.”

“If you get free, which I doubt. If you haven’t noticed, you’re bolted to the floor. Oh, don’t worry, I’ll have new carpet installed at some point. Nice thing bro – between my bank account and yours, I’m quite wealthy with a lot of future potential. In fact, after this gig, I’m thinking of running for office. Dad would love it and back me financially.”

He mutters. “Fucker.”

“Hey bro, don’t worry, I’m taking good care of your life. Enjoying it immensely, especially Lisa. She really knows how to wake me up but I’m not big on the pancakes.”

He thrashes back and forth in the chair screaming more obscenities at me.

“Bro, seriously, how do I look? Do you approve my work outfit? I’ve noticed this sport coat is one of your favorites. Oh, and my new suit from London fits great and feels incredible. I just had to try it on.” I taunt him while adjusting my shirt sleeves and checking my watch.

“What are you doing here?” he quietly demands.

“Well the drug career pays quite well but is extremely dangerous. After seeing you at Stanford, I decided a career change was necessary. Don’t you agree it’s a good career move?”

“You’ll never fool them for long. There are things only I could know. You’ll tripped up. What about mom and dad?”

“Are you serious?” I laugh out loud. “Mom and dad could never tell us apart, you know that. I did visit the house while you were in London and from the pictures displayed, it looks like I, Will, am an only child. They’re the least of my worries.”

“Oh, they’ll know you’re not me.”

“Why would they? Just look at me bro. I was always a better you than you, when I wanted to be. I do have to get fully up to speed with my new life, friends and girlfriend but that’s what all my new drugs are for. I kind of like your style so I’ll only wear what you already have in your closet. I’m enjoying your preppy style. I think I’m rocking the Will look, you have to admit it.” I tug on my sleeves not interested in his rants.

“What about work?” He counters.

“Oh bro, that’ll be easy too. I’ve watched all your videos – the work and personal, edited and unedited. I taught myself iMovie to edit my MOTSs for uploading. I’ve seen you brainstorm with Mike on MOTS topics and question. It’s amazing how we even think alike politically. I’m ahead of schedule for today. Like the anal person you are, I was in the office all afternoon while you were sleeping. I cleaned out my scummy coffee mug, organized my desk and left a note for Alexander on the graphics I’d like to see before the end of today. I can’t wait to meet the boss, have been a fan of his for years.”

“You can’t be me!” He slumps his shoulder in deeper defeat.

“I am you, no one will have a clue I’m not.”

I inject him with truth serum and a powerful muscle relaxer. By the time I come back with breakfast, he’s docile and defeated. A few protein bars, quick trip to bathroom and he’s safely secured again. The truth serum is remarkable. I have a totally different discussion with him.

“Hey bro, how do I look? You like?” I spin around to model my outfit.

“I’ve worn that exact outfit before I think.”

“Thank you, now see, it wasn’t too hard to be nice, now was it?”

He spills his guts to me about all his coworkers, and what he thinks of them. While he’s drugged, I hit him up on family issues and his feelings towards me. He basically threatens to kill me and will since I’m already dead. It’s been on his mind since he woke up chained to the chair. I snicker to myself, knowing he’s the one who’s days are numbered. It’s almost time for work today, so I knock him out for another 12 hours.

My first day of work is a breeze. I visit Alexander and review the graphics I want. Mike and I review the schedule and brainstorm future MOTSs and VLOGs. Will has the easy part and probably makes the most money. Prager’s staff writes his MOTS questions and helps him with upcoming speeches. He provides the topic, they handle it from there. Will was good enough to do my outline for his University of Texas speech next week. I turn them in and talk to Marissa, our content producer. I have the best gig – I just need to be the hip preppy conservative face of Prager U and get to travel all around the world.

When I’m leaving Marrisa’s office, I run into Dennis Prager, the president of Prager University. He puts his arm around me and leads me back to his office.

“Will, good to see you, how was London? I just saw your rough video and it’s great”

“Thank you, Mr. Prager. London was great.” I respond and his face immediately looks puzzled.

“Since when am I Mr. Prager?”

“Dennis, sorry it just came out. I’m still out of sorts with jet lag and the British are so formal.” I try to recover.

“I understand boy, plus you probably had too much wine and cigars I’m sure.”

“I sure did. I brought a few Charatan Robustos back with me” I chuckle knowing their conversations about them and using them to solidify my identity.

“And you’re not sharing? Will, Will, Will, how could you?”

“I’ll bring them in tomorrow.”

“Let’s grab lunch son.”

I can’t believe I’m having lunch with Dennis Prager. He’s thrilled with ‘my’ work, wants me to do more TV appearances like Fox & Friends but also liberal networks. My ratings are through the roof. I talk about my London trip, showing him pics of my parents and selfies I took. We talk politics, going back and forth on issues. We get back to the office and I easily fit in and learn the ropes. By the end of the day, I’m very pleased with my new life. I pass on happy hour claiming I’m still of out sorts due to jet lag.

CHECKING IN

Back home I check Willy. He’s awake but groggy.

“What’s up guy? How was your day?” I ask cockily as I strut in.

“How do you think, you sick fuck.”

“So sorry to hear that. My day was awesome. My latest VLOG and MOTS are killing it. I had lunch with my friend Dennis and he wants me to do more TV spots. It was probably the best day of your life, I mean my life.”

“My life! You fucker, my life.” He screams with pure rage.

“Wow bro, you smell. We’ll have to get you a shower but first I need to change. Be right back.”

I run to my closet and throw on a pair of running shorts and a Prager t-shirt. I keep my cell phone on me as it’s been going off all day. When I get back to Willy, he starts yelling at me.

“What are you up to? Did you get me fired? The truth, you owe me that at least.”

I laugh. “Now why would I mess up my career bro?”

“It’s my life and career. You’re going to pay for this you fucking asshole.” He continues to rant.

“I’ve had enough of you already.” I grab the ball gag, shove it in his mouth and he starts thrashing again. My phone rings, it’s Mike calling.

“Hey Mike, What’s up?” Willy’s eye light up watching me.

“No, I’m fine, it was just jetlag and you know me…I tried all the beers and cigars in the pubs…Yeah buddy…thanks for your concern.” I hang up and look at Willy. “Hey that Jetlag excuse will be good for another few days till I get the groove completely.”

He starts mumbling again but the phone rings again with Lisa calling.

“Hey babe, how was your day?” I sincerely ask. Willy starts squirming and getting louder.

“Hey babe, hang on, I’ve got my producer calling.” I put her on hold, walk over to Willy and gut punch him with all my force. I impale him and he shuts up.

“Sorry babe, did I thank you for last night?...Oh yeah, I’d love to but I’ve got a lot to catch up with…My parents are coming back Wednesday from their European vacation and we’re suppose to do dinner Thursday? Would love for you to meet them….Okay… love ya.”

“Bro, see how easy this gig is for me? I still need you for some additional information like the combination to the safe in your office.” He stares at me but is keeping quiet. I grab my little box of drugs and mellow Willy out. A quick shower, shit and change of clothes and he’s back in his chair. I feed him a sub and water that he quickly inhales.

“Now Willy, what’s the number to my safe?”

“Go fuck yourself.” he mumbles.

“Willy, you know I could give you some truth serum or beat it out of you.”

“17858” he spits out as in disgust.

I head down to his safe and open it up. Inside is a gun, his birth certificate, social security card, and a stack of other seemingly important papers. I grab it all and take head up to review with Willy.

“Nice Glock Willy, let’s review what’s in my safe and why it’s there. Some quality bonding time. Most of this I know but the rest?” I ask nicely.

“My contract with Prager U, noncompete, mom & dad’s will, my will, some stocks dad gave me.”

I leaf through it, reading it all and ignoring Willy. In between docs, I feed him some granola bars from the kitchen. I play with the unloaded gun in front of him, on purpose. I’ll have a use for it soon.

“Ok brother, more work questions. There’s ‘PR shots’ on calendar for tomorrow afternoon. What’s with that?”

“Joel, our CMO set them up. It’s just ‘glamour’ pics for his new marketing campaign.”

“Oh, so that’s what my new suit is for I’m guessing. The email to Joel saying you’re all set after you bought it?”

“Yeah, please don’t fuck things up for me Willy. I’ve worked hard this past year.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m Will.” I gut punch him again.

“I’m sorry Will.” He cries in pain.

“That’s better Willy. So, tell me what to expect.”

“Easy, take suit to work, some of my shirts, ties and jewelry. Collette in our makeup will take care of the rest. Just smile and do what they tell you in front of the camera.” he answers, still in pain.

“Shoes?”

“The black derbies I had on yesterday, I bought for shoot specifically, wanted them broken in. Doesn’t matter though – they only shoot from waist up.”

“Now that’s more like it. Don’t fight me, help me so I don’t fuck up your life.” as if he’s ever getting it back, I think to myself.

“Yes Will.”

HANGING WITH FRIENDS

“Now, my friend Tommy wants to go out tonight, grab dinner. What would ‘Will’ do?”

“He wants to do 71Above – it’s the highest restaurant west of the Mississippi. Tricia, his friend is host there and can get us in. Very high end, suit and tie required.”

“That sounds great.”

“Yeah, he’s picking me up, I’m paying.”

“I’m paying!” I correct him. “What were you going to wear?”

“There’s a black Tom Ford suit with a red lapel pin on it, I’ve only worn it once for a few hours. White shirt and any tie.”

“Oh yes, my outfit from the Prager gala where I played ‘blue moon’ on the piano. What tie, what shirt?” I demand.

He looks at me shocked. “There’s a new gold paisley tie, white spread collar shirt with cufflinks.”

“Why thank you brother. I better go and get ready.” I shove another granola bar in his mouth.

I easily assemble the outfit he was going to wear. After all my spying, I’m sure I would have selected something as tasteful. I skip the gold paisley and decide on a ‘men in black’ look, almost exactly as he had on at the gala. A quick shower, 20 minutes with my hair and another 20 to dress and I’m still 36 minutes early for Tommy.

“How do I look Willy? Now be honest.” I ask walking into the bedroom.

He checks me out head to toe. “You look good Will. You’re wearing my good watch?”

“My good watch brother, remember? You wore your smaller ring at the gala but I stuck with what I had on coming back from London. I think I looks great. Went with the gold black onyx cufflinks. And dude I even had my name embossed inside the suit, sweet!” I open up my jacket.

“You’ve been watching my videos.” He realizes.

“Of course, and reading your diary, all the way back to when dad drove me to ‘New Starts’ and abandoned me. I’m good Willy, been watching you for a month.”

Just then my phone rings in breast pocket. I pull it out and see it’s Tommy.

“Now keep quiet Willy or you know what’ll happen.” I warn him as I answer. “What’s up Tommy? On your way…yeah early is good, I’m ready… Okay, that sounds good, see you soon.”

“Please don’t drug me bro, I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Sorry Willy, can’t take any chances. Besides, Tommy mentioned about having a drink when he gets here. Sounds like it’s routine for you guys. What does he drink?”

“Rum and Coke, lots in the fridge just for him.”

I grab the knock out needle and give him a dose. He doesn’t fight me at all.

“Why thank you bro. I’ll see you later tonight maybe, if you’re awake.” I laugh as I leave and lock the door.

Tommy walks in without knocking, making his way to my bar as I make my way down the stairs. He sees me and lifts the glasses.

“The usual?”

“Sure, sounds good to me.” he’s right at home, grabbing the rum and coke.

“Cheers!” he hands me one, we clink glasses and swig.

I follow Tommy’s lead the entire evening but I know enough about Will to discuss his trip, girlfriend and work. Tommy talks about his auditions for a few movies and a commercial. Sadly for him, I’m a bigger celebrity than he is, as a few people ask for my autograph while waiting to be seated. Tricia has seats for us right next to the window with the best view of LA. It a fun night as a few of Tricia’s friends join us. It’s easy playing Will and his friends. I have everything put on my tab. Thank god he has an early audition for a new Marvel movie, so we leave and I’m home by midnight.

MORE WORK

I’m up early but Willy is out cold still. He looks like death, probably from all the injections and being upright on the chair for days. Not that I really care as it gives me more ‘Will Time’. To keep in character, I put on some of his work out gear, grab my iPod and do my usual run around the park. I work up quite the sweat but it probably helps with all the alcohol Tommy and I consumed. I check on Willy and he’s now awake and not happy. A quick injection allows me to get him relieved and toss him in the shower. He’s not putting up any resistance so I give him breakfast, leave him in the tub but making sure to securely handcuff him to a grip bar. I take my morning shower in the same shower so I can keep an eye on him.

Willy is so beaten that he’s stopped resisting completely and is cooperative even. Believing that by helping me, I’ll get what I want from him and leave him to his old life. What he’s doing is sealing his fate faster. Once I no longer need him, we’ll head up to my parent’s cabin in the mountains and he’ll be fertilizer.

After I towel off, I sit on the toilet seat next to Willy.

“How you feeling Willy?” I ask trying to sound concerned.

“Please Will, can I stay here in the tub all day? I promise I’ll be good.”

“I think I can do that but you have to be knocked out. But sure thing. Tommy is a fun guy bro. He sure loves his rum & cokes. We had a blast. I think he was hurt that women were coming up to me for my autograph but not him.”

“Yeah, that’s happened before when we’re out.” He looks really down.

“What is it bro? you look sad.”

“What do you think? I’m chained up and I can’t believe people are falling for your act.” he gets a little feisty.

“Come on bro, how could they not think I was anybody but Will Witt? Don’t worry, no one suspects a thing, so we’re good but I need your help with today’s schedule – sorta of ‘what would Will do’ session just to make sure I don’t fuck anything up for you. Okay?”

“Sure Will, it’s what I live for.” he responds sarcastically.

“How do you come up with the topics for your MOTSs?”

“Who do you think? Dad, you know how opinionated he is. When we had dinner in London, he rattled off six topics for me to cover and things he’d ask these snowflakes.”

“Ah I thought you sounded a lot like dad when interviewing people. That explains the notes on your iPad. By the way, I’m having dinner with the rents Friday night, having them meet Lisa.” I just smile at him. “Now about today’s pics, what should I wear? ‘What would Will wear’?”

“We’ve been through this – my new bespoke suit.”

“Exactly what you’d wear today – into the office and for the shoot. I’m just trying to help you Willy.”

“Dennis is always pushing for me in more suits and ties, to be taken more seriously outside the campus forum. Keep it simple – black button down shirt, my charcoal brooks brothers suit. For the shoot, the bespoke of course and take all my new dress shirts and ties, many pairs of cufflinks. I love my gold paisley tie, the one you wore last night. Hopefully you didn’t ruin it.”

“No, I went with a black tie, so the paisley is fine.”

“There’s a large suit bag in the back of my closet that can hold everything you’ll need.’

“I have to tell you bro, I’m gaining a real appreciation for your closet. My tastes have really matured in the past months. What’s with the glasses though?”

“They’re for eye strain bro, giving my eyes a break now from the contact lenses. I also wear them for important interviews or meetings where I want to look more mature and smarter.”

“Well your glasses and contacts work great for me too. My eyes have been changing but I never had them checked. Now, what about the shoot? Who’s going to be there? How does it work? What does Will do?” I press him.

“It’s a larger version of my down stair studio. Someone will come get me when it’s my turn, take me to changing room, then make up, then to the set – green screen. It’s easy really. There’ll be people in and out all day long.”

“People like who?”

“Candace, Charlie Kirk, Dave Rubin, Guy Benson and many others. It’ll be a few days of craziness.”

“Nice! Do I have any nicknames or personal things with any of them? Like, how do you address Candace? or Charlie?” He stutters and hesitates. “Spill it or more drugs. Besides, you don’t want me to fuck up anything with your friends now do you?”

“Candace is ‘Candy’ jokingly, she’s getting married in a few weeks.” He continues with the others. I’ll use the information but it sounds childish – something a more mature, evolving Will would never use. I’ll phase that nonsense out.

“Good to know. Thanks. I’ve got to get ready for work.” I grin at him.

Dennis Prager alluded to my evolving image during lunch and that I should be wearing more conservative outfits. I agree completely with the boss and love the image. With that in mind, I ignore Willy’s suggestion and go ultra conservative. I remember a beautiful light blue shirt with white contrasting collar and cuffs that ‘I’ve’ worn a few times. It would be ultra conservative with my gray Brooks.

In Will fashion, I lay out my work outfit on the bed, adding all the details. When I’m satisfied, I pull it on my underwear and socks, pull on my pants. After I add the belt, I pull on the Brooks shirt. To keep with the Brooks theme, as Will likes to do, I select the Brooks tie that he wore previously. The whole image screams ultra conservative and looks great. I add white gold cufflinks, his smaller ring and gold watch. I pull on the jacket and stare at myself in the mirror. I put some gel in my hair then fix it exactly as in the pic I found in an old MOTS video. Oh, almost forgot my tie clip. He’s famous on Instagram for his tie clips? I clip one on and it completes my image. I flash a Will smile and fingers. “What’s Up Guys?”.

I must have nailed the look because when I entered the toilet, Willy’s mouth dropped. In the bathroom mirror, I admire myself, tug on my cuffs and adjust my tie. I don’t say a word.

“Well aren’t you Will Witt.” He comments snidely but I ignore him for a few more minutes as I run my hand thru my hair.

“Who else would I be?” I turn around to face him. “What’s Up Guys, Will Witt for Prager U.” flash my peace sign to him, pretending I’m holding a microphone.

“Probably a better choice for today. No pocket square Will?”

“Oh shit, totally didn’t notice.”

“In drawer under jewelry box.” He answers me without even asking. I run to his closet, find a nice silk white one neatly folded in a square. I tuck it in my suit pocket and check myself out in the mirror quickly.

“Better?” He’s silent.

I pull out his preppy glasses and put on and off. “Glasses, no glasses?” I look at him.

“I don’t care, up to you.”

“Know what, think I’ll have pics taken both ways. I think they make me look older, which would kill my ‘frat boy’ image on college campuses but might help me with the older generation.” I turn to look at his expression but he looks broken. “I love this suit bro, it fits me great. I made sure the knot was right by noting the length of the tie, and location of stripes. Not used to wearing one, almost forgot the tie clip – my fans would have blown up over such a faux pas.”

“True, they watch everything I post.”

“Ok bro, I need to get to work, busy day ahead. I’ll probably be late tonight because Mike wants to do Furley’s for happy hour. I’ll let you in the bathtub so you’re comfortable but how about something to help you sleep?”

“No don’t do that please, I’ll be good.” He begs.

I ignore him, grab the needle and knock him out for the day.

I jump in my 911 and head in for another day in the life of Will Witt. The suit bag weighs about 30lbs and takes up the entire seat of my 911. Everyone accepts me and I keep learning more and more. The lingo is coming naturally to me. The routine of emails, small talk and understanding my role is easy.

I hang my suit bag and jacket on the back of my office door, grab my coffee mug and ease into the day. Just before lunch, Nicki, one of the film staff comes for me – it’s my turn. I’m seated in in one of the dressing rooms, in a makeup chair, in front of the mirror. Collette comes in all smiles.

“Will, you’re looking great.”

“You too, so let’s get started. I’ve got a lot to do today on top of these pics.”

“There’s something we’d like to do different this time.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds ominous.”

“Well, how about we cut your hair some?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that Collette, it’s my signature, my “conservative with the best hair”.” Sounding uncertain for effect.

“Well, I was talking to Dennis and Joel, and we feel you should be the focus, not your hair. We’re not talking about shaving your head, just toning down the cowlick some. If you don’t like, it’ll be back in a few months.”

I think about it for a minute, running my hand through my cowlick, looking at Will in the mirror. I’ve seen videos where the wind destroys his giant flop, part of his gig but in the end, I nod in approval and let Prager U redo my image.

The ‘Will’ PR shoot was so simple, but time consuming. They brought in some famous stylist from West Hollywood to cut my hair – it took an hour! They went through my suit bag and laid out a number of outfits but didn’t question my taste. They took multiple pics of me in 5 different outfits including what I wore in this morning. I was there for hours. At the end of the day, we head to Furley’s as planned for happy hour. I left on my new suit and last outfit I was photographed in. What a happy hour – hanging with Charlie Kirk, Ben Shapiro and other famous conservatives was incredible. Thanks to Will’s unedited interview videos, I knew exactly what small talk he had with a number of these conservative celebrities and played them perfectly.

When I get home, my first stop is to taunt Willy still tied up in bathtub.

“Hey bro, this suit is simply amazing. You were right, the shoot was really easy, except for having to change every 20 minutes. Like my haircut?” I tease

“What did you do to my hair?”

“Willy, remember, it’s my hair. It’s a shorter, more mature, conservative cut. Everyone loves it. I still have the best hair of any conservative. I texted it to mom and she loves it too.” I open up the iPhone and scroll thru pics from the shoot, then laugh and leave to change into sweats. Following the same routine, I inject Willy, help him to bathroom, feed him and put him to bed. In just a few days, he’s totally changed from being in control to being dependent. He’s definitely a shadow of himself but I’m now casting his shadow.

Every day as Will gets easier as I seamlessly take over his life. I’m sure I’ve slipped up a few times but since no one knows Will has a twin, who would suspect me? Wednesday at work was incredible. I helped with the rest of the PR shoot, chatted with all of my new conservative friends. I especially liked talking to Dave Rubin and Candace Owens. I had dinner with everyone that evening and it went really late. By the time I got home, Willy had wetted himself. I was so pissed that I shoved a hot pocket in his mouth, hosed him off and drugged him heavily.

On Thursday Gavi and I do a man on the street, at Santa Monica Pier. I nailed it – quickly picking up Will’s attitude and methods. It was easy after watching all his videos from the past year. Back in the office I sit down with Gavi, edit his video and work with Alexander to add the graphics.

Willy is awake when I get home. His eyes scan me from top to bottom then he starts yelling through the ball gag.

“Hang on Willy.” I pop out the ball gag.

“I hate you Willy and I’m done playing your game.” He spits and hits me on my shorts.

I gut punch him with all my force, then inject him to keep him docile. “Now Willy, we’ll get you on the potty and fed quickly. I don’t have a lot of time, Lisa and I are going to dinner at mom and dad’s. I really like her.”

I get Willy settled, take a quick shower and head out to pick up Lisa. Dinner is a breeze as Lisa is the center of attention. There’s no discussion of Willy at all – just about me and how proud they are of everything I’m doing. As I expected, they were totally clueless I wasn’t their precious little Will. I have to admit, it felt great being home. I showed Lisa my old bedroom and got a BJ on Will’s bed. It was like old times, like his other girlfriends I fooled. Mom and dad announced they’re heading to Hawaii to celebrate their 30th wedding anniversary and ask me to watch the house while they’re gone. More time to get reacquainted with my new life as their loving son Will. I spend the night at Lisa’s but get up early to take care of things at home, then work.

Willy is awake and pissed more when I check in on him.

“Morning Willy.” I cheerfully announce.

“You’re Willy asswipe.” He yells back.

I gut punch him with all my force. “Don’t make me repeat myself Willy, now who am I?”

“You’re Will, Will Witt.” He’s barely able to speak, I hit him so hard.

“Now that’s much better Willy. Let’s get you to the bathroom and fed.” I inject him and continue talking while it takes effect.

“So, mom and dad love Lisa bro. I think she’s really falling for me. She gave me a BJ in my old bedroom. Sadly, your old bedroom is now a workout room with no trace of you at all. I showed Lisa my swimming and track trophies, tried on my old letterman jacket and gave her the whole Will Witt history. Can you believe mom and dad are celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary? I can’t!” I lay it on thick as the caring son that Will is.

“Fuck off.” The mumbles.

“Oh Willy, don’t make me hurt you more.” I warn him. I can see the drugs have kicked in, and start untying him. Just as I loosen the last night, Willy tries a fast one on me, trying to tackle me to the floor. I’ve wrestled him too many times and know his ‘plays’ and another gut punch and I’m dragging him into the bathroom. A quick shower, shit and breakfast bar and he’s good for another 12 hours.

Once he’s secured, I jump in shower and prep for another day in the office. Fridays are so routine with a team strategy meeting for upcoming projects/videos/content. This is followed by lunch and office time till happy hour at Furley’s. After happy hour, I meet Lisa and a bunch of her friends out for more drinks and dancing, then back to her place.

END OF THE ROAD

I’m up early and skip out of Lisa’s, telling her I have some chores to do for my parents and I’ll be tied up all weekend. Willy is awake and thrashing about trying to get loose. I enter the bedroom smiling, and clap my hands.

“Willy, good news! Road trip bro! We’re going to the cabin to take care of some things for Dad. I thought you’d enjoy it.”

He stares at me, blood shot eyes, a week of facial hair, looking like crap. “Good, could I sleep in one of the bunk beds?”

“Sure thing bro, then we’ll talk about next steps here.” He calms down, feeling better, probably thinking he’s getting his life back. He’s not.

I drug him, give him a shower, get him dressed and fed. The next morning, I get him ready for 4 hour trip to the cabin. The dosage I gave him should keep him out for most of the trip. I pack some clothes and fishing gear in case I get the urge. We leave at 5am to avoid any traffic.

He sleeps the entire journey and I don’t stop once. I’m careful to drive the speed limit to not attract any attention from state police. I pull up to the cabin before 9am. There’s no one around, no one on the lake even – all peaceful and quiet. With Willy securely tied up in the car, I walk around the cabin inspecting the place, reminiscing about our family outings and fishing trips. In the rear about 500 feet from the house is an old well that’s been dry for years. Dad has been talking about filling it in for safety for years, but never did. It’s the perfect place to hide a body.

When I get back to the car, Willy is stirring. I help him out of the car and walk him inside the cabin.

“Will, untie me please. My arms and wrists are killing me.” He pleas.

“Sure thing.” Knowing he’s drugged still and couldn’t run anywhere or harm me.

We walk out to the back porch and I hand him a coke and sandwich. He sits on the step eating and enjoying the partial view of the lake. I laced the coke with enough fentanyl to kill him – he’ll just pass out and die peacefully.

“So what’s the plan Will? I guessing this is it for me. Am I right.” As he takes a large chug of the coke.

“Yeah that’s about it Willy. You won’t feel a thing though, you’ll just fall asleep. Hope you enjoyed the coke, no after taste?”

“Nah, it tasted fine. You know I need a few cokes a day to keep the energy up.”

“Yeah, it’s a habit I’ve had to adopt. You know Willy, I’ve always been a better you and this life is perfect for me. Don’t worry, I love my new life and have seamlessly integrated into it. I’ll take good care of it.”

He’s in a daze now, the drug is kicking in. I help him up and over to an Adirondack chair near the fire pit. He puts his head back and starts breathe erratically. Within minutes he stops breathing. I waste no time stripping and dumping him in the well. I grab a shovel and start shoveling dirt into the well until I can’t see any evidence. For good measure I add another foot of dirt on top of that.

I’m exhausted after that, take a shower and dress in clean clothes. In town I grab a bite at Palmer’s diner – a dive with good food. As I’m sitting there finishing up with a piece of Apple pie, Rob Decker, an old friend of me and Will come up to me. He’s a local who owns a few small businesses, most inherited from his father.

“Will! How are you man? Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” He grabs my hand and shakes it hard.

“Rob, good to see you! Dad asked me to check on the cabin and I needed a break from LA. I’m heading back to tomorrow.”

“Dude, got your gear?”

“Of course, was going to try the old creek before heading home.”

“I’ll join you, heck, even Tommy will go. He’ll be thrilled to see you. He was talking about your videos on Facebook.”

“Sound great Rob, stop by tomorrow morning whenever.”

Back at the cabin, I start a campfire and relax. Once it’s burning good, I grab Willy’s clothes and toss it all in. I have an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and freedom now. I have a few beers and watch the fire slowly burn out. Sunday morning Rob and Tommy show up at 6am. They don’t even mention my brother Willy even though we were all friends growing up. We have a blast and they want to come to the big city and party with me soon.

I fly back late Sunday afternoon and clean up my condo – unmounting the chair, smoothing over the holes in my carpet, cleaning the bathroom and tossing out the rest of Willy’s clothes. I call Lisa and invite her to my place tomorrow night for dinner and love making.

Monday morning I’m in full Will Witt mode. I wake up and take my run, shower and fuss with my hair for 20 minutes. In keeping with Dennis’ wishes, I up my conservative appearance to match my new haircut. My new bespoke Saville Row suit anchors my identity as the only Will Witt. It’s teamed with my favorite blue Brooks Brothers shirt with white contrasting cuffs and collars. I pair it with my new shoes and favorite tie I’ve worn a few times. Joel loves my new attitude and appearance. At lunch, I pull a typical Will move – I escape to a nearby restaurant, hang out and work on my schedule as is habit.

Life is great now. I have tons of friends and fans. Prager U is very lucrative and I’m in demand across the US and world for speaking appearances. No one suspects I’m not Will. I love the notoriety and acceptance. I even love my preppy wardrobe and new style. It’s grown on me and I’ll maintain it.

#twin #imposter #transformation #revenge #straight sex #stolen identity #evil twin #twin swap

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toosicktoocare · 5 years

Text

prompt: Could I request another sick T.K. but pushing through the illness during work and maybe passing out? 🥰 your writing is incredible and I always check your page when I log in 😊😊

Carlos had been sick, picking up a small cold from another officer, but TK had insisted at the time that he didn’t care and still wanted to sleep with him, banking on a relatively strong immune system to keep the virus at bay; however, perhaps his immune system’s been compromised due to previous drug intake because he wakes for his shift two days after sleeping with Carlos to a throat that burns with each swallow and a headache that thumps softly against his temples.

He’s hot. His blankets feel smoldering and heavy against his skin, and he kicks them off with a groan that brings with it a few dry coughs. He brings a fist to his mouth, coughing into it as he swings his legs over the bed and slides to his feet. The quick motion blurs his vision, and he brings one hand to his head, the headache pushing to a steady pounding now.

“Shit,” he mutters around a few, lingering coughs. He tugs at his shirt collar, hoping to bring some cool air to his heated skin, and stumbles to his bathroom, sluggishly opening his medicine cabinet and reaching around until his hand finds the Ibuprofen bottle. Snagging it, he moves to close his mirror, stopping when his hand brushes against a digital thermometer.

Carlos never had a fever; he didn’t even really have a cough. He was congested, a little more tired than usual, nose irritated and red-rimmed from sneezing, but that was it. TK ghosts his fingers right above the thermometer, and he almost forgoes it entirely, but as if to push him, a wave of heat washes over him, burning at his face, his cheeks, and he snags it with a sigh, turning it on and popping it under his tongue as he opens the Ibuprofen and shakes out a few pills.

The thermometer doesn’t take long to beep quietly, and he plucks it from his lips, frown pulling at the corners of his lips as his eyes stare hard at the 101.2 degree reading. He puts it away, opting to keep this to himself, and pops a few pills into his mouth, washing them down with water cupped in his palm. The pills grate against his sore throat, and he winces as he strips and steps into his shower, putting the water on a cooler temperature to chase away the heat.

The cool stream washes over his heated skin, and he presses one arm to the bathroom wall and drops his forehead against his arm, eyes fluttering closed as he goes still, only letting the shower break the heat. He zones out, almost nodding off, feeling far too fatigued after a full night’s sleep, and he only comes to when the water goes from a pleasant cool to a piercing cold that has him jerking awake with a trembling gasp. His hands shake as he quickly moves through familiar motions of washing himself, and he’s stumbling out of the shower four minutes later, shivering hard, teeth chattering, as he grabs a towel and pulls it around himself.

Drying himself is hard. His limbs have succumbed to a chill that he can’t wipe away with a towel, yet his face still feels oddly hot, and he knows it’s the fever. His reflection when he walks by the mirror is pale, worn, yet his cheeks are colored a deep red, and he presses the back of his hand to his cheek, feeling the heat warm his cold hand.

It’s fine, he tells himself. He just has to wait for the medicine to kick in, and then he will be fine. He’s not in a job position where he can call out from a cold, not when there are so many lives on the line daily. He slips into sweats and pulls a soft, yellow hoodie over his head, slipping into a pair of sneakers before snagging his bag as he starts out of the room.

His dad’s cooking. He can smell omelettes the second he steps into the hall, and his stomach churns at the strong whiffs of eggs and peppers. Swallowing thickly, he takes a moment to compose himself because he has to, and then he steps into the kitchen just as Owen’s plating an omelette.

“Good morning, TK!” Owen sings, voice rising and falling in a made up melody, and TK opens his mouth to reply, but then a tickle hits his nose, and he, instead, turns away to sneeze sharply three times into the crook of his arm, groaning around a light sniffle when he brings his eyes back to Owen.

“Maybe not such a good morning?” Owen asks, eyes hyper-focused on the flush clinging to TK’s cheeks, standing out against too pale skin, and on the soft tremors that TK tries to hid by crossing his arms. “You look terrible.”

“Wow,” TK drags out, wincing at the pain in his throat and the congestion thick in his voice, “thanks, dad.” He moves to slip past Owen to the fridge, forced to maneuver around Owen’s outstretched hand reaching toward his face.

“TK,” Owen starts, concern etched across his forehead. “Your flushed. You look like you’re running a fever.”

TK’s been expecting this ever since he caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and despite his pounding head muddling his thoughts, he’s worked through three possible conversations that will come from his current appearance, and he shrugs, opting for the nonchalant route as he grabs his reusable water bottle from the fridge, having left it in there to chill overnight.

“I just got out of the shower.”

“I know,” Owen says, and TK freezes, not expecting that response. He spins around slowly, frown painted across his lips, and he tilts his head in silent question.

“Your hair’s suffering,” Owen mutters, motioning toward his own hair. “You haven’t styled it. You always style it.”

“I woke up late.”

“No, you didn’t. Your alarm went off at the same time it always does.”

Rolling his eyes, TK turns back around, filling his bottle up with water. “Creepy much?” He asks, going for a joke, but Owen doesn’t take to it, only sighing behind TK.

“I’m fine,” TK mutters, coughing lightly as he turns back to face his dad. “Carlos had a cold, and I guess I caught it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing as if trying to will his headache away.

“You should take your temperature,” Owen starts, turning to leave the room, but TK stops him, calling to him around a few more coughs.

“Dad, stop. I already did, and I’m fine,” he mutters out the lie, sniffling lightly. “I have a headache that I’ve already taken medicine for. I’m just waiting for it to kick in.”

“You should take off today.”

“And risk the entire team calling out favoritism because the captain’s son gets to stay home with a small cold? No thanks.” TK snags his keys from the key dish on the counter.

“It’s not favoritism,” Owen says sharply, yet the frown pulled at his lips contradicts his tone. “I would let anyone take a sick day if they’re feeling unwell. Your health and safety is always my top priority.”

“When are you going to make it yours?” TK asks under his breath, and he’s forced to look away at the pained look Owen shoots him, bringing his eyes to his feet.

“TK--”

“--it’s fine,” TK says, sighing. He brings his gaze back to his dad’s. “I’m fine. I’ll see you at the station.”

*****

After hours of his team picking at him, for his hair being “too floppy,” to his voice sounding “dumb,” as Probie so nicely put it, to the light-hearted, disgusted shouts every time he coughs or sneezes, TK’s silently thankful to be on their last call, a head-on collision on a remote back road.

He feels considerably worse. Though he’s been taking medicine every four hours, the Ibuprofen is doing nothing to touch his headache, and he’s been alternating from hot to cold all day, a clear indication that the medicine hasn’t even come close to touching the fever he’s been running. His voice is rough from coughing, weak, cracking, almost gone entirely, and his jacket pockets are stuffed with tissues.

He feels miserable, and he takes a moment to cough harshly into his fist, hunching in on himself, as the others hop out of the truck and start toward the scene, with only Judd lingering behind.

“That doesn’t sound good, TK.”

“I’m fine.” TK snaps, but he doesn’t mean to. He’s been the center of his father’s concerned gaze all day, and frankly, it’s aggravating him to no end. Five different times his dad’s managed to snag him aside and question how he’s feeling, try to feel for a fever, just general doting that he doesn’t want.

“Being sick sure does make you cranky,” Judd grumbles, and TK sighs shakily, groaning low in his throat when fever chills replace the previous heat that’s been mercilessly clinging to his bones. He hops out of the truck, crossing his arms, and he shoots Judd an apologetic look before slipping his helmet on.

“Sorry,” he offers, turning away to sneeze sharply into the crook of his arm. “Cap’s been hounding me all day about this, and I just want to work in peace.” He brings his face back toward Judd, reflexes too slow to dodge the hand that sneaks past his helmet’s visor to feel at his forehead.

“He’s hounding you with good reason,” Judd grumbles, bringing his hand back with a frown. “You’re on fire.”

“I’m fine,” TK pushes, and Judd opens his mouth to retort, but then there’s a lot of shouting, and they whip around to see Owen calling out orders.

“Get the jaws of life! We’ve got someone not breathing trapped in there!”

TK falls into quick motion, moving along Owen’s orders, doing what he can to assist his team, to free those trapped in both cars. For a moment, he forgets everything, his headache, his fever, the heat pouring off his face, but then, when he turns to grab a neck brace for Michelle, the heat from his face washes over his entire body, different from before, different from the heat of a fever. It’s engulfing, and it blurs his vision. He stumbles to a stop, blinking rapidly to try and clear his eyesight.

It’s not working, and he can feel his chest constricting against the panic that slams at him. His ears begin to ring, the heat begins to grow far too unbearable, and the next time he blinks, his vision is gray, and then he blinks again and everything goes dark.

*****

“-K?”

TK starts to come to slowly, struggling against the heavy weight of a headache pushing against this temples, down his neck, to his shoulders. He feels like lead, and he can feel someone shaking his shoulder, touching his neck, his forehead.

“”Tyler Kennedy Strand, open your eyes right now!”

There are two people in Texas who know TK’s full name, and that booming, worried tone is not Carlos. TK’s eyes snap open, and Owen’s face mixes with relief and concern.

“There you are,” Owen mutters, hand sliding down TK’s cheek, worry etched across his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

TK moves to push past Owen, memories flooding back slowly. His body’s shaking, but he pushes up into a sitting position, looking over Owen’s shoulder toward the car. “The girl,” he mutters, lungs bursting and bringing forth thick, heavy coughs. “Is she--”

“--she’s fine,” Owen says, hand clamped to TK’s shoulder to keep him upright. “You, on the other hand, are not.”

“What happened?” TK asks, eyes frantic, darting between those surrounding him, falling to Carlos, who’s sporting an unreadable expression.

“You fainted,” Owen answers, but when TK moves to stand, he tightens his grip. “Woah, TK, easy. You should get checked by Michelle first.”

“I’m--”

“--if you say you’re fine one more time,” Owen snaps, and TK goes still, flopping back against the grass, draping an arm over his head. He starts shaking when the chills pick back up, and he remains lying on the ground, tuning out the voices over him as he’s looked over by the EMTs.

*****

TK fell asleep as soon as Owen brought him home and urged him to take the flu medication they picked up on their way back, and he sleeps for hours, only coming to to quiet voices from the living room. Opening his eyes is hard, swallowing around the dryness painted in his throat is harder. He coughs, pushing up into a sitting position as rough coughs jerk against his lungs. He slips out of the bed, bringing his blanket with him, wrapping it over his shoulders, and he stumbles out of his room, dizzy yet curious.

He makes it to the living room, shivering, jaw clenched to keep his teeth from clacking together, and he drops against the door frame, arching one brow at his dad and Carlos chatting on the couch.

“What is this?” He asks, turning to cough into his blanket, and Carlos starts toward him, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Your bed head is cute.”

“Stop,” TK whines, moving to pull the blanket over the back of his head. “Why are you here?” He looks past Carlos to Owen. “It’s 2 AM.”

“Carlos wanted to stop by and check on you,” Owen answers, moving out of the living room to his own room. “I’ll leave you two alone. Not too late, Carlos. He needs rest.”

“Dad,” TK drags out, coughing weakly, and Carlos nods and bids Owen a good night.

“Why are you up?”

“The sound of my fuck buddy and my father talking is bound to wake me up,” TK grumbles, and Carlos laughs quietly and brushes the back of his hand to TK’s forehead.

“You feel warmer than before,” Carlos frowns, and TK sags against him, dropping his head to Carlos’ shoulder.

“I feel like shit,” he grumbles, sighing softly when Carlos’ arms wrap around him. “How did you get a small cold and I got the fucking flu?”

“Remember when you said you were too busy to get your flu shot?”

“Fuck off,” TK spits out weakly, and Carlos’ laughing vibrates against him, warm and comfortable, and he moves easily as Carlos guides him back to his bedroom. “Are you going to stay?” he asks, climbing back into his bed, and Carlos arches a brow.

“I was going to ask if that was okay.”

“You’re already BFFs with my dad,” TK mutters, sleeping pulling at him sharply. “You might as well now.”

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tagsecretsanta · 4 years

Text

From @Thundergeek59

to @little-old-rachel

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author mentioned above!

AN: This is only my second fic and I thought it was only going to be a couple of paragraphs, however, Jeff decided to take this over totally and ran away with it. I now know what you writers mean when you say your characters take over! I hope you like it, I had fun writing it

Rating: Gen/Family fun

Wordcount: 2900 ish

Jeff sat up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, toeing on his slippers. It was still dark as he reached for his cane and shrugged his dressing gown round his shoulders. “May as well get up as toss and turn in bed”. Stuffing his communicator cuff in his pocket, he padded out his door and headed to the kitchen.

Grabbing a small bottle of juice and a couple of biscuits he headed out towards the pool deck and sat on one of the loungers. Idly munching the biscuit he gazed at the pool, lit up by the underwater lights, and his mind wandering back to Gordon’s pre-Olympic training when he used to time him with his stopwatch, then chuckling as he remembered having to dive-bomb his little fishie in a vain effort to get him out of the pool, several hours later.

“Oh Lucy, our little fish is all grown and you’d be so proud of him – of all of them”

With a sigh, he pulled himself up on his cane and continued walking down the path to the beach where Virgil had thoughtfully built a bench for him so he didn’t have to sit on the sand, which only thinly covered the sharp volcanic rock. From here he could look out to the bird colony on Mateo. He remembered his first few weeks back home, when easily overwhelmed by boys and noise, he had sought the solitude by the beach. Just listening to the waves ebb and flow calmed his mind.

He looked to the red glint just gracing the edges of the horizon and realised Gordon would be up soon to power though his pool routine while Scott would be just behind, setting off round the island on his daily run. Eight years and some things never changed while others were irredeemably different.

It was Virgil who caught him by surprise with a hand gently placed on his shoulder. “Hey dad, we’re going to get the tree now, do you want to come along?” “Thanks for the offer but I think I better stay and help your Grandma with dinner preparations.” He declined. “You sure? We’d love you to join us and anyway, Max is there to help in the kitchen and Ridley and Kayo will be available to fix any potential culinary catastrophes”.

“I’d only be a hindrance with this” he replied, waving his stick. “Actually dad, I have an idea I think you might like”. Intrigued, Jeff let himself be persuaded, hoping he wouldn’t regret it.

As soon as Virgil had set down Two at the edge of the forest, Scott and John set about configuring a suitable pod. With Gordon awaiting the arrival of Lady Penelope and Alan still in bed, the party consisted of Jeff and his three eldest and he was looking forward to just doing something social with his boys, a nice change from being ferried to hospital appointments. He was, however, starting to wonder what form Virgil’s surprise idea would take when he heard a soft cough behind him, announcing said son’s arrival.

The sight that greeted him as he turned around was not what he was expecting. In front of Virgil was a fully functioning hoversleigh, complete with T2’s green livery with the addition of red flames down the side, a red padded seat with a matching throw. Words failed him, causing a worried frown to appear between Virgil’s brows, until a deep chuckle rose from Jeff, and a smile twitched at the corner of Virgil’s mouth, pleased that his dad had felt comfortable enough to let his lighter side out. “Certainly is different” laughed Jeff as Virgil helped him into the sleigh.

Scott and John’s faces were a picture as the hatch descended with Virgil and their father. “Oh my word, you really did it!” John exclaimed as both brothers tried to stifle their guffaws when they saw their father with a green bobble hat and gloves, looking like one of Santa’s helpers sitting in the sleigh.

“Well, I’d been tinkering with the old hover bikes back at the ranch and decided to see how far I could take the modifications and, well, here she is...”

“Well, let’s see what this baby can do” said Jeff as he pushed the controller forward and... nothing. A quizzical look at Virgil “Safety feature. You gotta push the red button first but be careful, I haven’t fully tested.....” He couldn’t finish the sentence due to the cloud of snow covering him.

“WooHooooo” Jeff whooped as he surged forward down the track, leaving them all brushing snow off themselves.

“You do remember that he likes to go very, very fast” Scott said

“Yep, better jump in the pod and catch him before he heads out of sight” added John. ‘C’mon Virg, hop on”.

Scott steered the pod at speed, following the trail of snow kicked up by the sleigh. After several hair-raising twists and turns Jeff had managed to turn the sleigh into a clearing and was doing doughnut spins, thoroughly enjoying himself. Finally he came screeching to a halt mere inches from his sons, who were once more coated with a dusting of snow. “Gee Virgil, that’s gotta be the best fun I’ve had in years! Reminds me of that time Lee and I tested out the moon rover on Alfie.”

“I’m pleased you had fun, but I hadn’t got around to telling giving you the low-down on all it’s features”.

“Well, as an Airforce pilot you kinda just learn on the job, part of the fun really, isn’t that right Scott”. “Sure dad, but you just about gave me a heart attack back there.” “Ah sorry, Scotty, but you gotta admit, if it had been you trying her out, you’d have done the exact same thing”. “I guess so” Scott conceded.

While Jeff and Scott had been talking, John had been surveying area, seeking out the perfect tree. “That one, over there, what do you think Vigil”. “Looks good to me, lemme bring the pod into position” Virgil replied as he hopped up onto the pod and drove it over to the tree, Scott and Jeff following in it’s wake.

“Ok guys let’s do this. John, you take that side. Virgil, get into position with the saw and dad and I will be over here to tell you when to stop cutting and get the pod grapples ready” Pure IR commander front and centre. “Yes, and I’ll be shouting encouragement from the sidelines” chuckled Jeff. He’d had time to see his boys work together over the past few months and marvelled at how seamlessly they all fitted together, deferring to each other’s greater expertise. He’d learnt from bitter experience that his opinions on the best way for them to do something, more often than not screwed with their well oil system and got them second-guessing themselves, which was not what was needed in the field.

He was fortunate, so fortunate that his boys had developed the way they had, working in the way they did and in the process, turning IR into something more than what he had originally envisaged. He’d been away from it all for too long to be able to step back in and run it the way he had and he was coming to terms with that, despite how much his pride and sense of usefulness had been hurt.

“You’d have loved this Lucy – just look at our boys working so well together, just like they did when they were little”.

“You ok dad?” John was first to notice the faraway look in his fathers’ eyes. “Yes, I’m fine, just telling your mother about you all”. John gave Scott a look, who in turn quirked an eyebrow at Virgil. Virgil imperceptibly shook is head. Jeff, watching the exchange and remembering how they had been doing this since they were children – saying so much without uttering a word. “I know those looks, and no, I’m not crazy, you gotta remember that for 8 years I only had your mother to talk to, so it’s got to be a bit of a habit.”

The boys looked anywhere but at their father, feeling caught out with muffled apologies. “C’mon lets get this tree strapped onto the pod and back home” Virgil successfully diverted the conversation to the matter in hand.

It didn’t take too long to get back to Thunderbird 2, Jeff taking a slightly more sedate pace on the return journey. What the boys didn’t know was that the reason for the slower pace would make itself apparent as soon as they exited the pod.

Whooooosh...... splat! A perfect hit and a whoop of joy from the elf in the sleigh. Scott looked down at the remains of the snowball that was gracing his uniform. “You did not just snowball me, did you? Scott scooped up a handful himself “You know what that means.....” “You wouldn’t hit an old man in a sleigh?” Words were barely out of his mouth when Whumph... direct shot to the sleigh, there followed a rapid volley from the sleigh to the other two sons. Virgil and John only had time to cast a quick glance at each other when they realised what was going on before Boooooffffff..... fluuuuufffff.......Thwaaaak!

In the meantime, Scott was building a small cache of snowballs, ever prepared, ready to dive into the fray. He decided that his chances were better if he and Jeff teamed up against Virgil and John. Whilst Jeff could quickly manoeuvre the sleigh out of some of the shots, not all could be avoided. Virgil had the strength and John had the trajectory calculations going on in his head, weighing up the best type of snowball for the distances involved – enough to make a good splatter but not hard enough to cause damage to sleigh or person. The were quite a formidable team against age and experience.

“Okay, okay, I concede defeat” Jeff laughed as one final snowball splattered against his gloved hands raised in mock surrender. It had been a long time since he’d seen them rosy cheeked in the cold air, just enjoying themselves, “Well, I think it’s definitely time to head back to the Island” John shivered as they loaded pod, Christmas tree and sleigh onto Two’s elevator. “But we need to make a quick stop off en-route” added Virgil. “What could we possibly need on Christmas eve that we haven’t already got” Jeff queried. “Wait and see” was his reply.

Thunderbird Two took off as soon as everyone was strapped in. Virgil and Scott in the pilot and co-pilot seats with Jeff and John behind in the passenger seats. Jeff regarded his middle son who was staring out of the window “Penny for your thoughts” he said. “Hmm? Oh it’s nothing, just daydreaming really”. “Uh huh, and would that daydream have anything to do with a lovely young astronaut that’s waiting for you back home?” asked Jeff.

John could feel the heat creeping up to his cheeks “Maybe, just idly looking forward to having a few days downtime together. Our schedules rarely coincide, so it’ll be nice to spend a few days dirtside with her”. “You thinking of bringing her into the family business?” Jeff asked. John had not seen that one coming and, clearly agitated, tried to steer the conversation away. Truth be told, he had thought about it but that would imply a whole load of commitment he wasn’t sure either of them could give right now.

“Not really thought about it to be honest” was all he offered. “You sure could do with some additional help up there on Five and she is a fully trained astronaut ....and... well, I like her” You could have knocked John down with a feather. What the heck had happened to his father and who was this amiable alien who had taken over his body!

Vigil raised and eyebrow at Scott while all this conversation was going on, realising it was touching on a subject neither of them had even dared ask John about. Scott quirked an eyebrow back, a small smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. He’d love to stay and listen in but felt it was getting into personal territory that neither of them had a right to enter without invitation.

“Just stopping off here for a few minutes guys. Scott, wanna come with?” Virgil asked, the please remained unsaid but was clear from his expression. “Sure, we’ll be back in no time, no need to get up you two.” Scott replied as they both exited the cockpit.

“Ok, I know, it’s not my place to interfere” Jeff continued “but take it from someone who’s been there, when you find someone you just feel totally comfortable with, you don’t just let it slip away. I’ve seen you two together John, the way you interact, believe me, I’ve never seen you look so comfortable with anybody outside this family, with the exception perhaps of Penny.”

Clearly blindsided, John being John, wanted a bit more clarification “Dad, when you said family business, you didn’t just mean International Rescue, did you?” “Well son, that would be up to you” Jeff left the ball in John’s court.

“This thing we have, it’s quite new and we’re having to work round rotas, so we haven’t actually had a great deal of time together. Certainly not enough to make as big a decision as I think you’re suggesting”. “Son, sometimes you just gotta trust your gut and leave your head and logic to one side. That’s all I’m saying”.

Their conversation was interrupted by Scott and Virgil entering the cockpit with several boxes carrying the logo of a well known Swiss chocolatier and four steaming takeaway cups. “Thought we could all use some hot chocolate” Virgil passed out the cups to welcoming hands. “Just what we needed. Got anything in these boxes to go with the cocoa?” Jeff asked. “Sadly, these are for home. I promised Kayo we’d pick up some goodies for everyone to enjoy with our Christmas mimosas and I’d hate to be the one to tell her they didn’t make it home.” Replied Virgil. “Well it’s a good job I popped into the patisserie down the road while you were busy getting the drinks and got these” Scott beamed, clearly collecting extra brownie points as he carefully opened the smaller box, revealing the most wonderful choux pastry creations liberally topped with dark and white chocolate ganache, lightly dusted with edible glitter and gold leaf. “Wondered where you’d wandered off to” mumbled Virgil mid-chew, trying not to spray glitter everywhere. “You’re not the only one who knows the little out of the way places”

“Neither of you would know about either of those places if Eos and I hadn’t scoped them out first” John huffed. He was pleased the conversation had moved on from the rather uncomfortable personal probing of earlier and was quite happy to keep it that way.

“Call it teamwork” Virgil added as he slipped into the pilot’s chair. “Well, from what I see, teamwork is certainly something you boys excel at and I couldn’t be prouder” Jeff added as he raised his hot chocolate in salute to his eldest three.

Waiting to meet them in the hangar were the two youngest, Alan bouncing on the balls of his feet, Gordon trying unsuccessfully to hide his delight at the size of the tree that was appearing from Two. What they hadn’t expected to see was hidden behind the tree. “Oh my God!” Gordon exclaimed as he caught a glimpse of green and red. He and Alan ran over to check out what had caught his eye and of course, check out the tree.

Wow, it’s a beaut” enthused Gordon, gently stroking the machine. “I thought you were all talk when you were going on about fixing up one of the old hover bikes”. Virgil just shrugged, enjoying the youngster’s reaction to his handiwork. “You even painted on the flames!” Alan shrieked in delight.

“Well, hello to you too” said Jeff, slightly miffed but totally understanding of their enthusiasm for the new piece of kit rather than welcoming him back.

“Oh, hi dad” Alan finally waved, not taking his eyes off the machine. “You know, I was the one your brother allowed to test drive that thing” Jeff added. That got their attention. “Aw Virgil, I thought I was your favourite brother” whined Gordon “You know it’s always been me” replied Alan as they both turned towards there father, their interest piqued. Virgil just rolled his eyes. “So, how was she? Was she fast? Did you fall out? Did you test it to it’s limits?” so many questions tumbled from Alan who was now more interested in what his father had to say. “Walk me to the elevator and I’ll tell you all about it” said Jeff putting an arm around Alan’s shoulder. “C’mon Gordon” Alan gestured for his brother to join him. Gordon ran over, slipping quietly under Jeff’s other arm. Jeff positively beamed as he finally had their full attention and a new tale to enthral them.

The three older brothers looked at each other and smiled. It’d been a long time since they’d seen their dad so relaxed and happy.

Definitely the best day he’d had since returning from the Oort cloud and perhaps a new Christmas precedent had been set with the hoversleigh for future tree collecting.

End

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #jeff tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #kayo kyrano #Lady Penelope #Ridley O'Bannon

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Text

Trust (The Giovanna Family)

Happy Birthday Giorno! For such a special occasion, I have written a fic about Don Giovanna and his sons (thank you @dongiovannaswife for the idea of the twin boys i love them sm) Note: This fic contains a fem reader insert, but it’s less a reader insert and more just a fic about the Don and his kids. Also, this was a doozy to write because it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written, but GioGio is so worth it

Anyway, without further ado: Trust (The Giovanna Family): 6.3k words

“And to this man, we must extend our utmost gratitude, for the strides he has taken for the better of the people, for his famiglia in Passione, and for the state of Italy as a whole. I, speaking for all present, congratulate you on thirty long years of reign. To many more… Don Giovanna.”

The man raised his glass, arm extending outward from his body, his whole form tilted up to adjust to his lower level. The rest of the partygoers followed his example and raised their glasses past their chins in pride, their nerves stiffening their whole bodies as to not upset their leader. Resting atop a flight of stairs at the front of the ballroom, sat the Don Giorno Giovanna, raising his glass as well.

“Your words flatter me… I would be nothing without the loyalty, companionship, and dedication that each and every one of you provide on a daily basis to keep Passione going.”

Upon his words, the now older Don stood up above the other mafiosos and joined in on the toast. The music picked up once more, people turning amongst themselves and beginning private discussions. Giorno watched over his followers, the 45-year-old Don finally allowing himself to slump back into his chair and relax. He had spent most of the evening keeping himself poised and upright in order to show his dominance over these people. Over their very lives. Until the Don of Passione realized that these people needn’t more proof of his strength in order to follow him. They all know the legends of Gold Experience Requiem, of the power their leader has at his disposal. And because of that, Giorno allowed himself to sit back, already feeling a headache come on.

A strong hand gripped onto his shoulder, Giorno not needing to look up to know who it was.

“I’ve been doing this for thirty years, Mista. Thirty.”

Guido sighed. “Well, you haven’t been alone. You’ve had your advisors, me, Trish, Fugo… (y/n). The boys.”

A soft smile came to Don Giovanna’s lips as he thought of his beautiful love and their children. Though the smile quickly turned to a look of concern.

“Where are they by the way?”

Guido looked around at the partygoers. “The Donna is speaking with a capo from Portofino. It seems she’s safe. Dante is speaking with a female soldato. I think she’s part of Fragola’s team in Venice.”

At such a name, Giorno’s brow furrowed together in concern.

“Call him over Mista.”

Soon, Dante was by his father’s side at the top of the stairs at the head of the ballroom. Guido watched absently between the two of them, their appearances uncannily similar. There was no doubt of it. From the thick wavy hair that both men possessed, to the same captivating candy green eyes, and strong intimidating build. There were differences. Though Giorno wore his hair down in a long blond mane, his son preferred to keep his blond waves to a sharp bob, ending at his chin. When he first wore his hair that way, Mista joked to Fugo that the young man looked like a “blond Bruno Buccellati”, and Dante couldn’t help but catch the melancholy looks on the men’s faces. Still, it was clear as day that he was Giorno’s flesh and blood. A prince of Passione.

Giorno stood up, still somehow towering over his son. Dante, a young man of only 18 years, glanced up at his father’s movement.

“Yes, sir?”

Giorno allowed his son to have a small, public smile from his father, patting him on the back, his fingertips grazing his son’s star-shaped birthmark.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

Dante tried to stare into his father’s eyes. Though their luster had been dulled somewhat from how the young mafioso remembered them when he was a baby, he still found it difficult to maintain contact with Don’s intense gaze. It was the gaze of a Brando. Even if he knew that behind closed doors, his father was an incredibly loving and understanding man, the man before him at that moment was not his father. It was Don Giovanna.

“Yes, very much. It’s the first dinner that you’ve allowed me to attend so…”

“Well, your brother and you are finally adults. I figured I couldn’t keep you hidden safely for too much longer. You need to see my world as well, not just hear of it.”

Giorno turned around, his back to the partygoers, leaning in to whisper into his son’s ear. He glanced at Guido as well, his gaze signaling for Guido to have his pistol at the ready.

“You know, Dante, that I didn’t allow you to attend dinners until now to keep you safe.”

Dante smiled nervously at his father’s whispers. “Of course Dad.”

“Who were you speaking to just now?”

“Her name’s Amara Rossi, part of Matteo Fragola’s team.”

“...Did you use Son Lux on her?”

Dante nodded. “She’s safe to speak to. I checked Fragola as well. They don’t plan to attack. Your warning last night must have worked.”

Giorno let out a hearty laugh and a proud smile, patting Dante hard on the back and somewhat knocking the wind out of the young man.

“Thank you… dad.” He smiled a bit, nervous but happy to make his father happy.

“You’ve put me at ease Dante. I knew I could count on you.”

Giorno waved to Mista to put his pistol away and began walking out of the ballroom to go home to relax.

“Come, tell your mother that we’re leaving soon. And let Jovi know as well… wait…”

Dante felt his breath hitch in his throat for his father’s incoming question.

“Where is Jovi? I haven’t seen him all night…”

- - -

“Jovi? Jovi I can hear you, but I can’t see you…”

The young mafioso, his brother, mother, and father still remaining at the party, had walked the streets of Naples, climbed through fences and tiptoed through gardens, altering his body to flow like water in the tight crevices in his way. Nothing was going to stop him from his late-night rendezvous even if he was leaving the others to search for him. Thankfully, the ballroom hall was not far from his destination, the Una residence.

Finally, the young man, Jovi Giovanna found himself in the familiar rose garden of his father’s trusted friend and advisor, his aunt Trish. But she was not who he had come to see that midnight in that fair-weathered spring.

“Jovi, up here, at the balcony.”

Jovi looked up past his blond waves to find his visitee, his heart skipping a beat in his chest. He let out a broad grin and motioned a wave for her to go down to his level.

“Come down!...”

“No, I can’t… I’m meant to stay up here.”

The young woman Jovi escaped from the party to see was a longtime childhood friend, Sienna Una. Years ago, when his father and mother were starting their family, and when his uncles Guido and Panacotta already had children on the way, a younger Trish Una decided to start a family of her own with her partner. Rather than use a donor, they sought to adopt, deciding on an orphaned baby girl that had been abandoned in Rome. Giorno had once told his sons that their aunt Trish saw herself in the baby, but instead of taking the route her father had taken, she vowed to be her daughter’s guardian alongside her spouse. So, Sienna Una was adopted in the famiglia, and treated like the princess of Passione that she was. Even if that meant she was heavily guarded against the outside world. Still, that didn’t prevent her dear friend Jovi from seeing her.

“I’ll come up then… Hold on.”

Morphing the pads of his fingers to those of the pulvilli appendages of a spider, Jovi Giovanna climbed up the vine-covered wall of the Una estate with ease, until he dropped down onto his dear friend’s balcony. Her parents, Trish and her wife were out at the don’s party, so she was home alone with a guard. The moment Jovi set foot on her terrace, the 17-year-old mafiosa engulfed him in a tight hug. Jovi stared down at her mass of chocolate brown waves and smiled gently, relishing in the feeling of her tanned arms around his chest. Sienna couldn’t help but wonder how he has always been able to climb so high. Jovi couldn’t help but wonder when he could tell about Eleanor Rigby, his stand. When she finally pulled away, he gave her a glance up and down.

“Don’t you look nice?”

Sienna snorted, turning to her nightwear of a lacy, baby pink camisole, matching satin shorts, and a black robe. Her hair framed her face as it cascaded down her back, and she had no makeup on, yet Jovi felt he should be ashamed of the thoughts he had when looking at her.

“Well, Jovi, I don’t look nearly as good as you. I mean, look at you. I rarely see you in such clothes…”

She raised a hand to adjust the collar of her friend’s navy blue dress shirt, her fingertips lightly grazing his exposed chest as she straightened out his gold chain as well. Jovi watched her intently as she fiddled with the necklace, eyeing the ladybug emblem that hung at the end of the chain, the Giovanna family crest. Jovi held a breath in, trying to puff his chest out. He had always been wary of the way he looked. Though he was nearly the split image of his brother, he didn’t wear his hair in the bob, instead, he left it hanging around his ears , a few waves framing his eyes. He would stare in Dante’s face and look for the differences between the two twins. His eyes were more tired than his brother’s, his form more wiry he felt, no matter how many times his mother said it wasn’t so. Others would look between the two twins and only see the soft features and golden hair, speaking as if the boys were as angelic as their father. Jovi has found himself staring in the mirror before, sadly thinking that he merely looked human. More human than he needed to be for this world, but it seemed like the young woman before him didn’t care about any of that. He watched her beautiful honey browned eyes focus as she turned the small golden insect over to reveal the message on the other side. It read, “JG, born Mar. 15th, 2012.”

The two young friends were so close now, both Jovi and Sienna were thankful that the dark setting effectively masked the reddening of their faces. Jovi cleared his throat nervously as Sienna took a step back to give him personal space. Jovi watched her move away, almost wishing she hadn’t.

“I missed seeing you at the don’s party.”

Sienna smiled and rolled her eyes. “You know I can’t go to events yet. I’m still 17.”

“Not for long. Your birthday’s in a few weeks.”

“True, but still, I would hate to intrude on Don’s events.” She huffed jokingly.

“Well, the don’s son would love it if you’d attend.”

“Really? What has Dante said about me?”

Sienna teased her guest. Jovi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“He’s covering for me while I visit you.” Sienna felt her heart flutter at such words but tried not to show it.

“Why are you visiting me?” She asked softly, hopeful.

“Well I promised you I would, didn’t I? Plus, I felt awfully cooped up at that party, wearing a suit and all…”

Sienna bit her lip; she had hoped for a different answer. Instead, she moved over to stand next to Jovi at the railing, leaning her head on his shoulder as they looked out into the large garden. She let out an intrigued squint of the eye and Jovi turned to her.

“What was it like at the party? Being near all those mafiosos at once… Is it like how my mother describes it?”

Jovi grinned proudly as he listened to her excited tone, happy he could relay information to his friend about their parents’ work. The young man let out a teasingly standoffish sigh.

“Well Signorina, Tesoro, Cara, Bambina - if you must know it-”

“Signora Una, is everything alright? I heard noise…”

Sienna turned around to see her guard peer into her bedroom, but thankfully Jovi was out of sight. After he left once the young woman said everything was fine, Sienna closed the doors to her terrace and motioned for Jovi to be quieter.

“Will you stop teasing me with your pet names and just tell me?” She giggled, Jovi cooly shrugging it off.

“It was incredible Sienna. You grow up in these magnificent houses, wear all these fancy clothes, but to finally experience a taste of how your family came to such affluence was insane to me. My father warned Dante and me that we must remain on guard at all times, even if he was confident that those present at the dinner didn’t have any ill will towards him or us. But to see him sitting at the front of the room in his throne, atop all of the attendees, having them toast to him, it was all so surreal. To me, he’s always been just my father. And anytime growing up that he couldn’t come to a birthday or a party or anything really, I would give up hope that he would ever be present…”

Sienna watched Jovi’s face develop a melancholy expression as he sat down on the balcony floor, leaning against on the railing. She sat down with him, staring into his green eyes with her brown.

“...Jovi?” She placed a hand on his shoulder, waking him from his daze.

“But even so, the important thing was that he was much more present in our lives when Dante and I were children still. I suppose my mother guilt-tripped him.” Jovi chuckled a little, reassuring Sienna that he was alright.

“And anyway, going to the party tonight made me realize the real power that he has. And it made me realize the real power I have. Since it was our first party, my father had everyone toast to Dante and me as the Princes of Passione, and I felt this giant weight placed on my shoulders. I don’t know how to lead anyone and now that everyone knows who I am, I’m meant to defend myself as well. He would always talk about keeping my brother and me safe while we were growing up but after tonight I could tell that he really meant it. If they wanted to get to my father, anyone in that room could kill either Dante or me with ease so…”

Sienna shrugged a bit at the frightening statement, rubbing her friend’s shaking arm with a gentle hand.

“Well… I for one, am glad they haven’t yet.”

Jovi let out a loud chuckle at the dark yet snarky comment before Sienna rushed to quiet him down.

“Shh… he’ll hear you.”

“Sorry… sorry… “

A quiet air hung over the two of them, neither wanting to ruin the intimate conversation. Sienna rested her head on Jovi’s shoulder, happy to just have a friend’s warmth. Somehow, knowing that Jovi wasn’t supposed to be there, that her mother could come home any second now, and that she would get in trouble, that only made Jovi Giovanna’s shoulder more comfortable to lean on.

Neither of them needed to say anything, both just content with merely sitting there in the warm spring night. Occasionally, Sienna would tear her head away from her dear friend’s shoulder, scanning him over with her gaze. He almost didn’t seem… human. The young woman had no idea how those around her were capable of such inhuman things. How Jovi could make his way to her balcony through all the fences her mother had put up, or climb the walls so easily. How Dante always knew what she was about to say. Or how her mother always knew how to soften her fall when she was a baby. SIenna had grown up with these people and yet still, she felt that there was still something they all had that she simply… didn’t. Jovi had it, this strange thing, more powerfully that even he knew, she was sure of it. Perhaps that meant she wasn’t worth him. After several minutes of silence, Jovi carefully stood up from his spot on the floor. Sienna watched him stand, noticing a strange shape on her friend’s neck. She stood up as well and touched the mark, startling Jovi at the sudden contact.

“What is it?”

“That mark on your neck... “

Jovi reached a hand up and felt the spot she spoke of. “Oh yeah… I was born with it. Dante has one as well. Everyone in my family has one.”

Sienna stood up as well, inching slightly closer to Jovi, a small dusting of red on her cheeks once more. Jovi noticed the closeness of the two of them, gulping slightly.

“Sienna…?”

“You all must be very special to have such a thing.” She smiled shyly.

“Y-yeah… I suppose… Sienna I-”

Jovi went to speak, so ready to throw caution to the wind, and tell her that she was infinitely more special to their world than him, without her even needing to try. Instead the young man was interrupted by a voice he had grown up with.

“Sienna? We’re back from the party.”

The loving voice of Trish Una rang from the front door to the house. Sienna scrambled to readjust her robe and pushed Jovi to a corner of the balcony where he’d be out of sight.

“You need to go… It was amazing to see you Jovi. Some other time?”

Jovi’s shoulders dropped at the realization that he wouldn’t get his chance. “Yeah… some other time…”

He gave her a small smile, which she returned with a small hug before racing back into her room and closing the terrace doors behind her. Jovi climbed down from the balcony and stood in the private garden below, looking up into Sienna’s room. The young man’s heart lifted in hope, watching the young mafiosa speak with her mother briefly before briskly pacing around her room with a broad smile on her face, her form occasionally consumed by a giggle and a rush of emotion. Content with how the night transpired, Jovi began to saunter home with a lovesick smile on his face when he felt two hands grip tightly onto his shoulders. He turned around to see his mirror image, Dante, stare back at him, eyes blown wide in annoyance.

“Jovi are you nuts?! You said you’d be back at the party two hours ago! Our parents are waiting in the car to go home. Let’s go!”

“Oh calm down Dante, I’ll be there in a second… Is dad mad?”

“Furious!” Jovi glanced around and then covered Dante’s mouth with a hand.

“Shut up will you? Aunt Trish is home, she’ll hear you.”

Dante grumbled at his brother’s lack of awareness of the situation. “Come on Jovi…”

“Yeah one second.”

Jovi muttered before inching towards the balcony once more, careful not to be seen. Dante impatiently waited for him at the edge of the estate, panicking that their parents were still waiting for them.

“Jovi hurry up!”

“One second!”

Jovi rolled his eyes, peeking into Sienna’s window once more, watching her finally retire to bed before laying in her dark room, tossing and turning, clearly still awake, a giant smile on her face. Jovi smiled as well at the sight, turning around to eye Dante up and down.

“Dante… can you…?”

Dante looked over at what his brother could be referring to before shaking his head.

“No, I’m not doing it.”

“Please! Just tell me! You probably already know!”

“No Jovi I’m not gonna do it. Just figure it out for yourself!”

“But this is so much easier!”

“But then you’ll never learn!”

Jovi grumbled, turning back around to glance quickly at the garden and Sienna’s balcony.

“Do you think she likes me, Dante?”

Dante smiled a bit, lightly flicking his brother’s cheek for his childish, lovesick behavior.

“I don’t need a stand to tell you that.”

Jovi’s face lit up, his whole body feeling weightless in ecstasy as he rushed to leave the garden, promising Sienna silently that he’d confess next time. The young man’s glee was short lived however when he entered the car, met with an impatient and annoyed look from his father. Jovi awkwardly shifted into his seat, ready for the Don’s questioning.

“Ricotta, keep driving.” The driver left the Una estate with a sigh at his boss’ order.

Jovi gulped a bit, sitting up and stiffening himself. “Look, in my defense.”

“Do you know how many people I spoke to tonight wanted to speak with you themselves after the announcement? Only for you to have disappeared off the face of the Earth?”

Jovi faced his lap, unable to meet the Don's gaze. “Look at me in the eye Jovi.”

Jovi rolled his eyes and looked back up, shrugging. “Well I just-”

“And then I hear these little whispers from people, ‘oh the Don can’t even control his own kid, is he getting soft?”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Dad no one said that and you know it.”

“They thought it! I’m sure of it and I bet you know that from reading their minds!”

Dante pouted, his father not entirely wrong. Jovi sighed. “It’s not like I skipped the thing all together. I just wanted to see Sienna since she couldn’t go. She was sad that Dante and I can go to events and she can’t yet.”

He shrugged, looking out the window, Giorno’s gaze boring a hole into him. Giorno shut his eyes tightly before shaking his head at his son’s reasoning.

“Oh course she can’t go to events. And she shouldn’t be able to.”

“Well she can go in a few weeks when she turns 18.”

“I don’t think Trish wants her to.” Jovi’s head snapped forward at such a comment.

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t have a stand Jovi, we can’t introduce her to Passione higher ups without a way to defend herself.”

“Well maybe so, but don’t we owe it to her to let her go to things? She can’t be caged away from the truth after 17 years! She has to find out about stands at some point. Plus, I thought you and aunt Trish were talking about giving her one anyway?”

The Don’s eyebrows raised at such a comment. “Who told you we were planning that?”

Dante coughed a bit, and Jovi glanced over at him. Giorno got the hint and nodded with a heavy sigh. “Yes we’ve been considering it. And there’s a way we could do it. It’s a bit high risk though. Ultimately, I believe your aunt will say no.”

“Are you serious?! Why not do it?!” Jovi scoffed.

“Don’t raise your voice at me Jovi.”

“No! After seeing everything tonight, I realized that there’s so much that you’re not telling Dante and I. And you can go on and on about wanting to keep up safe but we’re not kids anymore! And you both owe it to Sienna to let her see our world just as much as Dante and I do!”

“She’s just a kid. You’re still a kid Jovi. The only reason you think you’re not a child is because your mother and I have given you and your brother an easy life in the famiglia.”

“Oh yeah, a super easy life huh? To never have your dad be around to watch you grow? To give up hope that he’d ever show up?! An easy life, that’s ridiculous!”

Giorno snarled, a Brando’s attitude. “You think you’re so tough, raising your voice at me like that. There’s people older than you at the bottom of this organization that are getting killed every day over something petty because of decisions that I make. If you were there instead of here at the top you’d think differently. Your brother understands.”

Jovi gritted his teeth, there was no winning in an argument with Don Giovanna, but he was daring to try.

“That’s not the point of what I’m saying. I understand the situation perfectly, but you and I both know that she doesn’t. And she should, you don’t talk to her like I do! She’s not just a kid and neither am I! You should give her a stand, no matter how ‘high risk’!”

Giorno remained silent, staring into his son’s angered face. He saw so much of himself in his sons, each of the boys holding a different part of him within them. Dante had inherited his strategic mind, and always knew when to look at a situation pragmatically. But still, his resolve didn’t hold a candle to Jovi’s, whose spirit was lit up with all the determination and passion that he had. The don watched his son slowly calm down from his shouting and peered out the window. They were close to home. Jovi’s shoulders hung low as he cursed himself for even thinking he could stand up to his old man. Giorno, still calm, used to a little anger from those beneath him, finally decided to let his son know.

“She could die if she can’t handle a stand.”

Jovi’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized the true weight of this conversation and stopped talking till the end of the car ride home.

When the Giovanna family returned to their estate in the hilltops of Naples, none of them really wanted to speak to each other. Jovi just went straight to his room, followed by Dante, and the Don went to relax in his study. You, his wife and the boys’ mother were on his heels, tiredly tying your hair up and removing your heels after such a long night. Two parallel conversations ensued, each member of the argument in a tired yet argumentative mood. Giorno slumped into his chair, removing his maroon suit jacket in order to relax. You came up behind the armchair, delicate fingers carefully undoing the knots in the Don’s long blond hair. Giorno closed his eyes, leaning into your touch with a hum. He tried to relax, tried to only focus on your soft singing, your fingertips through his scalp and the softness of the material of your evening gown, but he just couldn’t. His shoulders tense up once more and he sat up straight.

“Why can’t I ever get a hold on him (y/n)... he’s my son I should be able to show him our world, but he doesn’t want to see it…”

Jovi wasn’t having any better of a time calming down. The young man paced back and forth the length of his bedroom, muttering to himself about his father’s injustices. Dante sat at the edge of his brother’s bed, watching him for the next time he would burst in frustration. He knew when it was going to happen. Not from reading the other’s mind, but from the twitch of Jovi’s eyes, the fidget of his wrist upward as his hand came up to his face, the vein in his throat that flared just like the one with his father.

“Doesn’t he understand I’m not any sort of little kid anymore?! The only reason he hasn’t seen what I can do is because he hasn’t given me a chance to do anything! It’s not like I can read minds or anything!”

You sighed, stepping in front of your husband and standing above him in his chair, holding his head in your hands.

“This isn’t the part of our world that he wants to see… He wants to know you believe in him. And he’s not sure if you do because you’re always protecting him. He can’t read your mind. And lord knows Dante won’t tell him anything.”

Giorno chuckled a bit and stood up from his seat, releasing Gold Experience from himself as well. You watched as the golden figure morphed into a hawk with the flick of Giorno’s wrist. The stand flew from the Don’s bedroom, scanning across the villa, the Don having let all the guards go home for the night to relax. When presenting to the world, he was rarely the warm and understanding man that those closest to him knew him as. But why couldn’t he show more of that warmth or understanding to his own son? You could tell he was struggling. When Gold Experience fazed back into Giorno’s body, you pulled him in for a quick yet intimate kiss, happily leaning in on his shoulder. Giorno rested his chin on top of your head, closing his eyes as he pictured Jovi and Dante at their 6th birthday party, the first one he attended after years of being unable to. They both had the same haircut that he had once. Giorno’s brow furrowed. The two of them are so different from one another...

Dante Giovanna had inherited his father’s ability to read facial expressions, and from that ability, his stand of reading minds, Son Lux, was born. The young man knew the emotional power of his stand, and promised himself that he would only let others know of the truth when he felt it was necessary. And looking at his brother’s struggle to come to grips with himself and with how their father perceived him, Dante found it necessary to tell his brother of the Don’s true thoughts when the family was driving home in the car.

You finally let go of Giorno, the two of you having stood in the middle of your bedroom, no words needed in order for the Don’s worries to dissipate. You gave him a smile before finally getting ready to go to bed.

Dante watched his brother’s face soften as he revealed his father’s inner words of praise at the young mafioso’s conviction and spirit. Though he has spent most of his life reading those around him, nothing could have prepared him for the look of tearful appreciation on his twin brother’s face.

Dante stood up from Jovi’s bed. It really was just the two of them. Always had been. Always will be. You turned around from your wardrobe, slipping on one of Giorno’s crewnecks before saying his name to get his attention.

“Give him a chance Giorno.” You smiled.

“He’s going to give you a chance soon. I’m sure of it.” Dante grinned reassuringly, leaving Jovi alone to think.

A week passed from the party. Jovi was sitting in the family garden, a certain Oleander stem having caught his interest as he sketched it into his pad of ethnobotany notes. His whole life, thoughts of the outside, natural world had always been at the very forefront of his focus. Such a focus was the basis of his stand, Eleanor Rigby. Only through studying the organic world was jovi able to expand the set of things that he could morph himself into. It was already easy to morph his body into sand to fit through small spaces and sneak into the Una estate. It was already easy to turn his limbs into those of an ape’s to more properly climb, but there were still things he had to master, if he could only get the chance. Without realizing it, the chance was arriving right behind him at that moment.

“Jovi! Come quick! Come quick!” The young man jumped at the sound of his father’s distressed voice.

“What is it?”

Giorno gulped down his need to chuckle at his son’s sudden worry. “Sienna’s in trouble! They’re holding her in Capri, let’s go!”

Without needing an explanation, Jovi rushed from his seat ready to take off from the estate. A ferry would take about two hours, but he figured he could use his ability to run across and be there to save here -wait…

“Why are you asking me?”

Giorno looked at him confused. “What do you mean? You wanted a chance didn’t you? Mista is already on the way, go!”

Jovi’s eyes widened, a small but proud grin coming to his face. Soon, he was off, running down the hill from the villa, heading to the coast. His legs filled with energy, simulating the running patterns of a big cat as he sprinted and swerved between the tightly packed crowds and buildings. People yelled for him to watch where he was going, told him to slow down, but he would not listen. Sienna was in danger. Young Jovi Giovanna came upon the edge of town overlooking the water. Leaping past a woman with her child, Jovi heard her screams not to jump as he scaled the fence and landed upon the sharp rocky shore. Not yet tired, the stand user quickly adapted his feet to those of a basilisk lizard, an animal that his father often showed him and created when he was little, and the only being that can run on water. He was going to make it to Capri, that he swore. Finally, he reached the shore, his stand morphing his eyes into those of a hawk, the powerful tunnel vision allowing him to scan the island for either the people who might have captured Sienna, or Sienna herself. And Sienna herself he found… sitting, in a flowing pink lace dress, her hair neatly braided, her form peaceful and clean as ever.

Jovi stood up from his hidden spot at the shore, looking around. Where was Mista? She wasn’t even in danger? What was his father saying? Jovi kept his guard up. If there’s one thing his old man taught him it was that everything is not always as it seems. She could be an illusion of sorts. From an enemy stand.

Sienna glanced up from her table at the restaurant having spotted Jovi nearby. A bright smile came to her face. Quickly getting out of her seat, she ran over to him and enveloped her dear friend in a tight hug. Jovi released his enhanced vision and calmed down immediately. He hadn’t a doubt in his mind. This was the real Sienna Una in his arms. He could feel her humanity, her life rushing through her. Still, he was confused.

“Sienna? What are you doing here?”

Sienna looked up at him, disbelief on her face. “What do you mean? You told me to come here…. Why else would you be here as well?’

“I thought you were in danger.”

“In danger? Of course not! Uncle Mista escorted me to Capri and then told me to wait for you. And then he left me here. Seems like they’re all starting to trust me to be alone in the real world. Why would you think I was in danger?”

Jovi looked around, finding no one he recognized on the boardwalk. No one was even looking at them.

‘I don’t know… What makes you think I invited you here?” He asked, still stunned.

Sienna rolled her eyes and playfully smacked Jovi on the chest.

“Don’t play coy with me. It was something only you could have done. I was sitting at my balcony reading and then suddenly, this little shorthair kitten that I had never seen before came climbing up the vines before dropping down on my terrace, and it immediately reminded me of you. Before I could ask how the stray could have even gotten into the garden, just as I looked away to call my mother, it had turned into this small note. It was magic I swear! And I was sure no one would believe me but it’s true!”

Sienna reached into the pocket of her spring dress and handed Jovi the note. The parchment had the Giovanna of a ladybug on it, but the words themselves were written in a darkened gold ink. It was even in Jovi’s handwriting, uncannily.

The note read,

“Sienna Una, meet me at approximately noon today at the Ristorante Terrazza Brunella. Make sure to wear something you’d want people to see you in. You’ve always wanted to see our world, and I’m going to be the one to show it to you. Sincerely and Forever Yours, Jovi Giovanna.”

Jovi read the note with a small smile before turning around and staring out at the vast waters between Capri and Naples. His father had just trusted that he would be able to cross it by himself, and he did. His father had just trusted that he would spring into action without fear, and he did. The young man smirked. He didn’t need to scare the shit out of him though. He knew something was up.

“Oh that’s right, I remember now. I didn’t think you’d really come though. A girl of your status should be more careful about mysterious notes.”

Sienna teasingly punched Jovi’s arm before rushing back to the restaurant for them to enjoy their lunch. Giorno remained back at the villa, pleased when Mista reported back to him of the kids’ safety. Sienna watched Jovi as the two of them sat and ate their meal.

“Can’t you tell me how you did the cat trick? I can’t read minds you know.”

Jovi watched her hopeful face, the young stand user so helplessly in love with this woman. “Not yet. Maybe later.”

Sienna snorted. “It’s okay. I don’t need an explanation really. I have no idea how, but you Giovannas are always able to do incredible things like that.”

#jjba #jjba writing #giorno giovanna #giorno #part 5 #vento aureo #ocs #the giovanna family #jjba hcs #Jovi Giovanna #Dante Giovanna #fem reader #Sienna Una #jojo #jojo writing #happy bday Don!#dongiovannaswife #long fic

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punkrockmads · 4 years

Text

The Moment I Said It

Unspoken Words part 1

Sarah's bedroom is illuminated by the warm yellow glow of the early morning sun. It isn't often she gets to sleep in. She normally has to be up before dawn for whatever assignments she's been given that day but today, she and Jesse get to start their patrol a little later than usual.

A soft knock on Sarah's bedroom door wakes her up. Joel. She lets out a tired sigh, stretching and standing up to open the door. She reaches for the cold metal handle, swinging the door open. Joel chuckles at her appearance. Her hair is messy and tangled and she's still in her pajamas. Sarah shivers, the shorts and tank top not providing much warmth. She wishes she could crawl back under her warm blankets.

"You better have a good reason for waking me up the morning I finally get to sleep in." Sarah yawns, rubbing her eyes with her palms.

"Are pancakes a good reason?" Joel asks, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. Sarah puts a finger on her bottom lip, pretending to think. The answer is obvious.

"I guess." She says with a tired smile. "Is Ellie still here?"

Joel shakes his head. "No, she wanted to get an early start on her patrol with Dina. Jesse's here, though."

"Oh, cool." Sarah says, a little deflated that Ellie's already gone but happy one of her friends is here. Ellie's been more of a sister to Sarah than a best friend since the girls met. You'd think they were actually siblings if you didn't know their beginnings. Sarah's mother passed away while giving birth to her. Her father passed away before she was born, leaving her in Joel's care with nothing but a tiny stuffed lamb she named Gus and memories that will never be made. Sarah sometimes wishes she could've known her parents; wonders what they were like. But she tries not to think about it too much. It's pretty normal for kids to lose their parents nowadays. She can't complain, though. Joel's stepped up and treated her like his own daughter. She'd even tried calling him dad once but he told her not to call him that.

Sarah leans out of the doorway, hanging onto the frame with both hands. "Hey Jesse!" She calls.

"Morning!" Jesse yells from somewhere downstairs. Sarah smiles. Jesse always has this cheerful tone that can brighten anyone's day.

"Alright, scoot. Get dressed. Your boyfriend and I are waiting on you." Joel nudges Sarah's shoulder teasingly.

"He is not my boyfriend." Sarah groans, closing the door in Joel's face.

"Yeah, that's almost exactly what Ellie said about Dina at first, too." Joel says through the door. He can practically feel Sarah's eye roll as he walks back downstairs.

Sarah gets dressed quickly, not wanting to keep the guys waiting longer. She laces up her black steel toed boots and throws one of Joel's old flannels over her tank top before grabbing Gus. She hugs the little sheep for a moment before going downstairs, passing the kitchen and going to the door to put the stuffed animal in her backpack.

"You know, if you didn't carry that sheep around, you'd have more room in your backpack for supplies." Jesse teases, standing beside where Sarah kneels, zipping up her bag.

"You leave Gus alone." Sarah stands up, shoving Jesse back with a playful smile. "He is my child and he goes where I go."

"Yes ma'am." Jesse chuckles, putting his hands up in surrender. Sarah moves to punch his shoulder but Jesse dodges and grabs her fist. "Alright, let's eat. We've got an hour before Maria wants us to head out."

"What route are we doing?" Sarah asks as Jesse pulls her into the dining room. Joel joins the teenagers, walking out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee and sitting in a chair at the end of the table. Sarah sits in the seat diagonal from him. People don't get to eat meals other than dinner at home often, usually grabbing food from the diner before heading off to do their daily activities so it's nice when they get to spend the morning talking amongst themselves and connecting with their families.

"Creek trails." Jesse answers, sitting across from Sarah. "Should be pretty simple, there hasn't been many infected spotted on that route for a while."

"That route is really pretty." Sarah says, taking a bite of her pancakes. "Especially now since it's Spring."

"You know, you could probably pick some wildflowers for your room." Jesse says, shoveling bites of pancake into his mouth. "Replace those dead ones you've had for ages."

"Yeah, that's a good idea." Sarah agrees.

Joel smiles, hearing the two talk about simple things. It almost feels like the world hasn't gone to shit. It almost feels like how things were before the infected; peaceful. He clears his throat, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "Sarah, I've got somethin' to tell you after patrol if you're not busy."

"Is something wrong?" Sarah asks, looking at him with worried eyes.

"No. Nothin's wrong." Joel assures, putting a hand up to signal her to stay calm. "Just somethin' I gotta tell you."

Sarah nods, hesitant. "Okay." She says, turning her attention back to her plate of half eaten pancakes. She wonders what Joel has to tell her that he can't say right now. Is he dying?!

"It's Dina's turn to pick a movie tomorrow." Jesse says, successfully distracting Sarah from Joel's previous comment. The four friends always have a movie night with popcorn and expired candy every other Friday. It's a way to destress and relax after a long two weeks as well as bond with one another. Dina always picks shitty sci fi movies just to watch the other three cringe and laugh at them.

"Oh no." Sarah chuckles. "Please tell me you hid the sci fi movies."

"Yep." Jesse laughs, the three of them finishing their breakfast. "She'll never find them." Sarah stands up, carrying her plate into the kitchen. Jesse follows, taking her plate out of her hands. She reaches for it but Jesse is a good three inches taller so he holds it up, just out of her reach. He uses his leg to kick her away and sets both of the plates in the sink, turning on the water.

"Hey!" Sarah tries to shove past him but Jesse blocks her. "Guests aren't supposed to do house chores!" Jesse laughs at her failed attempts to get around him to the sink. He knows she's more than capable of shoving him out of the way but, since they're simply playing around, she's not using her full strength. Sarah may be small, but she's super strong for her slightly toned build. She prides herself more on her agility, stealth and quick thinking.

Jesse places the dishes and silverware on the drying wrack. "Too late." He grins, folding his arms over his chest.

"You suck." Sarah whines, tugging a lock of Jesse's black hair.

"Well, you swallow! Ow! Hey!" Jesse yanks Sarah's hand away as she laughs at him.

"Jesse, don't say that in my house." Joel complains, walking into the kitchen.

"Sorry, Joel." Jesse says as the teenagers move out of the way. They walk to the front door, grabbing their gear and going into the living room.

"Do you have everything besides Gus?" Jesse asks, double checking the magazine of his gun. Sarah does the same, making sure her 9mm is loaded. She tucks the gun into the back of her jeans, adjusting her shirt so it rests behind the gun, making it easier to grab in a rush.

"Yes, I do." Sarah replies, putting on her backpack and grabbing her bow. "And Gus is just as important as everything else in here so you hush." After making sure they have their gear, the two go to leave for patrol.

"Stay safe, kiddo." Joel says, hugging Sarah.

"Always." Sarah says with a smile, turning and walking out the front door. When she's out of earshot, Jesse gives Joel a small smile.

"She's gonna understand." He says. "It'll take time... but she'll understand."

"I hope you're right." Joel sighs. The old man rubs at his beard, looking to the floor with nervous eyes.

"It'll be okay." Jesse says, turning to leave. "See ya." He waves, running to catch up with Sarah who's waiting at the end of the walkway. Joel waves back, closing the door as the two walk away.

"So, have you managed to convince Ellie to move into the house yet?" Jesse asks, walking beside Sarah to the stables.

"Nope." Sarah sighs. "Pretty sure she likes the garage because it's easier to sneak girls over in the middle of the night." Sarah chuckles, remembering the time she accidentally walked in on Ellie and her ex girlfriend making out. Sarah wasn't really a huge fan of Cat. She was just too... normal. Boring. She can't help but admit she's much happier that Ellie is with Dina now. Even Jesse knows they're a better couple.

"I should've thought of that when my parents and I got here. Too bad we don't have a garage." Jesse chuckles. The sun shines down on the two friends, making Sarah's hair look like golden, silky curtains, moving gently in the cool breeze. The yellow glow is warm, making the chilly air more tolerable.

"What were you and Joel talking about?" Sarah asks as they walk into the stables, her curiosity getting the better of her. She doesn't like being nosey.

"Joel was just reminding me to get you back safely." Jesse shrugs, taking his horse from one of the stable workers. Sarah takes her horse, following Jesse out to the gate.

"C'mon, Ponyo." Sarah commands the caramel colored horse. Ponyo has been hers since she came to Jackson with Joel and Ellie. Sarah taught her to understand different commands using words and special clicking sounds. "He didn't threaten you again, did he?" She remembers the first few times she went on patrol with Jesse. Joel made sure he understood the consequences that would come if she got hurt.

"Nah, just a friendly talk." Jesse says before mounting his horse, Cobalt. Sarah mounts Ponyo, tying her bow to the side of the saddle with the rope. The gates open and the two set off.

The light Spring breeze rustles through the treetops, green leaves creating a harmonious, music-like sound. Horse hooves trample through the creek waters, causing tiny clear droplets to fly into the air and shimmer like stars. Wildflowers rest along the edges, basking in the sun's glow. The water rushes, blending with the sounds of the birds and insects.

"I think you should get a cat." Sarah says, changing the subject. Jesse rides not too far ahead of her, both of them scanning the treeline for infected they most likely won't find. It's better to be safe, though.

"What?" Jesse laughs, surprised to hear something so random. "Why a cat?"

"I dunno." Sarah shrugs, grinning when Jesse turns back to look at her with a puzzled face. "I just see you with a cat. Like a teacup kitten! Did you know that's a thing?!"

"What the hell's a teacup kitten?" Jesse asks.

"It's a kitten that can fit in a teacup!" Sarah says, enthusiastically. "Duh!"

"No way." Jesse snorts in disbelief.

"Uh, yes way! I saw them in a book!" Sarah cuts in. "Man... I wish I had a teacup kitten. Hey, do you think I could find a kitten one day?"

"Didn't you say you saw giraffes once?" Jesse recalls.

"Yeah, with Joel and Ellie." Sarah confirms, rolling up the sleeves of her flannel.

"Well, if you can find a giraffe, I'm sure you can find a cat." Jesse says. "Probably be harder to find one, though. They're not as big."

"One day, I'll own a dozen cats." Sarah decides. "I'll train them to attack infected."

"That'll be interesting to see." Jesse says as they arrive at the first outpost. The two of them tie up their horses in an open section of the building and head to the pallet covering a hole in the wall. Sarah stays quiet, pondering what Joel had said earlier that morning. "You good?" Jesse asks, moving the pallet out of the way and crawling through the hole.

"Yeah." Sarah says, quietly. She follows him through the hole, still stuck in her own thoughts.

"You're lying." Jesse points out, climbing up the rope into the office.

"I am not!" Sarah argues, pulling herself up to the floor.

"Yes, you are. I know you." Jesse says. He's right. He knows pretty much everything about her. He knows her almost better than she knows herself. He can tell when something's off about her from a mile away. "What's goin' on in that head of yours?" Sarah avoids his caring gaze, signing the two in and reporting the lack of infected.

"I'm just..." Sarah stands up, pressing a hand to her stomach, just over the scar that remains there from a bullet wound. Everyone believes she was shot by hunters. Well, everyone but Ellie and the Miller brothers. They know that she was really shot by a Firefly when they were escaping St. Mary's. She kept going as though she hadn't been injured at all. Joel didn't notice until they were driving away and he glanced over to see the blood seeping through her shirt. "I'm worried about what Joel has to say."

"Why are you worried?" Jesse asks, taking a few steps closer. Sarah looks up at him, gripping her shirt in her fist.

"What if... What if Joel is sick or he decided he doesn't want me around anymore?" Sarah's eyes widen at the confession of her greatest fear. "I know, it's stupid. But I'm always scared that people will get sick of me and just leave me behind." She grits her teeth, immediately regretting her words. What a dumb fear.

"Hey." Jesse takes Sarah's hand away from her shirt, holding it in both of his. His hands make hers look even smaller. They're warmer than hers, too. "Being afraid isn't stupid. But you will never be abandoned, okay? Joel's not leaving, Ellie and Dina aren't leaving, and I will never leave. You're not gonna be left behind, I promise."

Sarah smiles, something that Jesse can't help but feel extremely happy about. His own smile grows wider when Sarah hugs him. "Thanks." She says as Jesse hugs back. He rests his chin on her head.

"You're welcome." He responds. "And, Sarah?"

"Hm?"

"Whatever Joel tells you... just remember he really loves you." Sarah purses her lips, not sure exactly how to respond. She settles for nodding, cheek rubbing against his chest.

"C'mon." Sarah pulls away, adjusting her backpack with a little bounce. "Let's get this over with so I can get those wildflowers."

Jesse chuckles, following her to the rope. "Lead on."

Sarah and Jesse return to Sarah's house later that day, the patrol being fairly easy. Joel isn't home, probably out on his patrol route. Sarah lets out a deep sigh, setting her stuff down by the stairs and kneeling to dig around in her backpack. She pulls out Gus, pressing him against her chest as Jesse sets his bag beside hers.

"Think Ellie and Dina are home?" Jesse asks, handing Sarah the wildflowers she'd picked on their way back to Jackson.

Sarah shrugs, taking the flowers from him. "Should be. Probably in the garage."

"I'm gonna go bug them for a few minutes." Jesse grins, heading towards the back door.

Sarah simply nods, standing up to move into the living room. "Okay. Wanna stay and watch a movie 'till Joel gets back?"

"Sure." Jesse agrees. "You gonna cuddle with me instead of that toy?" He teases, gesturing to Gus.

"You know, I would've considered it but you called Gus a toy." Sarah raises a brow, a victorious smile on her face.

"Damn!" Jesse exclaims, pretending to be upset.

"I'll think about it." Sarah chuckles at Jesse's grin as he goes to greet their friends. Sarah's smile fades a bit when he walks out the door. She holds Gus tighter, searching the TV stand cabinet for a good movie to watch. She settles on a movie she's seen a million times but still adores; Coraline. After getting everything set up, she sits on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting Gus on top of them, holding his little stuffed limbs in her hands. Before the movie can even start, the back door slams and Jesse runs into the living room.

"Do NOT go in the garage!" Jesse says with a mix of horror and disgust.

"Why? What's wrong?" Sarah asks, confused.

"Let's just say I may have walked in on something I shouldn't have." Jesse explains, sitting on the couch beside Sarah.

"Oh!" Sarah says, immediately picking up on the reason Jesse's face is a beat red. "Well, I guess they're not watching Coraline with us." She chuckles. Jesse groans, most definitely scarred for life. Ten minutes into the movie, Jesse gets sick of Gus getting all the attention. He reaches over and snatches him from Sarah, despite her protests, and pulls her into his side, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"You don't get a choice. You get cuddles." Jesse laughs. Sarah makes no attempt to pull away, burying herself further into his arms, instead.

"If you don't... give me Gus... right now... I will cut your hand off." Sarah threatens, voice low. Jesse hands her Gus, his other arm moving to wrap in front of her. She holds onto his arm with one hand, Gus in the other. Just as they've done for years.

"Hey, why do you think the Beldam chose buttons?" Jesse asks, watching the buttons change as the creepy Other Mother calls out colors.

"Cause she's crazy." Sarah mumbles, entranced in the movie. "She probably likes the pain she causes when she sews them to their faces."

"Kinky." Jesse jokes. Sarah elbows him in the ribs. "Ow! What is your deal with hurting me today?" Sarah just chuckles, forgetting all about Gus somewhere on the couch and wrapping her arms around Jesse's torso. She takes a deep breath and sighs, her flannel covering her like a blanket.

Joel comes back just before sunset, finding the two teenagers curled up on the couch, Gus laying by Sarah's feet. He can't help the fear he hides inside of him. He crosses his arms, clearing his throat. The two turn to look at him before being sucked back into the end of the movie. "Hello, you two." He greets with a smile.

"Hey, Joel." Sarah responds. "How was patrol?"

"Pretty good." Joel responds, sticking his hands the pockets of his jeans. "Sarah, I... I need to talk to you."

"Okay." Sarah says, standing and following Joel into the dining room. She watches as he sits in one of the chairs, gesturing for her to sit beside him. She does so, pulling up a chair and turning it to face him. She feels a bit anxious, looking at his worried eyes.

"What I'm about to say..." Joel starts, looking to the wooden floor. "I'm not sure you're gonna like it." This only makes Sarah more worried.

"Joel, are you sick? Did- are you infec-"

"I'm your dad." Joel cuts Sarah off, looking directly at her.

"Okay." Sarah snorts. "Funny joke." She chuckles before seeing the serious look on Joel's face. "You're not joking." Her eyes go wide, confusion mixed with so many other feelings. "Wait... how... what?"

"I didn't wanna tell you because I was afraid." Sarah blinks a few times, trying to piece everything together. Sarah just stares at him, a look of pure shock on her face. "Say something... please?"

"You told me my dad was dead." Her voice is almost too quiet to hear but Joel picks up every word. "You lied to me..." At that moment, Sarah's shock turns into anger and hurt. She stands up, almost shoving the chair backwards. "Do you know how many nights I stayed up wishing I had a mother or father and feeling stupid for even wishing it?! You let me believe the only thing I had left of my parents was a fucking stuffed animal!!" Tears slip down Sarah's cheeks. She gasps for air, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. She's confused. One hand goes to the scar on her stomach. "I even tried to call you dad and you shut me down!! You made me feel like you didn't want me!!" Sarah sobs, breathing heavier. It feels like no air is entering her lungs. It feels like she's drowning. "I felt horrible for wishing you were my real dad because I thought you'd never want me as your daughter!!" She doesn't notice, but Jesse stands just behind her, trying not to intervene and make the situation worse.

Joel stands up, reaching for Sarah. "Sarah, I-"

"Don't touch me." Sarah seethes, wiping her cheeks. A look of hurt flashes on Joel's shameful face. He never wanted to hurt her. All Sarah's yelling causes Ellie and Dina to rush in from the garage. Sarah backs away, bumping into Jesse before running upstairs to her room. Dina goes to follow her, Jesse close behind, but Ellie puts a hand up.

"I've got this." Ellie says, climbing the stairs to Sarah's room. She hears the sobbing and choked gasps, immediately knowing Sarah is having a panic attack. She wastes no time knocking, opening the door just enough to squeeze into the room and close it behind her. She finds Sarah curled up in a ball on her bed, desperately trying to get air into her lungs. She's only had a panic attack once before and it wasn't as bad as this.

Ellie rushes to her her side, sitting in front of Sarah and gently grabbing her shoulders. "Sarah, look at me." Ellie commands with a soft but worried voice. "Look at me."

"Ellie." Sarah sobs. Everything she believed about her past had just been completely changed. If Joel doesn't want her as his daughter, why did he tell her the truth? Does he feel bad for lying all those years? Does it keep him up at night? Ellie pulls her into a hug, holding her shaking body.

"You're okay." Ellie says, rocking side to side a little. "Take a breath. Breathe with me, okay?" Sarah nods, clinging to Ellie like a lifeline. "In...out...in... see, you got it." Ellie continues to take deep breaths with Sarah until her breathing evens out.

"Why did he tell me?" Sarah sniffles. Ellie grows confused. Why wouldn't she want to know?

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"Why would he tell me he's my dad if he doesn't want me to be his daughter?" Sarah pulls away, laying back on the bed.

Ellie immediately feels Sarah's pain. "Of course he wants you to be his daughter." She says. "He was just... he was scared."

"Ellie, the last time I called him dad, he yelled at me for twenty fucking minutes. He was so pissed I thought his head was going to explode. He. Doesn't. Want. Me! Why else would he lie to me?" Sarah cries, covering her face with her palms. "He let me believe I had no family." Ellie isn't sure how to respond. Sarah went her entire life believing she knew what happened to her parents only to find out it was a lie. She wants to be happy Joel really is her father but she can't get over the fact that he lied to her. It's silent for a moment before Sarah speaks again.

"So, you know... Who else does?" She asks.

"Uh... Tommy and Maria knew from the start. Jesse knew and now Dina knows." Ellie answers, fidgeting with her fingers.

"Jesse?" Sarah's surprised at first, remembering what Jesse said when ther were on patrol. "Of course." Joel had told him this morning.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ellie asks, wanting to be there for Sarah. Sarah rolls over, facing away from the door.

"I just need some time alone, please?" Sarah doesn't want to be mean to Ellie but she needs a moment to process everything.

"Okay." Ellie nods, rubbing Sarah's shoulder. "Do you want me to bring you some dinner?" Sarah simply shakes her head, closing her eyes. Ellie nods, patting Sarah's shoulder before leaving her be.

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #ellie williams #fanfiction #tlou dina #joel miller #joel tlou #personal #tlou jesse #sarah miller #tlou sarah

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introvertllux · 4 years

Text

Peace in Normalcy: Chapter One

(The chapter is told from Prue’s point of view. Anytime, that you see italicized words, that means Prue is speaking via her internal monologue).

Genre: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Comedy-Drama

Warnings: 18+, depictions of mental health, mental disorders, depression, suicide, and sexual abuse. (Please do not read, if you may be triggered).

*Any depictions of mental health are based on MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. Please do not think I’m making fun or or mocking anyone, again these experiences are based on what I have seen and, or been through myself. Also, I am not intending to romanticize mental health or disorders in anyway. Lastly, If you do decided to read this story I am very thankful and I hope you enjoy it. : )

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Prue's P.O.V

(Picture of Prue)

Friday, September 27, 2019

Isn’t funny how in an instant- and with a snap of your fingers your life can turn completely upside-down. I mean really think about it. One day you’re just doing your average daily routine, completely minding your own business. Then next thing you know, something happens- and incident. Imagine that said incident happens at your job of all places and you end up in a place like this. Who would’ve known, huh? Who would’ve known that one incident, no one mistake could make you end up in the nuthouse? Not, me.

"Prue! Time to go!" I heard a voice yell in the distance from behind me. I ignored the voice as I laid down on the grassy field of the psychiatric hospital’s courtyard.

(Psychiatric Hospital Courtyard)

I kind of like it out here. It brings me peace. I can breathe some fresh air and get away from it all. The meds, the therapist, and the patients. Being out here was as close to freedom as I was going to get for a while. But, to tell you the truth I’ve grown to like this place, the institution as a whole wasn’t so bad, when I really think about. The meds keep me stable, I guess. The therapist actually treats me like a normal human being, and I can relate to the other patients. This place was sort of like a sanctuary for me. For the first time in a long time I feel like I belong. For the first time in my life I actually feel like I fit in. I think I’ve made up my mind. Yeah… I’ve definitely did. I’m never leaving. Never.

The shouting of my name continued as heavy footsteps began to approach me. I sighed softly.

I must have visitors. Well, more like a visitor, most likely my sister, Mallory. She was the only one that has visited me during this whole ordeal.

The footsteps came to a halt as the figure hovered over me, blocking my view of the sun. I wasn't surprised to see a male orderly; they always came to pick up people either for medicine or a visitor.

"You have a visitor. Come on." He said.

I stood up and brushed the tiny pieces of grass off of my pants and followed the male orderly back inside. As I walked, I couldn't help wondering why my sister was visiting me. She normally would visit me every two months on a Saturday. But she visited three weeks ago and today is Friday.

After walking for a couple minutes, I noticed the route we were taking would lead us back to my room. Usually, visitors we not permitted to go to a patient's room unless-

I heard a loud squeal followed by "Prue! Surprise!". I walked around the orderly and stared into my wide-open door. To my slight surprise was my sister, Mallory quickly packing two large black suitcases.

(Picture of Mallory)

Yeah, just as I suspected. She was here to pick me up early. But why?

I stepped into the room as the orderly shut the door behind him. I stared at my sister as she continued to pack my things.

"Um?" I questioned quietly with a slightly raised brow.

"I know. I know what you're thinking. I'm back. Again. But this time I'm back for you. I was able to work something out with the courts. I’ve been going back and forth with them for months. They said they would monitor you and if you showcased good behavior and improvement within your counseling sessions, they would let you out early. Don’t you want to come home?” She said as she continued to pack my things.

I was ordered on a plea deal to stay here for a year, but it's only been nine months. And, I don’t know do I want to go home? Wasn’t I just fine with staying her the rest of my natural born life, just a few minutes ago?

Mallory cleared her throat and spoke after a few moments of silence, "Uh, I guess you would probably want to pack your own things, huh?" She chuckled softly after she paused her actions. "I'm sorry, I just got a little excited you know, my little sister is finally coming home!" She shouted and giggled.

I moved around her and started to finishing packing what was left of my clothes. "You know, I bet you're really excited to get away from all of this." she said waving her hands around the room. "To finally get back to some normalcy." She said.

I paused and flinched slightly at the word normalcy.

Normalcy? Back to normal?

I began to zone out, getting into my own head.

"I'm sorry, did I-did I say something wrong?" She asked as she began to panic.

"No. No, you didn't it's fine." I said a bit dazed. I quickly snapped out of it and continued to hurriedly pack my last article of clothing.

"Are you sure? I- "She said worriedly.

"I said you're fine Mallory. It's fine. I'm fine. We're good." I said as I slammed the top of my suitcase down and zipped it up quickly.

She nodded her head slightly. "Well, if you're all set to go, let’s get going." Mallory said as she grabbed one suitcase and I grabbed the other.

As we exited the room and I looked back slightly at the room I called mine for the last nine months. I then turned my body forward and walked down the hallway, following slowly behind my sister. I look my time walking so that I could get one last look at all the décor and rooms that I sent the last months several months in doing arts and crafts, eating lunch, playing with board games, yoga, participating in group therapy, and individual therapy. As strange as my sister may think this place it, this was my normalcy for nine months and I was about to be pulled from it before I was ready.

A few moments had past and we made to her car. It was a 2019 Volkswagen Beetle. Was it cute. Sure. Practical? Absolutely not. This care had to be one of the tiniest cars to ever exist. There’s barely enough room to fit both of these suitcases. As my sister thought about this “dilemma”, I gently tugged on the passenger, signaling her to unlock it. Seconds later I heard the sound of the car door unlocking followed by two high-pitched beeps. I then proceed to move the car seat forward, I figured I didn’t need that much space considering I was on 5’2. I then eased the large suitcase into the backseat. As soon as I finished, I looked behind me see that Mallory had managed to squeeze the other suitcase into the tiny trunk.

(Mallory’s car)

I then went to sit down in the passenger's seat. I began to position myself to accommodate to the lack of space. Once I got comfortable, I buckled my seatbelt. and buckled up. Mallory then opened the driver's side got in, buckled up and started the drive home.

As we began the journey back home, I contemplated whether or not to look out the window. To be honest looking reminding me of the path I took to get here in the first place. I didn’t want to think about it. I just didn’t want to think at all. I just wanted to shut down for a minute or two. I decided that trying sleep will help me just disappear for a few hours.

I as I began to drift off, Mallory began to play some music. Which I was glad for. For some reason, music has always helped me sleep and get through just about anything ever since I was little.

I woke up to the sound of tapping. I squinted out the car window to see Mallory rapidly tapping on the window. I groaned as I slowly unbuckled my seatbelt and sluggishly began to make my way out of the car.

"We're home! Well, my house. It looks different since the last time you’ve seen it!” She said excitedly. I just blinked slowly trying to process everything that was happening.

“I thought you'd be more comfortable at my house before you go to mom and dad's house. Don't worry about your stuff we can get it later." She said.

She locked the car door and began to shuffle through her key rings to get the key to the front door. The house looked very different from the outside. It had a more modern look, which I wasn't surprised at Mallory is an interior decorator after all and she happens to be very good at her job.

(Mallory and Jahmal’s house)

"Welcome to Casa la Jones." She said dramatically as she flicked the house lights on.

Yeah, remember when I said she happens to be very good at her job? Yeah well, I meant to add she can sometimes be a little too good at her job. It was like Kim Kardashian meets the middle of Massachusetts.

"So, what do you think. It's nice, right?" She said grinning brightly.

"Uh, yeah. It's very nice." I said feeling slightly overwhelmed by grandiose it was.

I looked around the house and noticed that it was quiet, too quiet. Where was Jamal?

I rubbed my tired eyes and yawned as I ask, "So, where is Jamal?"

"Oh, Jamal I told him to go hang out with Leslie and David. You remember them, right? Two of our old friends from college." She said quickly. "I wanted us to have a sister night." She added she walked toward the kitchen.

I followed her into the kitchen and took a seat at one of the barstools.

(Mallory and Jahmal’s kitchen)

"Leslie and David?" I asked as I eyed her. She laughed lightly, "You probably don't remember them, huh?"

No kidding we're ten years apart. If you meet them in college, then that means I was definitely learning how to multiply fractions in the fifth grade.

“You were only like what, nine when I brought them home with me during spring break. But yeah, they became really good friends of ours towards the end of college. Then you know, you eventually went away to college, so you guys never really got to know each other." She said quickly again.

"Anyway, I made your favorite. Chicken Parm." She said as she walked towards the refrigerator.

Chicken Parmesan?! I hate chicken parmesan (and it's actually her favorite). The tomato sauce always gives me extremely bad acid-reflex. My favorite meal is Chicken Alfredo, but I will still eat her meal because she thought about me, sort of.

After Mallory placed our food in the microwave, she leaned over the kitchen island.

"So, I know you normally sleep in the basement when you stay but... it's being occupied at the moment. But good news you can have the guess room. I remolded it as well. You remember where it is right?"

I didn't even bother to question who or what was taking over the basement. I just nodded my head. As we continued to wait, for our food to warm up Mallory began to hum. I began to analyze the new interior of the kitchen. I started to get anxiety looking at all the changes that not only happened to her house but even the growth between her and her friends that came to know as just the people who “needed somewhere to crash for spring break. And now the basement, the room I always stayed in is now preoccupied. When did everything change? I was only gone for nine months; how can things change this much!?

"Prue? Prue? Hello? Are you okay? Speak to me." Mallory said as she made way over to me and grabbed my shoulders.

"I'm fine. I just- I just was thinking about something." I said trying to end the conversation.

Mallory nodded her head and turned her attention to the microwave as it beeped loudly. Mallory began to plate the food and grab glasses. She poured herself some wine.

"So, I only have white wine right now but-." I cut her off and spoke with a tight face, trying to contain myself. "Mallory. I don't drink remember. Frist off, I hate alcohol. Plus, the medication. I'm on medication remember." I said through slightly gritted teeth.

She placed the bottle down on the countertop. "You're right. How could I, forget. I'll get you some, uh water." She said as she turned on the faucet and filled the glass halfway.

Mallory then grabbed the two plates carefully and placed one in front of me and the other at the head of the island. She then went back and grabbed the drinks.

After a few moments of eating, Mallory cleared her throat. "So, Prue. Before you go to mom and dad's house, I just wanted to talk to you about somethings." I ignored her as I continued to pick at my food, trying to avoid as much tomato sauce as possible.

"You know, now that you’re home there's some rules that you have to follow. It was a deal we made in order for the courts to agree to let you out early." She said softly.

I slammed my hands down on the countertop. "Can we not talk about this right now! "I yelled.

"Prue." She said gently trying to rapidly diffuse the situation.

"No, don't Prue me. Nine months! I haven't been home in nine months and all you want to do is remind me that something is wrong with me! Why can't I just come back, eat some food and sleep in a nice warm bed!" I yelled as tears began to form in my eyes.

Mallory looked at me sympathetically. "I-I'm not reminding you or even saying- "She started to say before I interrupted her.

"But you are. The face-expression you're making is the same one you had the day I got sent away, and the same one mom and dad had on too. And you know what, it's the same one they will have on tomorrow. That's exactly why I don't want to go there tomorrow!" I said as I got up from the barstool.

"Prue. Please." Mallory said with her hands up in surrender. "Oh my God!” I screamed as I backed away and spread my arms out wide. “You see! You see! You're still making that face and now- now you have your hands up. Like you’re scared. You think I'm going to do something don't you, that I might try and hurt you! You're calling me crazy and you don't even have to say it!" I yelled as tears began to stream down my face rapidly.

"Prue, I never said you were crazy. I just. I'm just trying to help. If you don't follow these rules, then you have to go back." She said still standing defensively.

I let out an agonizing scream. "Good, great! Then I'll be back where I belong with the crazy people, right?” I said as I gripped the sides of my face tightly.

I then took quickly grabbed my plate of Chicken Parmesan and smashed it onto the floor, "And I hate Chicken Parmesan, it gives me acid-reflex. You should fucking know that by now!" I exhaustedly screamed one last time as I ran up the stairs and slammed the guest room door.

Hours had past and the house remained quiet. The sun had gone down and it was so dark out that the sky had looked pitch black. I looked over at the digital clock in the room and saw the time. The clock read 12:32 AM. I tried to go back to sleep. Normally, it was never easy for me to fall asleep sue to me feeling anxious all the time, but right now the nausea I was feeling due to my acid-reflex acting up only aided in my lack of sleep.

I let out a groan as I held my stomach tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut hoping that the pain would go away or subside in at least the slightest way. Unfortunately, nothing was working. The only other possible solution I could think of was to take a walk. Usually, I take walks to get my mind off of things if music wasn’t an option or if I just needed some fresh air. Before I went to the hospital, I would walk around with my music and let it guide me. But, since that's not an option I guess I will let my feet be my guide this time.

I got up from the soft bed and tied my sneakers. I grabbed my jacket and slipped it around the pink pajamas my sister had left out for me. I stood up too quickly and fell back down. I felt a wave of nausea hit me. I took a deep breath and tried again, this time getting up carefully and slowly.

I walked quietly out of the room closing the door gently. I slowly crept down the hallway and down the staircase. I then slipped passed the kitchen and exited out of the front door careful not to slam the door too hard. I wasn't too worried about the door, since I knew it had an instant lock.

I began walking down the cul-de-sac styled neighborhood. I gripped the sides of my jacket as the cold air made me shiver slightly. I kept stopping to take deep breaths to try and stop my waves nausea that came every couple of minutes. I kept walking for a few minutes until I couldn't take it anymore. I felt too sick. I need to sit down.

I looked around me to see if I could spot somewhere to sit. I decided to sit on the curb in front of a random house. I felt dizzy and my head began to pound. Before I knew it, I had vomited.

"Fuck!" I yelled as some landed on my pajama shirt and jacket. I quickly covered my mouth as I notice my voiced had echoed. I looked around to see if anyone in the neighborhood had heard me. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief as I saw no sign of active neighbors.

"Hello? Whose out there?1" I heard a voice yell.

Damn It.

I began to panic as I saw a house light flick on. I then heard the sound of curtains aggressively sliding open. I still stood there, like a deer in headlights.

"I'm calling the cops!" The older male voice threatened.

I began to run as quickly as I could down the street as I saw more house lights begin to turn on. I started to feel dizzy again and my head was pounding even more. There was nowhere to hide so I decided to sit beside a small shrub on the sidewalk.

What felt like 15 minutes had gone by and I thought for sure I was off the hook until I then heard police sirens in the distance getting closer and closer by the second. I groaned, placing my head in my hands.

The sirens came to a stop. I heard footsteps approach me and the sound of a very familiar voice.

"I've gotten calls from all over the neighborhood, something about a nutcase screaming throughout the neighborhood and waking them up. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?" The office asked smugly.

I just groaned in pain and annoyance. The officer walked closer to me.

"So, now you've got nothing to say, huh? Typical." He asked as he waved a flashlight on me. I groaned again, not wanting to look up at him.

"Look at me." He said sternly. I dreaded this moment.

I lifted my head up and placed my left arm in front of my face to try and block the bright light radiating from the flashlight,

I then heard laughter, followed by "Oh! Oh! You’re kidding! This must be my lucky day! Prue? Prue- Prudence Walker. Is that really you? They said you were getting out today but never did I think, I'd find you roaming the streets. Less than 12 hours back and you're already losing your shit again, huh?" He said laughing.

“Can’t say I’m surprised.” He said waving the flashlight around.

I groaned again as I began to wrap my arms around my waist, hunching over slightly. "J-just take me back to my sisters' Taylor.

(Picture of Officer Taylor Miller)

"That's Office Miller to you. And why should I? I could just arrest you and have you shipped right back to that psych-ward." He said smirking.

I didn't say anything to him. I just gave him a pleading looking, hoping that he would find some kindness in his black heart to just take me back to my sister's house.

He laughed again and grabbed my arm roughly, he pushed me into the back of the police cruiser and proceeded to drive off. Fifteen minutes had gone by and we arrived in front of my sisters' house. He opened the door and I walked out quickly trying to move past him.

"Not a chance." he said as he gripped my right arm tightly. He dragged me to the front door of the house and immediately proceed to bang loudly on it.

We waited a few seconds, before the door opened widely.

"Prue!" Mallory yelled exasperatedly as her eyes grew wide instantly.

"I found her just roaming the streets. The neighbors called. You've gotten keep an eye on her. I can let her off with a warning this time." He said fakely, pretending to care as he let go of my arm.

"Get inside, please." She said exhaustedly.

As I walked inside, I heard Mallory say, "Thanks Tay, I swear it won't happen again. I owe you one."

I door then slammed shut.

"I-I just can't right now. We will talk in the morning." She said, in a very and disappointed and exhausted tone.

I went straight upstairs and tried to get some sleep trying to avoid thinking about the many conversations that awaited me tomorrow.

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Links to:

Chapter 2

Masterpost

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claiirvoyants · 4 years

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𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒏𝒆𝒚, 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋.

❝ yesterday, you were an OLD MAN spitting cherry pits into the weeds. today you are a fisherman’s daughter, dragging small minnow-nets through the 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔. tomorrow you could be a DOE-EYED dancer, an ash-stained chimney sweep, a beggar singing psalms, anyone. when you lean over the side of the lake, the 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬 whisper, be free. taste the air. do you feel the echoes of ancient energies moving into new bodies? they learn of suffering and beauty, again, again. 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐒. ❞

hey, isn’t that SYBILL PATRICIA TRELAWNEY? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the forty eight year old halfblood WITCH is a ravenclaw alumnus who has gone on to be the professor of divination at hogwarts school. i’ve heard they can be quite ECCENTRIC & VIVACIOUS, but i don’t know... they came off very RUMINATIVE & HAUGHTY in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it? click 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 for statistics and 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 for her pinterest.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘.

buckle up ! i’m abt to show u guys i can write a short or at least SNAPPY intro.

sybill was born in the seaside town of port isaac in 1972, the product of an affair between her pure blood mommy ( cressida trelawney ) and a muggle daddy ( edwin teague ).

cressida knew abt edwin’s muggle wife. edwin’s muggle wife ( and his daughter eugenia, sybill’s half sibling ) did NOT know about his witchy gf. what happens in btwn the lines of the wizarding world stays within the lines of the wizarding world, ig.

sybill’s dad died p suddenly when she was six, and he didn’t leave anything to either her or her mum, cause... men ain’t shit ! learn it. anyway, sybill’s mum begged her slightly estranged family for like, something, and prob would have got NOTHING if she hadn’t said ‘hey, my daughter is totally the next cassandra ( and also DEFINITELY a pureblood )-’

this changed things a bit, even tho at the time... sybill had not shown any actual prophetic talent, lmao. she was a six yr old playing like, dolls, and trying to bring fishies home from the seashore in glass bottles, u know?

the fam took them back under their wings, and sybill was told to keep her little mouth shut ( in like, a kind of nice way ) about both the fact she was a halfblood ( she prob didn’t conceptualize this one very well at six ) and the fact she was not a seer. she also prob didn’t conceptualize this very well. but playing pretend is something kids LIKE to do, so when cressida told sybill to say some mysterious things and play this role, she took to it immediately ! it was fun !

it stopped being fun PRETTY quickly, but as sybill got older and understood things a bit more, she clued in to the fact that her grandparents and extended trelawney family were quite... uh, to put it mildly, strict. her mum had gone out into the world on her own because she didn’t fit in the box that the trelawney’s had expected her to ( like a lot of pureblood fams ), and sybill was a lot more like cressida than she was the rest of her fam, and she was also, like. way more attached to her than she was them, so while it stopped being a fun game, she still kept to it for her mummy.

got her hogwarts letter. headed off. breathed an actual sigh of RELIEF when she was on the train, cause... she didn’t have to pretend to be something she was pretty sure she wasn’t anymore, and at hogwarts, she wouldn’t have to go through the ‘training’ and ‘lessons’ for her future as a famed seer that her fam were prepping her for. she got sorted into ravenclaw, which tracked ( most of the fam were ), and she just... went abt her life.

i know this is gonna sound wild. but at hogwarts, sybill was... exceedingly ordinary. she was a well behaved young lady who was assumed to be of quality breeding, and though her grandparents spoke highly of their little seer granddaughter to their friends, the kids and grandkids of those people didn’t really ... know much about this. sybill flew pretty far under the radar, and that was how she liked it. she graduated with top marks, turned of age, and started working for her grandparents on a full time basis in the little fortune teller shop they had at this point in time at the divide between knockturn alley and diagon alley - she’d already spent summers with them, so it was just one more step. still, no discernible seer talent.

very appropriately, it all started with death omens. sybill had always faked what she was seeing cause she sort of had to, so she’d always made the future sound pretty bleak - but there’s bleak and then there’s seeing grims wherever she went. a month later, her grandmother ( a woman who sybill could never decide was either a talented seer in her own right or a talented liar also ) was dead. it was sudden, and things seemed to escalate exponentially from here. within a year, her grandfather, an aunt and her own mother had passed on ; and sybill had started to notice. changes.

kinda hard not to notice the fact she was beginning to go to sleep in a very warm and cosy bed and wake up barefoot and naked in the middle of the creek at the bottom of the garden, arms raised to the sky, images seered to the back of her eyelids. sybill consulted dozens of healers. she was given dozens of different potions to aid her sleeping, she was told that she had been through a lot of loss in a short amount of time, it was natural to begin having sleeping issues and the images she saw were only NIGHTMARES, or dreams, or the echo of something normal from her subconscious. the potions didn’t work tho ! the spells, the advice, the grief counselling they sent her to... over the next while, sybill’s life really began to unravel, and she couldn’t understand it, so she definitely couldn’t explain it.

throw everything together and mix some severe money issues in as sybill was never very good at actually running the store and was now dealing with a whole lot of confusing shit - she loses the shop, then the house, and this is what eventually brought her to albus dumbledore, where - haha ! - she made her first ever actual prophecy. fun ! sucks she doesn’t rmbr it <3

sybill got the job based on that, but figured it was cause he liked her a lot ( he didn’t ). life straightens out somewhat, she moves into hogwarts ( did eventually buy a cottage in hogsmeade since she got married and w/e, but is back living in hogwarts now they’re divorced ), she terrifies students for many years over, blah blah blah. makes a second prophecy to harry potter ( doesn’t rmbr that one either ), fights in the battle of the astronomy tower, fights in the battle of hogwarts, yada yada yada.

i won’t say whether she ever thought herself a legitimate seer, or ever learned to think of herself as one, or ever figured that was maybe what her ( still persistent ) sleep walking was. got my thoughts ! think its fun to just leave it at : maybe ! maybe she’s a seer, maybe she’s half of one, maybe she’s a real good liar. she had plenty of practice ! either way, she really embraced her weirdness ( shoutout to mama cressida for teaching her to b weird and love every second of it ) and has spent the past couple decades just straight vibing.

can’t think of anything else to add. come to syb if u want some wizard pot ?

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒.

SYBILL TRELAWNEY ( sandra oh ) is looking for their EX WIFE / PARTNER who resembles SARAH SHAHI, RENEE ELISE GOLDSBERRY, CARLA GUGINO, SARAH RAFFERTY / ANY FC and should be 45+. applicants do have to contact RACHEL / PETRIICHVRS or DISCORD to talk over the details before applying. ( i’m really open ! mostly because i'm entirely erasing the mr higglebottom thing, so we have so much freedom here in terms of… how they met, when they fell in love, how long they were married, how they’re dealing with the co-parenting thing, etc. sybill really did love them, that much i do know - but the marriage fell apart in my mind, sometime before the battle of hogwarts. maybe during her disastrous fifth year, when professor umbridge was, you know, attempting to ruin her life. i imagine they were a bit more maternal than sybill, and probably entertained / were even quite fond of how eccentric she was for years, but just eventually… got tired of it, or of how she wasn’t really putting their homelife above hogwarts, etc, and love just… was not enough to save ‘em. i think it’d be neat if they were a professor at hogwarts, too - maybe even a canonical one, like aurora sinistra ! - and their cute little staff room moments turned into total awkwardness for everyone else at the school < / 3 )

SYBILL TRELAWNEY ( sandra oh ) is looking for their ADOPTIVE CHILD who resembles TATI GABRIELLE, ASA BUTTERFIELD, KAYLEE BRYANT, VERNON CHWE / ANY FC and should be 18 - 22. applicants do have to contact RACHEL / PETRIICHVRS or DISCORD to talk over the details before applying. ( you have some choices ! i don’t mind whether they’re biologically her ex wifes, for example, or whether they were adopted, and if so, they absolutely could have been adopted at a later age - in fact, i think it’d be really interesting if they were. they were raised by sybill and her now ex wife, anyway, and would have attended hogwarts - unless… honestly, if u wanted to go a route of them being a squib or something i would be HERE for it - but, really, i don’t think that sybill has been the best of mothers, especially since she’s always been the sort of woman to put her ‘career’ [ which in her case is just, her being a seer ] above all else. she never would have intended to be the absent parent, and i guarantee she’s tried to be the ‘fun one’ moreso than that, but i gotta say. huge believer in acknowledging the faults of my chars. honestly, i feel like kids just aren’t her thing, and the likelihood is she decided to make them her thing for her ex wife - but she relates better to like, fully formed people, and only in more recent years has probably started to try be more of the sort of person they need. whether they’re here for that or no is absolutely up to you ! )

#nox.intro #( 𝐒𝐘𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐘 ) ━━━ * biography !#it is what it

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sidelinesbysam · 4 years

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I’m a Senior Again...I think

Back in the day I remember what it was like to become a senior. It was June of 1977 and it was a glorious day! We were just wrapping up our Junior year at Proviso West High School and as the final days of junior year ticked away, we all became filled with the anticipation of what was about to take place. Well almost all of us. There were a few dudes hanging out behind the auto shop that may not have had quite the excitement and focus as the rest of the Class of 78. But nonetheless, it was here...the day my friends and I were waiting for. As the last final exam was completed and that final bell rang, just like that, I was a senior! When you go to a huge high school like Proviso West, it’s easy to get lost in the crowd. Now I certainly wasn’t one of the cool kids but I do have to admit, I had some really cool friends heading into that senior year. And they were all awesome and cool in their own way

Even though during those years I never eclipsed the 5’6” mark on the wall, I had some good friendships with some really big dudes at PWHS. I mean they were big...tall...vertically unchallenged as it were. Brett seemed to be 7’ and so did Ron. Pat O was a monster too. Looking back I’m going to guess they were in the mid 6 foot range but to me they were giants. We were friends all four years but this year, senior year was different. We were on top of the mountain of high school life and those guys were the coolest of cool. Being a high school athlete had to be the pinnacle. Especially becoming a senior.

Somehow I had also forged a close friendship with one of the prettiest girls in a school of thousands. Carolyn was the captain of the dance and pom pom squad and her and I used to meet in the halls between classes and we chatted almost everyday. And she hung out with the greatest collection of friends that made an adolescent guy like me crazy.

I may not have been a cool kid but when I became a senior I did some things that I thought were pretty cool at the time, and maybe still. I was there editor of the Mural in 1978 which was the high school yearbook. Everyday for months the staff and I met to build that 300+ page yearbook that holds the memories of turning into a senior for so many of my classmates. Along with Mike, my still best friend ever, we took nearly every one of the candid photos for that book and when the first copy was delivered, maybe for the first time in my life, I felt really accomplished and pretty cool. I was also the sports editor of the Profile, the school newspaper. I had my own column and I wrote stories about all the different sporting events that entire senior year too. I wrote some stories that were really good and insightful and a few others that got me threatened with a meeting in the parking lot after school. Such is the life of a journalist! At the time I was sure that those experiences were going to launch me into a career of journalism. Looking at the media today, maybe it’s a blessing my life took another direction. After all these years, turning a senior at PWHS is mostly a clouded memory. I recall bits and pieces. I was the dude at basketball games that got hoisted up on someone's shoulders and shouted out, “Give me a P…” I remember being the first person to put on the new Panther mascot costume Coach Lucas and Mr. Skul had bought and I remember being a faithful part time team manager for the basketball team that senior year. I remember after the last loss of the season I sat in the locker room with those cool giants and I cried. “Coach Luke” came over and consoled me and told me thanks for everything. That moment really meant the world to me and it was probably the first time I considered being a senior was coming to a close.

I even met my first wife my senior year. She wasn't a Panther but she did live close by in Elmhurst. We met at Dominick's and that eventually led directly to two great kids and three grandkids. Wow! All in all, being a senior was pretty cool.

And here I am today. Once again, I’ve become a senior. But let me tell you, it came without the same anticipation or excitement. Now to be completely clear, there is some debate as to when a person officially becomes a senior. Some say it’s 65. The Social Security Administration, in some cases, says it’s 62. For some reason, me personally always had the number 60 attached to it. Maybe now that I’m 60, I should rethink the connection. But you know what, it’s just a number and just a word. Some people say that in the context of growing old, the word senior has a negative connotation. The PC word to be used should be “elderly.” Really, elderly? I don’t like that at all. I may not be old but I am definitely not elderly. Am I? But for the sake of argument, let’s just say 60 is seniorly. What sort of cool things come with becoming a senior this go around? It appears that the gallbladder is a right of senior passage. That thing must not like being housed in a senior because half of everyone I know had to have it removed. And remember, as a senior, people like to tell you it’s not surgery...it’s just a procedure. Another thrill of being a senior is the eyesight. It appears as you progress through the years you go from readers to prescription glasses to bi-focals to trifocals and then “progressives.” The pinnacle (I hope) of a never ending battle with blurry vision. Another treasure of seniordum is that first 30 minutes or more of every single morning for the rest of ever I guess. Back in the day my alarm would go off, I would spin out of bed, get ready for school or work and take off. Now there is a strategic series of snoozes, slow turns over the edge of the bed, an occasional reach for the wall and a very deliberate walk to the first destination in the morning. Sorry dogs, your business has to wait for my business. And what do seniors do while doing their business? I, for one, look at The Facebook. And what do I see when I look at The Facebook? It appears people my age look a lot older than I think I look. Must be part of that whole “blurry vision” issue. If I am in fact a senior again, it sure looks a lot different than it did 42 years ago. But ironically, there are the benefits.

Back in 1978, as a senior, we thought we could do anything. We had a closed campus at PWHS but at lunchtime I still left to go to McDonald’s for a burger or Ne’Joes for an Italian sub. Once the truant officer stopped me at the gate before I got out of the south lot and asked me where I thought I was going. I chose what I thought was the best route and told him to get some lunch. He handed me a 5 and asked if I would grab him something. Being a senior had it’s privilege. And being a senior still does today. I find that as a senior, if that’s what I am, I can get away with saying things I couldn’t when I was younger. Now for the record, subtlety helps, but having the same filter as a younger man is not required. I notice that beating around the bush is a much shorter process.

Me: “Can I have just a large iced tea? That's it.”

The other person: “Anything else with that?”

Me again: “Did you NOT hear the words JUST and THAT'S IT tucked into that sentence?”

The disgruntled other person: “(grumble...mumble...old fart)”

But in reality, landing at 60 and looking at life in perspective ain’t such a bad thing. There are some real blessings to this senior stuff and I’m not talking about AARP discounts. This is more about life in general. I have four great kids that are moving through life at breakneck speed sometimes, and I love them very much and I’m so proud of them all. I wish we connected more often but modern day electronics makes it easier to fill the gaps. A quick text or a social media “like” or thumbs up will never be a substitute for a call or a visit, but it lets us know that we’re all still out there. And I have the blessing of three grandkids that fill my life with joy and happiness. The 12 year old lives in south central IL so we need to use our devices to connect and talking to grandpa isn’t much of a priority to a video game playing, pre-teen but we do our best. The 8 and 6 year old live close by and I get to see them frequently. My granddaughter who is the youngest, observes my senior status by asking, “grandpa, why do you sit in your chair and watch those cooking shows all the time?” I want to load up one of those unfiltered replies but she’s so darn cute I just tell her, “Because I can’t find the remote to change the channel.” The fun part about my middle grandson is that at 8 years old he’s starting to let his hair grow out. And in senior fashion I asked him if he was trying to look like one of the Beatles. That got me the most puzzled look and after a pause, “who’s that?”

And as a senior today, I look back to when I was a senior back then. I fondly remember those giants that I was friends with. Sadly Brett lost his life several years ago but I still think of him from those days and I can’t help but smile. Even though he was a massive dude in my eyes, I’ll always remember that he had a giant heart too. He always treated me like I was part of his circle even though I existed on the edge of that circle at best. And that pretty dance team captain that befriended me way back when, well she is still a BFF and not only one of the most beautiful women I know inside and out, she’s a successful business woman, an author, a proud momma and a loving, devoted wife. And I can gladly say, even though we’re a couple of hundred miles apart, we stay connected and chat often. My best friend forever Mike and I connect almost daily. Sometimes it’s a call or a text. Maybe a dad joke or a backhanded jab. We even have laughs about being seniors. Sometimes remembering 1978 and other times trying to remember stuff from 2020.

Through the miracle of social media, even though I live over 200 miles from where I lived the first time I was a senior, I am still connected to dozens and dozens of friends from those great days at Proviso West and even earlier at MacArthur and Jefferson. For example, at our last class reunion, Tom and his band played for a couple of hours and it’s hard to believe he and I met in 1971. That guy is a rocking, surfing, boating senior and a really cool dude (does that sound seniorish?) now living in Florida. Steve and Mark and others live in Cali, Donna lives in Texas, Bill lives in Michigan, Diane has traveled all over Europe and also lived in Germany. Rich has lived in Colorado for years. My cousin Pat and his wife Patty who are also 78ers have been in Oregon for as long as I can remember. And hundreds of others are scattered all across the land and sadly, several others have gone before us. But for those that remain, there is a line of commonality that we all share and have shared before. At one time we were all seniors before life really got going. And here we all are, seniors (maybe) again. It really doesn’t matter about our life perspectives or where we stand in today’s climate of world views, we cannot separate ourselves from the fact that we were seniors together back in 1978 and we may or may not be seniors together again now. In a few years, many of us will meet again or for the first time at a class reunion. We will have happy memories about those first senior days and share a lot of laughs and a few tears. And surely the conversation will turn to current senior days and all of our own transition to being a modern day senior.

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minah-delacroix · 5 years

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7 DAYS, 7 DATES Inside the world of Suho Kwon

A week in the life of quidditch star, Suho Kwon Delacroix

By Sarah Hughes- Freund

Beyond the paparazzi flashbulbs, masterful personal branding, and fashion and sporting prowess, lies the day-to-day business of family life. Quidditch champion, Suho Kwon gives us a sneak peek of his daily life as part of the greatest wizarding family of France.

DAY 1 : ROMAN HOLIDAY

Suho Kwon and his sister Minah pose in a high fashion impromptu shoot and sit down for a Q&A during a trip to Rome, where they traveled to attend the launch event of Agnes Seybrook’s jewelry collection, Lumière. The French stars open up about a wide range of topics from their Parisian residence to their pet peeves and biggest inspiration.

At this year’s BAT Gala in May, our friend, CHARMED alumnus André Leon Talley welcomed Minah Delacroix and Suho Kwon to the red carpet by enthusiastically proclaiming them the future of fashion. We happen to agree with him—and not just because the two of them project a classic, yet avant-garde aura that happens to align with the fashion industry’s present tastes— we believe that Elise Delacroix and Junho Kwon’s children are the future, and we wouldn’t necessarily even narrow the claim to fashion alone.

The last name Delacroix instantly brings to mind fashion house Maison Delacroix, which has become one of the biggest names in the industry throughout the last decades. In recent days, it is the younger generation of the family who dominates the fashion scene with Minah Delacroix toggling between the debut of her first clothing collection in Paris (a collaborative project with fashion powerhouse Lana Paradis), photoshoots for muggle luxury brand Dior—the 22-year-old recently became the brand’s youngest global ambassador— and the rumors of an upcoming business partnership with Enzo Saint Pierre.

The latest to add fashion to his CV, though, is no other than quidditch player and Minah’s older brother, Suho Kwon, who only a few years ago founded the successful sports brand, Quidditch Republic.

Of late, it’s been his personal life —and not the fact he signed up a millionaire contract with U.S. apparel emporium, Power Play—, under the spotlight, after a supposed split with long-time rumored girlfriend, Claire Dancourt, Suho was spotting passionately kissing none other than quidditch prodigy, Emma Muller.

Suho, who started his career in the quidditch pitch at age 16, already has five German League Cups and three European Championships under his belt, as well as captaining the South Korean National Team on the latest World Cup, on which they reached the final after having cleared Norway, vice-world champions, in the quarterfinals, in record time. Yet when your mum is the heiress of the Delacroix Group, your sister is Minah Delacroix and your dad is one of the most important figures of the British Ministry of Magic, making out with one of the most famous women in the world isn't quite as crazy as it would be for pretty much anyone else.

Sitting in a room of his sprawling holiday home in Rome, before the launch of Lumière —the latest enterprise of his second cousin, Agnes Seybrook—, Suho is down-to-earth, offering up champagne and Cauldron Cakes ("no seriously, take some!") as we chat about his love for fashion and how much he’s learned growing up with a house full of female figures. "I’m lucky to have been raised by great women and have them supporting me through thick and thin“ Suho says. "I love them, I think there should be more women like them in positions of power.”

On his sister, Minah, Suho says “She is an inspiration to me. When it comes to fashion, she’s always giving me little tips and making sure I understand that fashion is a way bigger world than what everyone sees. There are so many different components that allow a project to move forward and so many different people involved in the process.“

Reminding me that an industry friend said Minah was one of the nicest models he'd ever worked with, I tell Suho and he lights up. "That’s all I could hope for," he says smiling proudly. “That goes back to how we were raised. As our dad always taught us that you should treat everyone the same, whether it’s the president, a coworker or someone working under your command. I’m glad people regard my sister that way”.

Just on cue, Suho’s younger sister and socialite, Minah Delacroix walks through the door in route to her room. She wears a pink satin robe, slippers and her shower-wet hair pulled into a bun. She initially seems flustered, but when I ask, she kindly agrees to an interview. “This is for Suho’s cover story right?” She asks politely enough for me to understand that she won’t be answering questions that take the spotlight away from her brother. Twice reassured, Minah sits on a velvet sofa next to her brother in a leisurely, offhand way, and pours her cat, Minho, in the empty spot beside her.

Nevertheless, Suho appears skeptical “We’ll have to see about that” he predicts “She’s always in center-stage without even trying”.

Without further ado, we move onto an interview where I ask a few questions to the most famous French siblings of the Wizarding world.

Q&A

CHARMED Magazine: I’d love to ask a few questions about your personal life: Do you two live together or separately when you’re in Paris? Suho: I have my own place few blocks down the family residence; it’s sort of a necessary thing, I think, as we get older especially. It kind of happened coincidentally —the building went on sale while I was in Paris, so we went to visit it with my family and we loved it. I still spend a lot of time in the family home, but it’s important that I have my own separate space. Minah still stays with our grandparents and aunts when she’s in Paris, but she has her own apartment too. Minah: I do, but it’s just more convenient to stay with the family. It makes Paris feel more like home.

CM: Since you grew up together, you obviously must have a major shared interest. Which one is it? M: Quidditch undoubtedly. It is probably obvious for Suho given his career choice, but I love quidditch as well. I got my first broom as a toddler and started playing during my first year in Beauxbatons. S: As children, we played a lot together. I used to train Minah to become a chaser, like me, but in the end, she worked better as a beater. M: Suho is one of those typical brothers who believe his little sister wants to become exactly like him, so when he decided he wanted to be a chaser, he also decided I’d be one too. He used to drill me on free throws, but he hated it when the quaffle touched the hoop before gliding trough because apparently, players who scored that way lacked elegance. If I ever made a throw that bounced on the hoop before scoring, he'd yell ‘doesn’t count!’. It was frankly ridiculous.

CM: Other than quidditch, is there any other way you bond with each other? S: We’ve grown up together, so it’s kind of inevitable that because we’ve shared the same experiences, we’ve also developed similar interests. M: On our downtime, we love going to movies and just being able to enter someone else's creative world. We love it, but we don’t get to watch very much of it. Although we watch all the stuff our friends make S: Another thing we connect over is food. Growing up, we always had dinner together as a family. Obviously, as we’ve gotten more intense with our careers there’s not always the opportunity to do that, but when Minah and I are in the same city, we’ll eat all meals together. That being said, we’re not the same. I’m way more into following sports than Minah is. She has separate interests as well. M: I think I have more of an interest in fashion, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t have an interest in fashion. S: I’m super into fashion! Maybe not in a traditional or expected way, but I love it as well.

CM: Speaking of fashion, which one is more fashion-forward? S: I want to say Minah, but actually, we both are very fashion savvy. I guess it’s more evident for her since she’s one of the faces of the family business and pretty much everybody's fashion muse, but I’m into fashion as well. I have my own sportswear brand and we recently signed a partnership with Power Play. We're doing well. M: I think I would pick Suho. He is probably even more picky about what he wears. When we were younger, Suho and my cousins Gabe and Agnes (Seybrook) actually made up a fashion clique they dubbed the “7 Brand Club”. It was hilarious, they only wore clothes from seven luxury brands and they would brag about it. Thankfully they forgot about it now that they’re all grown up, but I always tease them about it.

CM: Well, it sounds like an interesting group! We all know that siblings sometimes drive each other crazy, and you two spend a lot of time together, so I would love to know how you get on each other’s nerves. S: I think I get on her nerves more than she gets on mine, naturally. I’m her older brother, so I give her a hard time sometimes. M: He has a great sense of humor, which I’m sure so many people appreciate, but sometimes I’m like, ‘Okay, okay, I get it, you’re funny.’ He’s also very overprotective at times and granted, it is nice to have him worrying about me, but when he fusses over the minimal details, it can be unnerving.

CM: Is that your biggest pet peeve about him? What do you love most about him? And viceversa M: In general, Suho is just easy to get along with. I love how genuine he is and how unapologetic he is about it, despite it all. My biggest pet peeve is related to his overprotectiveness… he basically calls non stop when I don’t pick the phone. It’s so annoying, but we’re both bad at staying mad at each other, so whatever happens, we confront each other, forgive and move on. S: To me, I guess, Minah is the person that can make me happy no matter what I’m going through. She really makes everything seem easy. Pet peeves... I don’t know. She is seriously the best, but she never picks the phone and is terrible at texting back. [Laughs]

CM: Onto the most serious topics, the positive path and the trajectory that you guys are on, where does that come from? Who are your biggest inspirations? M: My family in general. Growing up, all I saw was my aunts trying to be the best version of themselves and people coming to my grandparents for wisdom or guidance. It has been very inspiring to grow up in such an environment where everybody is just so accomplished. S: I 100% agree with Min on that one. Our parents and family are definitely my biggest role models. And that’s where we both pull all of our inspiration from.

CM: How would you describe your relationship with each other? M: Suho and I are very similar in a lot of ways. Being close in age has put us right next to each other for a lot of things in life, so he’s always been my greatest supporter and something akin a parent to me. At this point, we’re both very focused on our own lives, projects and whatnot, but my relationship with him is sacred to me, so I try to spend as much time as possible with him. S: We’re each other's support system. If I’m down, Minah is that one person that makes me laugh and turns things around the quickest. I know how cliched it sounds, but we truly are best friends. I mean it.

CM: It’s beautiful that you guys are in such lockstep. Minah, talking about your brother you said that you felt like the two were almost like twins, like you could finish each other’s thoughts. Were you guys always that close? M: We’ve always been incredibly close, but at the same time our family never pushed us to do it all together. I guess we’ve got time apart in order to realize who we really are individually and in the process we’ve developed this close bond and trust for each other. Suho really is an amazing brother, he knows me very well and understands my motivations better than anyone else.

CM: Do you have a favorite memory of each other? M: I just thought of the time we had to be homeschooled. Neither of us was good at focusing on it, quite honestly it was a drag. We’d pretend that we were doing our school work, but the moment our aunts turned their backs, we’d be running around the manor and terrorizing the house staff. I don’t know if that’s my favorite—but it’s definitely a special one. I also loved being in the same quidditch team as him during high school. As the chaser and beater, we carried a big part of the team’s dynamics. We know each other so well that any time one of us made a mistake during practice, we would look at each other and laugh really hard. Of course, a mistake was unforgivable during an actual match for Suho, but it was fun to play together. We complemented each other very well, I’m actually getting emotional talking about it. S: Minah was just ruthless, it was amazing to see her play and I think I agree with most of the things she just said, but personally, I think traveling to Korea together, for the first time was a very unique experience. We both got to experience so many things, meeting our paternal family, visiting all these crazy places and just having each other to rely on. It was just awesome. I’ll forever remember that trip.

CM: Has there ever been, like, some sort of feeling of competition between the two of you? S: We never really felt competitive because Minah has always been better than me at everything. There’s been no competition. M: [laughs] Oh, no! That is so not true. S: It is, Minah was into modeling and basically under the spotlight from a very young age, so I was like “My younger sister is, like, 5, and she’s making all these cool stuff. What’s happening?”. Minah had an entourage of people behind her while doing photoshoots and then she would go to school, learn languages and play muggle sports and I was all like “I’m underachieving.” Minah has always been special and whatever she wanted to do, she did it amazingly. She is a natural, and never forces anything at all. Minah just didn’t have as big as a passion for quidditch as me. But if she did, she could be doing what I’m doing right now and she would be so much better.

CM: Finally, Describe each other in three words. M: “Hilarious”, “supportive” and “loving”. S: “Creative”, “powerful” and “unique”. No, wait, three words it’s not enough, I have to add “inspiring” too.

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#magazine #edits #oc #minah #suho #delacroix family

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