[Axel: sixteen years old; high school]

"Let's go, Axel!" Most of the students call out as they stampede towards the exit.

I just wave a hand at them for my response, showing them my twin dimples for a blinding grin. Girls automatically gush and giggle, looking at me with longing as if they don't want to leave just yet. It always works all the time.

“Hey Axel, the bell has already rung. Let's move our asses off to the other room." Jethro, my best friend-¢um-neighbor, says.

"Have you forgotten?” I quirk a brow at him, still holding my bored pose since the first period -- slouching on my seat, thighs wide and chin propped up by a palm. "The professor's not coming today. He got into trouble with a student, remember?”

“Oh, yeah right." Jethro drops his bag back to his seat and turns to the window outside our classroom. "Aren't we going to have a sub-teach or something?"

"Dunno."

"Was that even true? You know, Mr. Connor seems not the type to sexually harass a girl much more a student."

"No idea." I shrug and lean back to my seat.

"Of all the geniuses in campus, you're the only one who doesn't look the part, you know. You're neither studios nor a nerd. You barely go to library. You surround yourself with so many friends with different personalities. You're as cool as cucumber, verging to apathy." Jethro shakes his head which makes me grunt and frown.

"Stereotypical? You're better than that, Jet."

“No, it's actually true. Just look at Betty, Don, Maggie. Oh, let's not forget Brian with his thick glasses." Jet says matter-of-factly, enumerating the geniuses and nerds in campus. "Oh, it's little bro with another girl again!”

Of all Jethro have said today, this is the only time my interest piques. I quickly stand from my seat, creating a huge commotion when my chair noisily collapses to the floor, before peering from the window towards the gym two stories below. I notice Jethro's startled reaction at my side but I ignore him.

"Isn't that the same girl who asked you out the other week? Did you turn her down?"

No\, I didn't. In fact\, we've been texting ever since\, although lately her replies have suddenly become fewer and far in between. She even starts sounding cold with every message. Now I know why. She's warming up to another d*ck. F*cking slut!

"That freak!" I mutter under my breath, feeling my pulse starts to become erratic and my eyes squint to where he sits.

Annalouie Webber. What a pretentious name. It sounds like a girl I want to laugh at it. Laugh at his face, show him how I mock his very being. He's three years my junior. No, four years at most. Right now he's thirteen while I'm sixteen. Until my birthday a few months from now, only then our four-year gap resumes.

He's younger but he acts around me as if we're equal. If he has nothing to say, get ready to be ignored. And he mostly has nothing to say. Hell, he doesn't talk at all. Freaking rude! The most you can get out of him is either a shrug or a grunt and a long goddamn creepy stare, it f*cking pisses me off.

Right now, he's sitting on the gym bench while on their PE. Women flock him like moths to a goddamn inferno. But he remains as stoic as shit, never interacting nor making eye contact. Not even reacting to the guys' glares as if their girlfriends were snatched by him. Which I think might be true.

Where I'm cool, the freak is cold. The only thing he can probably call his best friend though is the sketchbook he always keeps close every time. Brat must be drawing some nasty shit again. Things that are inconceivable to human understanding. Bet he's drawn little devils in there, too. His minions.

"Why do you hate him so much, man?" Jethro asks at my side. "He's your brother, and younger than you. Give him some slack."

"He's not my brother!" I growl and scowl, wanting to spit fire from deep within me.

I didn't answer Jethro's former question because I can't recall what exactly ticked me off about that damn brat. Maybe along the years we spent living together under the same roof, my annoyance has piled up into an enormous grudge. I can't forget the day we first met. That was on our parent's wedding day.

…..

The long path to memory lane

[Axel: nine years old; fourth grade.]

"Oh, are you Axel? The bride's little son?" One of the many guests asks while pinching my cheek.

"Yes, maam." I answer politely and grin at her, showing my cute signature dimples.

"Oh, look at that face! You're so adorable!" She gushes, elbowing her seatmate who then joins in at praising my cuteness.

Soon enough, people flock around me and commend how behaved I am and how adorable I look on my little tuxedo. I smile even wider, resulting to my dimples deepening even more. My blue eyes sparkle from their attention while I'm swooning on my black, polished shoes.

"And who might be the boy carrying the rings?" One of my fans suddenly beams while looking at the back, a little to the left side of the church.

“I think that might be the groom's son! That's Annalouie."

Annalouie? I frown and look behind me. What kinda name's that? It sounds like a girls. But there's only one kid that's standing near the church's entrance that's close to my age and it's surely a boy. He's, indeed, carrying the pillow with the rings on it. I peruse his entire form with distaste.

Like me, he's also on a tuxedo, only he's wearing a white pair with red bowtie which is the only thing that gives color to his attire. His hair is sleek to the side and curling on the tip, imitating my moms favorite oldie singer, Elvis. His eyes are colored in moss which sparkles brightly on his chubby, pinkish face.

"Look at how adorable he is! He's dressed like Elvis Presley!" The girl who gushes to me earlier quickly betrays me and is now standing up, approaching the other boy and snaps a picture with him.

I frown but quickly school my expression. I won't let my real emotions show. Mommy said I should behave really well so that my new dad will favor me. I heard he's rich and if I'm being a good boy, he'll support my studies and give me things I want which my previous dad couldn't provide.

So with my practiced smile, I approach the boy and start up a conversation with him. "Hello. I'm Axel Bailey. My mommy's the bride. What's your name?”

The boy jerks his head up as if startled before staring hard at me. His green eyes turn dark and his already pink cheeks redden even more. He averts his gaze and looks down his white, polished shoes instead.

"Louie." He mumbles barely audibly.

"Louie?" I repeat, my voice inflects slightly in mockery. "I thought it's Annalouie?"

"Hmm." He furtively nods and turns towards the door as if wanting to bolt away. "It's my parent's names."

His answer leaves me speechless. So Anna must be his mother's name. I wonder if she's still around. My real dad died from liver damage even before my mommy could divorce him. Mom said he's a horrible drunkard. I faintly remembered him staggering back home, fighting with mom before beating her up. Or sometimes me.

"Where is she?" I can't help but ask which brings his attention back to me. "Your mom, where is she?"

Annalouie shrugs his little shoulders before dashing outside. What is wrong with him? He approaches a man outside the church who's wearing an adult replica of his own clothes. I know him. He's been in our house several times before. My mom's new husband. My new daddy, Mr. Louise Webber!

I scowl at Annalouie's deliberate way of snubbing me. My mood even becomes sourer seeing him clutching his fathers thigh as if Louise will be stolen away from him. Oh, if that's what he's afraid of, I'll definitely snatch his dad away from him. He just waits and sees!

My mother soon arrives and the wedding ceremony commences. I'm annoyed that I have to share a seat with the snub Annalouie at the first pew but I endure it for mine and my mom's future. Not to mention the video rolling at the center aside from the constant snapping of pictures everywhere. Hence, I plaster my sweet smile all throughout the ceremony.

When the wedding finally ends, we immediately proceed towards a luxurious hotel where the reception will be held. There are a lot of happenings a nine-year-old like me can't comprehend. Adult people laugh to things I don't get until I got bored and find my way towards the comfort room.

Before I can get to one though, I feel a presence following behind me. When I look around, it's Annalouie the snub. To my surprise, he smiles. Although just a little, barely noticeable, but I can tell it's definitely a smile. I frown down at him and turn away, doing exactly what he did to me earlier.

When I chance another glance at him, his smile has vanished. His lips turn down into a sad pout and his green eyes glisten like he's about to cry. My heart flutters, just not sure if it's of triumph or alarm though. Wait, why would I be alarmed at his miserable face? At least, now he knows how it feels to be ignored!

"What are you doing?" I huff when he still follows me until to the comfort room.

"I... I w-want to go with you."

"I don't wanna! You go later after I'm done!" I scowl before slamming the door shut to his face.

Serves you right! Huh!

It's been a year since we started living in the Webber's estate and I still haven't gotten myself used to the luxurious lifestyle. Everywhere I look, there are servants, cleaning the already shiny place. The house is spacious that driving a trike is possible although the large, expensive vases at the corners won't be safe to drive around.

Besides, they have a wide lawn and a garden at the back perfect for my intention. Both are impeccably maintained by a horticulturist. Trees sway and flowers bloom everywhere while birds chirp at my window every day. Although we're still at the city, we're a little far from the bustling noise. Everything is perfect!

I know mom told me to get daddy's favor but I haven't seen a chance to do so. The man is always busy, going to different countries with his private jet. I heard he's a doctor, a special kind of doctor. In fact, he owns the biggest hospital in the city and has a separate laboratory for his medical research.

Dr. Webber is a known man in medicine. His face regularly shows in both TV and magazines. My mom's a nurse so maybe that's how they met before. They move in the same circle but I wonder why mom isn't as rich as Louise. That's not a problem now though coz we're already a family. Thus, we're rich as well.

I roll to my back and close my eyes, enjoying the smell of flowers surrounding me. I might get reprimanded for lying on the grass but I just can't help myself. I like the cool breeze and sweet smell of flowers here. The giant trees create a canopy to the entire garden. Its branches cast shadows over my face, allowing the sunlight to flicker through in rays.

Another shadow hovers over me which makes me snap my eyes open. Annalouie's fat cheeks appear at my line of sight, his green eyes are like the grass and the trees I love to look at. They're cool, calming and mesmerizing. I frown, shoving his face away before sitting up.

Annalouie drops to his bum from the force of my push, clutching a sketchbook close to his chest. Out of the thousand toys he has, the sketchbook seems the most important to him because he carries it everywhere he goes. I'm both curious and annoyed. What could he be drawing in there?

"Why do you sleep here?" He asks, staring at me with his chin tucked to his chest, reminding me of a tiger on the prowl behind the bushes.

I've seen how sad he became after being ignored before and I kind of liked it. That's why, since then, I've been ignoring him the best way I can. Although when were in front of other people, I'm the friendliest and warmest big brother a little brother can ever ask for.

I plop to the grass once again, ignoring him and return to playing with my toys. Annalouie copies my position, plopping on to his stomach as well before opening his sketchbook. When he raises his eyes up to me, I quickly avert my gaze and resume playing.

A long moment later, I can't take the silence anymore. I raise my head to look up to him again only to be surprised that he's staring hard at me, unblinking. His nose and chin are both dotted with sweat while his lips are curled inwardly. His left wrist rapidly flicks to different directions over his sketchbook.

"What are you doing?"

He blinks as if startled by my question before looking down at his book. I peer at it, too, and gasp at what he's drawn there. It's me! Although there's no color to his drawing, it looks full of life. He's drawn me perfectly that I feel like I'm looking myself in the mirror.

"Let me see!" I pull the sketchbook from under his arms and examine his drawing more closely.

He's really good and his drawings are so cool. They look almost the same as the original. I can't even perfect drawing a stick man myself! How can he do this? He's just seven, isn't he? I look at him and catch him staring again. His cheeks are puffing and reddening as if he's embarrassed.

Without asking his permission, I flip the pages to see if there are more of his drawings. There are a lot of them, in fact. Animals. Flowers. People mostly I don't recognize. Some were colored, most were not. There are drawings I can't determine what they are no matter how I turn the book around.

There are also faces he's drawn but are recklessly covered with black crayon as if he hated the finish product and decided to just destroy it altogether. The last three pages are drawings of my mom, dad and lastly, his recent finish product of me. That moment, a resounding engine pulls up at the garage.

We both jerk our heads together, looking towards the direction of the sound. It's our parents! I quickly flip the page to where he drew Louise, tear it off from the spring before getting up and rush back to the house. I'm sure daddy would be happy with me if he sees this!

I feel Annalouie following behind me but I ignore him and use the back door to get into the house, running excitedly towards the living room. Just in time, the front door opens and our parents enter. I jump into my mothers arms, kiss her cheek before going to Louise to give him the same greeting.

When the man bends down to offer me his cheek, I kiss it before showing him the drawing. "Look, dad! I drew this for you!"

"O-oh!" He frowns at the drawing, glances briefly to Annalouie behind before smiling at me. "It's very good! It really looks like me. Isn't it, sweetheart?"

"Oh, let me see!" Mom takes the drawing from my hand and examines it, nodding and smiling before looking intently at me.

I know that look. It's the look that intimidates me so much that I feel like peeing on my pants. Mommy's trying to gauge my expression whether or not I'm telling the truth. I feel nervous but stand firmly despite my knees trembling a little. After a long stretch of silence, mommy smiles and breathes out a sigh.

"This is wonderful!" She gushes before giving the drawing back to me. "A drawing like that is made by a genius, no less!"

"Thanks." I say and smile to show my dimples at them, receiving both their praises through pats to my head before giving Annalouie a smug smile.

"Annalouie, aren't you going to greet us?" Louise says to his son.

"Hi, dad W-welcome back." Annalouie obliges while looking down his feet.

I frown and look at him contemptuously. Up until now, I never heard him call my mom mommy. It's as though he's telling us that he can't accept mommy into the family. But whatever. I won't let him throw us away from this house! We will live here forever!

"Annalouie, let's go back outside and play." I tell him, draping my arm over his shoulders before looking up to the adults in front of us. "May we be excused, mom, dad?"

"Of course, Axel. Please, take care of your brother."

"I will, dad." I smile at him sweetly before pulling Annalouie towards the back door with my arms still wrapped around him.

I smirk down at Annalouie, my mischievous blue eyes meeting his oblivious mossy orbs. Once we step outside though, I quickly drop the pretentious smile and so is my arm around him. I stop walking, turn to him abruptly and glare.

"I don't care if you don't like my mom or if you hate me. Rebel all you want but I'll make sure we won't leave this house!" I push the drawing back to his chest which he quickly catches before it drops.

"Um... I d-don't..."

"Shut up!" I hiss at him, cutting his words off in an instant before turning away and march back to my toys left at the garden.

Since that day, I notice Annalouie seems to have gotten used to me ignoring him. He still follows me around with his sketchbook under his arm. Whenever I snub him, he would only smile. It irritates me so much as if he's mocking me. I don't know what he has that easily upsets me. He just gets into my nerves.

Thus, I change tactic. From ignoring him, I started messing with his playtime instead. I accidentally destroy Annalouie's toys, especially his Lego, so he'd start all over again. It's not like they're built beautifully though. His robots look like clumps of plastic put together. They're such an eye sore.

When he plays in the sandbox, I'd bury his toys deep under so he'd spend the entire day digging them out. I enjoy watching his face turning red, sweat dotting his nose and chin, and his cheeks puffing out from exertion. He's fat so he needs to shed it through sweating. He should even thank me for helping him out.

I wake up with a smile on my face hearing the chirping birds on my window. It sure feels good waking up at their lovely sound. It doesn't fail to lift up my mood to a start. Flipping my blankets to the side, I slide out of my bed and pad towards the window.

The sun's already high up but I don't feel guilty for sleeping in. Weekends like this are the only day I can have a rest after a long week of restless studying. Today, I'll spend it entirely for leisure and play. I look at the lawn below and quickly notice Annalouie sitting on the swing, his eyes are trained at me.

No, I don't think he can see me through the tinted glass. But he's definitely staring at my window. It creeps me so much that I suddenly take a few steps back. Why does he always have that look on his face? I also don't understand the feeling he inspires from me. But one things for sure, I'm a little terrified by the little devil.

I huff and square my shoulders. Why would I be terrified by such a wimpy kid? I'm older and taller than him although Annalouie's fat but my build is bigger than him from working household chores when we're still living in a ramshackle apartment. My body's used to hard work so if he wants a fight, I can easily win. Hmmph!

I make my bed before getting into the connecting bath for a quick shower. Servants automatically serve me my brunch as soon as I enter the dining room after going down. I know mom and dad will be in the hospital today despite it being weekend. Which is good because I'll have fun playing with Annalouie today.

Excitement has me eating fast before dashing out of the house. Annalouie's eyes widen seeing me stepping out of the door. His spine straightens up while clutching his sketchbook tighter into his chest. He watches me approach him and stiffens when I round his back to push the swing.

"I'll swing you." I tell him, not bothering to wait for him to hold onto the metal chains.

Annalouie doesn't answer, only nods his head furtively. I push the swing harder, pushing it faster until he sails into the air. He always has a stoic face as if he's a robot and I'm dying to see what he looks like freaking out. I start giggling when he seems to panic, struggling to look at me over his shoulder while maintaining his balance.

His hands lock tightly around the chains until they turn white and his legs curl inwardly under the seat of the swing, obviously not enjoying the ride anymore. When I look up to watch his face, I panicked seeing him crying silently. Frantic, I step forward to catch the swing, wanting to halt its movement already.

However, the swing smacks hard right into my chest that I drop to my bottoms before Annalouie lunges forward and falls to the grass. I heard something snaps behind the sound of his grunt. It creates a disturbing noise together with the gritty squeaks of the swing and its rattling chains.

I rush towards him, eager to help him up to his feet but Annalouie has already sat up and sobs into his hands. I wince, feeling guilty. I only want to spook him. I never intend to really make him fall to the ground. I kneel in front of his sobbing self and pull his hands away from his face.

"A-Annalouie, I... I'm..."

"It's fine!" Annalouie suddenly jerks his head up and meets my gaze, blood seeps out at the corner of his mouth.

Although Annalouie's eyes are still streaming with tears and his nose running, he's smiling. I'm taken aback by his reaction. I'm sure the fall hurts but how can he still manage to smile like this. I'm suddenly reminded of Chuckie, the cursed doll that can't get killed. I shiver at the sight of his smiling face and bleeding lips. I suddenly stand.

"I... I'm going inside." I say before running back to the house.

That's really creepy. His smile freaks me out. Plus, his eyes are too green, too deep they almost look like the murky pond full of algae and floating crocodiles. I shiver. Annalouie is like a crocodile, lurking silently and smiling with his big, sharp teeth. One day, he's going to eat me!

The rest of the day, I try avoiding Annalouie although he insists on following me wherever I go. He seems to understand that I don't want to play with him so he maintains a considerable distance between us. He draws on his sketchbook while glancing at me from time to time as if checking if I'm still where I'm at.

By the afternoon, I get down from my bedroom towards the living room to wait for mom and dad to come home. Annalouie, as usual, follows after me. I'm getting annoyed by his constant following that I stop at the bottom of the stairs, just beside the large vase, before turning around.

Annalouie is still at the middle of the stairs, tiptoeing as if I don't know hes following me. Seeing that I'm staring at him, he stops from his descent, drops his gaze and looks down to his feet. My frown deepens at the meek look he's showing. Chuckie also looks cute if he's not stabbing people with a knife.

“Why do you keep following me, Annalouie?" I ask, frowning.

Before he can answer, a car's engine resounds outside the door, signaling us that our parents have arrived. I gasp in excitement before turning around, dashing towards the front door. However, before I can make it to the living room, my body sails forward to the vase thats standing at the side.

I forgot that it's there and now it's too late for it to be saved. My weight sends it tipping forward before it makes a loud crashing noise as it hits the marbled floor. Big and small chunks of the expensive vase exploded around, totally damaged and unfixable.

My heart pounds so loud it's deafening me, numbing my body to panic. Annalouie hurries down the stairs and stands beside me, looking at the thousand shards of the vase. Servants footsteps rush to our direction just as the door clicks and slowly opening, allowing our parents entrance before their gazes found us.

"What happened?" My mom asks, frowning at the damaged vase.

"I... It's..." I stammer, unable to admit my fault before my eyes snap to Annalouie.

"What happened, Axel?" Mommy demands authoritatively, making me shiver on my feet.

"A-Annalouie." I say with trembling voice, pointing at the boy next to me. "He... He tripped a-and landed on the v-vase. It... It was an a-accident!"

I can't meet our parents eyes so I turn to Annalouie instead. The boy stares back at me through his lashes, his chin tucked to his chest. His expression didn't change although I just put him to compromise. I swallow, hoping and praying that Annalouie would keep silent the whole time.

"It's alright, Kylie. It's just a vase. The boy said it was an accident." Dad says, putting a hand over mommys shoulders. "Alright, you clean them up." He tells the servants before looking at us. “Are you alright, boys? Were you hurt?”

I shake my head while Annalouie, to my shock, grins at daddy. No, wait. That's not a grin. He's showing our parents his teeth. He lost a tooth and I blink. Huh? How did he... I gawk at him and begin shivering in terror. Is he going to tell our dad that I pushed him off the swing resulting to him losing a tooth?

"What happened to your tooth, Annalouie?" Mommy exclaims, rushing towards us but dad stops her before she can hurt herself with the shards still scattered on the floor.

"You're a brave little one, son. You didn't even cry when you lost a tooth." Dad grins while shaking his head. "Alright, I'll call a dentist friend of mine to check up on you. Both of you go upstairs so you won't get hurt any further."

I don't need more encouraging as I dash up towards the second floor. My wild heart thumps loudly like my heavy footfalls. Once I step into my room, I slam the door shut and take rapid breathing. That was... That was so close! Dad almost discovered I did something bad! He shouldn't know that I misbehaved.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I stiffen and tremble even harder. Who could it be? If it's mommy, I don't want to open the door. I know mommy always has a way of knowing the truth. I don't even know how she does it. The knocking stops but I still wait for another few minutes until I'm sure the person outside has left.

When I've already calmed myself down, I carefully open my door and see no one outside. The hallway is silent but something catches my eyes. On the floor of my doorway is a red metal box with white cross on top of it. Is it what I think it is? I scan the hallway once again and notice Annalouie's door is a little ajar.

Upon closer look, the boy stands behind his door, peering silently through the little open gap. I cringe seeing his deep, green eyes like the leery eyes of a cat at night. I pick up the first aid kit before slamming the door shut once again, looking at the box in confusion.

Why did Annalouie give me this? I check myself and only then I notice for the first time that I actually stepped on a shard earlier. The side of my left foot is bleeding, although it's just a small cut. How did he even know it when I didn't feel it myself?