Chapter 1

The thunder didn’t just crack; it shrieked, like a banshee mid-breakdown. The sky churned with bruised clouds and purple lightning veins, swirling as if ink had been stirred into spoiled milk. Rain lashed in every direction. Sideways, slantwise, even upward like gravity had given up.

Julian stood alone in the middle of it all, soaked to the bone, wearing a ridiculous ruffled tuxedo three sizes too big. A booming laugh echoed from the heavens, deep, echoing, and sinister. Church bells clanged off-key, like drunk cowbells, and in front of him, a white carpet stretched across a swamp that smelled suspiciously like gym socks.

A wedding.

A cursed, doom-filled wedding.

There, gliding across the aisle like a ghost bride in slow motion, was his mother. Her veil flapped in the wind like a terrified chicken, and her eyes were glazed with an unnaturally wide smile. Her bouquet burst into pigeons and one of them pooped on his shoe.

Julian gasped. “No. No. NO.”

Standing at the altar was a man with a cube-shaped head, a jawline sharp enough to slice bread, and the oily smirk of a used chariot salesman. Alexander’s father.

Behind him stood Alexander himself, wearing a crown made of hair gel and a suit made of mirrors. He winked.

Julian backed away. “This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare.Ahhhhhh.”

Alexander’s face suddenly grew. Not metaphorically. Literally. It expanded like a balloon, swallowing the sky. His nose zoomed toward Julian like a torpedo, his grin stretching like warm mozzarella. “You’re my brother now, Jules,” he said in a sing-song voice that echoed across the clouds, warped and syrupy. “Forever and ever and—”

“NOOO!”

Julian woke up with a violent gasp, clutching his sheets like they’d save him from the horror. His heart thundered louder than the dreamstorm. He looked around, disoriented, sweat pouring down his back.

Suddenly his bedroom door burst wide open without warning, as if hurled by a storm and his mother quickly rushed in, her robe streaming behind her like smoke, hair disheveled, eyes wide with alarm.

“Julian! Are you alright?”

Julian pushed himself up on his elbows, wild-eyed. “I had a nightmare. You were—you were in a wedding dress.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“And you were marrying that douchebag’s father. That corporate ghoul. That—ugh!” He flailed his arms, still half in dream-mode, eyes wide and wild. “And then Alexander’s face got huge and he called me brother! His nose tried to attack me, Mom. His nose!”

His mother blinked, her gaze flat. “Julian…”

“It was horrifying! Like something out of a cursed cartoon,” he groaned, collapsing back into the bed, arms flailing dramatically.

She sat at the edge of his bed, her face unreadable for a moment. Then, she shook her head, a small, exasperated smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She couldn't help it. She'd heard it all before. The endless “nightmares” he’d had ever since she'd told him she was getting married. Julian had practically gone into full-blown protest mode, spinning wild theories about how it was all wrong, as if she was about to marry the villain from some over-the-top romance novel. None of his reasons, of course, made any sense. “He's a corporate ghoul!” he'd shouted, as if that was a legitimate red flag.

She bit back a laugh. Really, Julian? She sighed, crossing her arms with a knowing look. “You know, you really ought to get a hobby. Like chess. Or knitting. Something to distract you from all these ‘nightmares’ about weaponized noses.”

Julian shot her a glare, dramatic as ever. “It’s not just a nightmare, Mom. It’s a warning. Alexander’s father is evil! And I’m sure I’m right about this. You saw how he looked the other night at dinner—slicked-back hair, shark smile, like he was about to sell us a pyramid scheme with a side of trauma!"

She raised an eyebrow. “let me guess, that screams corporate ghoul?”

“Yes! He oozes bad vibes! And don’t get me started on Alexander. He calls me 'brother' like we’re some kind of family now. The wedding hasn't even happened yet. The nerve! He acts like he’s better than everyone—Mr. Top-of-the-Class, MVP of every sport, probably cured a disease last week just for extra credit. He’s got that annoyingly perfect smile, like he knows he’s the golden boy. Even his handwriting is flawless, Mom. Who writes in cursive during exams? It’s creepy. He probably jogs in his sleep and wakes up with his hair already styled. I hate how teachers worship him, how he never even tries but still wins everything—and I especially hate how he walks into a room like he owns the air we breathe!"

His mother,calmly watched the explosion unfold with the serenity of a woman who had seen one too many tantrums to flinch.

“You know,” she said, placing her hand gently on his knee, “you sound like a bitter, jealous ex right now.”

“I am not jealous!” he shouted, voice cracking with a level of indignation usually reserved for soap opera finales. “I’m just aware of the facts! And the fact is, Alexander is a smug, perfectly sculpted robot with an annoying laugh and Olympic-level chewing skills! And if he’s like that, then his father must be just as unbearable. Oh what's that saying. The apple doesn't fall too far from it's tree. The bottom line is we’re not family. I don’t care if he’s your ‘beloved fiancé’ or whatever—he’s terrible, and his son is too!”

His mother shook her head, a small smile pulling at her lips despite herself. “Julian, you’re overreacting and making all this up because you don’t like Alexander. Maybe you’ll change your mind when you get to know him better.”

“Nope!” Julian waved his hands, looking determined. “If I don’t like Alexander, then I don’t like his dad either. Simple as that. They're cut from the same evil cloth. Trust me, Mom, there’s something wrong with him.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You can't judge someone just because you don’t like their kid.”

“Watch me,” Julian muttered under his breath.

She sighed, standing up. “Look, you’re being stubborn, but you have to at least give Tom a chance. He’s not a villain from one of your ridiculous dreams. He is a really good guy.”

Julian flopped back dramatically on the bed, throwing his arm over his forehead. “Fine. But if he tries to recruit me for a corporate evil empire, I’m blaming you.”

His mother rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the fond smile. “You need some rest. We have a big day ahead of us. You know, my wedding?”

Julian let out a long, exaggerated groan. “Right, the wedding... and my impending doom.”

She chuckled softly. “Go to sleep, Julian. You’ll need the energy. And no more nightmares. We don’t need to add ‘sleeping son’ to the list of wedding mishaps.”

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