||NIGEL||

My life, is on fucking repeat.

I woke up to hearing my parents smothering that airhead, sat to an unwelcome breakfast, went to school and then skipped out on dinner again so I didn't have to hear them battering said airhead with pukeworthy love.

Like, I get the only star of your sons is so perfect but you just have to make a big deal out of it, huh?! Have some more peanut butter for your sandwich. We should see the new movie for your birthday. Let me stop by to cheer your damn play.

Fucking little things that freaking mattered.

How convenient that they'd forgotten we were twins born on the same day. Or that just a little streets from the park where they'd gone to see the damn airhead perform, I actually had a little performance of my own that meant a lot to me.

Fucking hell! I flung my diary to who knew where. The fuck was I doing venting out all of those shit again, anyway? It didn't really matter to me. No, I didn't care one bit about it anymore.

And that was that.

"Niki?" A certain airhead was soon pushing open my door after a few soft knocks I didn't deign to acknowledge, a tray of food balanced easily in his left hand. His face morphed into confusion on glancing from my frustrated-into-angry-tears expression to the leather bound diary that now lay at his feet. "What's going on?" It did not help that he'd simultaneously stooped to retrieve the diary with his free hand.

That had me shooting out of my bed like an arrow and snatching back my privacy. "Didn't I freaking tell you to stay out of my room?" I stomped back to align the book on my dresser.

"Yeah, sorry about that," He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other before advancing in and coming to stand at the end of the desk, just a few ways across from me. "You've not been coming downstairs for dinner."

Don't I know that? "So?"

"So, I brought you your favorite," He said with a soft smile, nudging the tray onto my desk.

I glanced to the tray, not hiding my disappointment at what lay in store for my vision.

"What's wrong?" My airhead of a twin looked rather uncomfortable staring between my ugly expression and the equally ugly portion of food. "Would you rather have something else?"

"How do you know that's my favorite?" I pursed my lips, eyes brimming with dissatisfaction.

"Haven't you always liked that since small?" He asked with furrowed brows, obviously confused out by how strange I was acting. But, of course. I had never bothered stripping pretenses with us until now, just simmering down my annoyance and holding him at arm's length instead.

"You're the one who's always liked kale," I snorted. "Get that shit out of my room."

He stood unmoving until I shoved the tray that disparred with my taste into his arms impatiently and he stumbled back a step or two. "What then?" He suddenly asked.

I elevated a brow, not following his train of thought. It's not like we had that twin telepathy shit.

"Your favorite food, Niki," He emphasized, making my eye twitch at the nickname. "What is it? I'll make it for you to stop being in the wrong."

My mind was on a totally different thing.

"I fucking told you to stop calling me that," I growled low, tone furious.

"Fine, Nigel," He breathed out. "Just answer my question."

"No, it's none of your damn business," I grunted, walking over to my wardrobe. "Get out of my room."

"I was just trying to do good," His quiet mumbling barely escaped me and when I turned to scowl at him, he cleared his throat and brightened his already sickening face with a smile. "You barely hang around anymore. Whether it's with me or mom and dad."

"Yeah? Nice going, Sherlock," I snorted. "I need to take a bath. I don't want to see you or that when I get out." Not waiting to see his expression, I headed to my bathroom and locked myself in, placing clenched fists over my eyes to try and gain some foothold over how disorienting this situation was.

It wasn't like I was faulting him for not knowing my favorite food. He wasn't freaking psychic. Hell, I couldn't even be bothered to keep track of what he favored. But at least know the deep seated abhorrence I held towards kale. I, for one, knew he couldn't tolerate freaking caviar.

Some brother he was, really.

~

I was relieved to see that he'd smartly left with the tray that had held that monstrosity. Well, he'd replaced it with a plate of waffles. That, I could certainly gobble up.

Cheering up, I ran the towel sharply through my wavy locks before going to perch in front of my desk. First and foremost, I wolfed down three large waffles doused in syrup before opening my journal to continue penning where I had left off.

My lip curled up involuntarily on seeing where I had left off. Mid rant against how unfair it was that I couldn't feel as loved as my twin, apparently. I just skipped a line since I hated tearing the journal and tried to think of more calming things to write.

It wasn't like my situation was going to get better anyway. Hoping that my parents could view me in even an atom of light as they viewed him was a little bit more of wishful thinking than anything else.

I wasn't about to belong. And that was that.

Things to write, things to write. Things that would calm me down...

Oh.

I inadvertently felt my face flush somewhere between beet and crimson at the face that popped up in my mind's eye.

Hayley Cruz.

Prettiest girl in our form and my crush since way before junior high, when she transferred. Also way out of my league. But once, I had actually mustered up the courage to confess my feelings.

Yeah, I gave up.

Mainly because I had also seen her rejecting Matthias, infamous hotshot at our school. Not to be inferior or anything but I didn't think I stood a chance if even Matthias was rejected. Reason being he was an even more logical choice than I was.

Besides, all my past affections just seemed to turn a complete 180° on coming in contact with my "all-rounded" brother.

No, don't think of that airhead. Don't think of him.

It also didn't help that my best friend, Alfie, seemed to think I didn't stand a chance with her either. He was an idiot through and through though so I had decided to consult the opinion of the last party in our little trio.

Aries.

He'd told me not to push my luck, in his same blunt monotone. I had never wanted to kill a bitch as much on that particular day. Anyway, I let it rest for a while, my crush festering until I just couldn't bear it any longer and needed an outlet to release my pent up emotions.

In that second, I made up my mind.

I was going to confess to Hayley.

Let's look on the bright side of all this. Even if I got rejected, that would just give me the much needed time to get over the feelings I had for her.

A win-win situation. Right?

Pursing my lips, I closed up my stuff before waddling over to my bed and wrapping myself up in my blanket like a burrito. Besides, not to be narcissistic or even self-conceited, but have you even seen me?

I was so damn handsome and fucking rich. I was such a great catch. Just who wouldn't want to be my other half, huh?

I wasn't aware a goofy smile had found it's way onto my face until my door burst open and airhead 1.0 was tumbling in, a sheepish smile on his face that had my own smile turning upside down.

"Uh," He cleared his throat awkwardly, hands holding a stack of papers and ballpoint dropping languidly to his side. "Do you have a minute, Nigel?"

"No," I scowled, patience wearing thin without any warning or precedent.

"Please?" He surveyed the room nervously from where he was standing outside the threshold. "I kind of need your help."

Annoyed that I'd have to leave the comfort of my wrappings, I stomped over and slammed the door in his face, catching a glimpse of the hurt look in his eyes right before the door shut with a thud.

Whatever. That didn't affect me. I didn't care if my actions hurt him. Why should I, when they never thought how their own actions did the same to me?

I kept chanting that in my head but why did I feel so fucking sick to my stomach?

Fucken conscience.