Chained

Chapter 2

Kelly

I stayed up all night, dreading the day I finally get out of my cage and face my fear of meeting new people that I couldn't sleep a wink. When I got up, I could already feel my dark circles plaguing my under eyes get even darker. But that's nothing a little concealer can't fix. Plus, I've got more pressing matters to worry about, like how the hell am I going to survive this day? Sighing loudly, I went to take a quick shower, noticing the not so subtle ways of how my arms and legs jiggle with excess fat as I scrub my body.

When will I ever lose a few more pounds? I've been struggling with trying to lose weight for the longest time, but nothing helps. I've been exercising daily, obsessing over my calorie intake, watching what I eat like a crazed woman and even went on a hunger strike for a few days until I passed out from starvation once that my parents had to force me to eat to get my appetite and eating schedule back on track. I'm starting to lose hope now...maybe I'll be stuck being ugly forever.

I stared at mirror and flinched at how unattractive I look. Barely an inch of skin was visible as I was dressed in black sweaters and leggings—well, that's been the only outfit I've worn for the past few years to hide my actual body. But I can still see fat, so much fat. I closed my eyes, ridding myself of the hideous reflection staring back at me and took a deep breath. I can do this. I've been doing this my whole life, and this is nothing different. Finally calmed down, I quickly went outside my room. I almost forgot I had to spend long, torturous minutes with Bryan until I got down the stairs and saw him eating breakfast.

"Fuck," I muttered quietly under my breath, making sure he hadn't heard me.

He only glanced quickly at me to acknowledge me and didn't say anything as I dropped my backpack on the couch and sat on it. I had planned to grab some snacks at school with the allowance Aunt Susan gave me yesterday because I definitely don't want to spend time with that 6''2', ripped cousin of mine, who looks like he wants to shoot my head off.

"Come eat. The canteen doesn't sell food early in the morning, and you won't get to eat anything until lunch break," his voice boomed through the quiet living room. I almost forgot to mention that the Lee house is huge, and every furniture here looks expensive as hell. Apparently, their family is some old Asian money in the oil industry, and their dad is making banks after their grandparents left their business to him.

Oh wait, MY grandparents. On my flight to California after Aunt Susan came to my parents' house the other day, she explained everything to me. How my grandparents were Cambodian immigrants to the states about decades ago, how my mom actually isn't an orphan like what she told me—surprise, surprise—and has an older brother, how my mom's family is one of the richest families in the oil industry, how my grandparents disowned her for not marrying the eligible bachelor they picked for her and eloped with my dad instead; you know, the usual. Except it fucking isn't.

I had to sit through the entire flight, processing all this new information. It felt like my whole life was a lie all along, and I felt betrayed by my parents, who are the only people I trust the most in my life. I almost felt mad at them for lying to me for so long; I deserved to know who my real family are—who exactly I am. But on the other hand, I also understood why they kept the truth from me. I mean, my mom's family cut all ties with her already, so they might as well be dead to her. What's the point of telling me of the family who doesn't want us?

I sighed, not really wanting to think about this any longer. I took a seat in front of Bryan and put some pancakes on my plate. Mmmm, this smells delicious. Aunt Susan makes the best—

Wait a minute. If I recall correctly, she's still in her room, sleeping. You know, the thing about rich people with millions loaded in their bank account, is that they don't have to force themselves to wake up in the crack of dawn and work to support their family. Well, I'm sure she does do some work, just not the kind my parents would do. Not that I'm entitled to complain since I'm practically living under their roof rent-free. And I'm not complaining. Just noting that Aunt Susan wakes up a lot longer than I would. 

So, who cook these then? Surely, it couldn't be my wonderful cousin in front of me? I've never seen him do anything else in the kitchen besides when he hauls the fridge open, rummaging for whatever food his male body needs to grow, much less touch the kitchen utensils to cook. He doesn't help with the dishes either, and even Kieran helped out. When I first saw the house from the driveway, I imagined the family having those butlers and maids that I see often in rich people's mansions from TV shows I've watched. Apparently, the boys are very private with their lives and don't want strangers living in their house, so they opted for maid service once a week rather than a live-in maid. Which I totally understand as I'm quite a private person myself as well.

"Did you make these pancakes?" I blurted out without thinking. 

Bryan looked at me as if I'd struck him across the face. I didn't know he had it in him to feel offended.

"Obviously. Who did then?" he replied matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows.

Okay, shithead. If I knew that, I wouldn't be asking you in the first place. Why do people have to go out of their way to make you seem like such a dumb person for asking a simple question? Can't they just answer you politely like a decent human being? And why am I so offended by it? I should be used to his attitude by now, but sometimes, I just get butthurt over silly things. And this is one of those things. 

We ate our breakfast in silence, pretending that the other doesn't exist. He finished before me and got up to put his dirty plates in the sink. I felt compelled to get up as well although there was still some syrup left on my plate, and I'd like to finish it all with one more pancake. I don't like wasting food even if it's a few droplets of syrup. But I don't want Bryan to wait for me and give him a reason to verbally attack me. Not really, but I'm dramatic.

I started to turn on the sink water to do the dishes. My mom would turn in her grave if she knew that I didn't at least wash the dishes after someone has given you food for free. "It's common decency, and no daughter of mine will be looked down on for being disrespectful," she used to say. I miss her. A lot. I've been trying to not think about either of my parents for the past few days because I know that once I do, I'll break down again. And I can't afford to do that. They would want me to be happy and move on with my life because moping around, grieving for your dead parents isn't going to bring them back to life. It's reassuring to know that they're somewhere above, watching me, so I'll be happy for them. Only for them. 

I began lathering soap on the sponge when Bryan's voice stopped me.

"Leave it. Myra will be here soon," he said, crouching down to tie his shoe laces. 

"Who's Myra?" I asked.

"The maid. She comes in every Monday 8AM."

"Oh." So that's her name. "This won't take long though. Just give me a minute."

He stood up to his full height, staring at me from the doorway. "Kelly, if you don't get your ass out right now, you're walking to school."

Keep your cool, Kelly. Remember, it's his house you're living under.

Actually, it's his parents', my other inner voice said. 

Whatever.

I dropped the plates, picked up my backpack and walked to the front door, bumping him on the way. Can't say it was unintentional though.