It all started with a game

Chapter 21.1

It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.
~Fredrich Nietzsche

A/n
Shoutout to @favylove44 who is from Nigeria, so happy you are reading this book :)

What country are you guys all from?

Chapter 21.1
Beatrice's POV
I zipped up the black dress that I'd worn for dinner with Ryder's mother, the only classy dress that I owned.

Ryder had gone home about two hours ago to get ready, leaving me and my brothers to fend for ourselves. Sonny had forgiven me, for the most part. He decided that dinner with our mother and her new boyfriend was bad enough as is and that we wouldn't make it if the two of us weren't on good terms. Klaus was the one who brought up the point and acted as mediator for the two of us. He is probably the only reason Sonny is speaking to me right now.

I made my way over to Klaus's room, where both of my brothers were already standing. The two of them gave me a look as if to say 'I can't believe we're doing this'. Agreed. I grabbed Sonny's tie first, quickly tying it for him and then repeating the same with Klaus's, mumbling the little rabbit rhyme I'd learned as a child the first time Klaus needed someone to tie one for him.

Klaus grabbed the makeup case from under his bed while I straightened out Sonny's plain black suit. I know he hated it, it wasn't his style in the slightest, but my mother insisted on it. She ransacked all of our closets and picked out our outfits herself, leaving us no choice. Unfortunately, out of every Sonny designer sitting in his closet, she picked the one that he hadn't made himself and absolutely despised. He'd worn it for our dad's ridiculous memorial at the police station.

I let Klaus do my makeup, making sure he covered the scars that weren't concealed by the dress. Klaus already knew the drill though and needed no input from me. "Done," he stated as he finished the last of my lipstick.

I stared at the mirror, the person back nearly unrecognizable. Klaus really was a master with a makeup brush, that's for sure, not that he'd admit that to anyone else but us.

Klaus tucked in his shirt. He was originally supposed to wear his suit, matching Sonny's in origin, but it did not fit him remotely. He couldn't even get the thing on and the jacket ripped the second he moved. Mother opted out for a 'better' option: one of my fathers old button ups and a pair of his dress pants. Sonny and I shared a look, thinking exactly the same thing; he looked just like our father. Klaus knew it was well, and the tiny fact was eating at him from the inside, practically a noose around his neck.

Klaus took one look in the mirror, his eyes glazing over, his features set in stone.

"Here." I grabbed the bottle of Sonny's hair gel from the nightstand, squeezing a bit into my hand and running it through Klaus's hair, which had never been touched by hair gel in its life. "See, you look nothing like him. Right, Sonny?"

Sonny nodded, a sad smile resting on his lips.

Klaus had always looked the most like dad, even when he was little and especially after Sonny bleached his hair. Sonny never admitted it but we all knew he did it to get rid of the one part of himself that reminded him of our father. Klaus didn't have that option, unless he planned on going through years of plastic surgery, which I'm sure he's debated a few times.

But it would take years of drug and alcohol abuse for Klaus to be just like him. And Klaus would never do that. There are very few things in life that scare Klaus but ending up like our father is one of them. I can see it in his eyes everytime he gets angry, or lashes out, or gets into a fight. He's terrified of it.