Break My Heart

Chapter 2. Once An Asshole

Remi's POV

They gave me a room that was already stocked full of clothes that weren't me at all, and this time, I would say something because I chose what I wore and was old enough to do so. He bought me the newest iPhone and a MacBook too. He was genuinely happy to have me back, which made me think I should never have gone with Mom.

A few raps came from my door. 

"Come in," I said loudly.

Dad entered my bedroom. "Hey, finding everything okay?" 

"Yeah," I said. "Um, the clothes aren't really my style. . ." I trailed off awkwardly, feeling guilty for not being some good girl that liked bright colors.

Dad laughed. "My mistake. Your mom always wore clothes like that. I thought you would be a bit more like her. I'll give you money so you can do your own shopping, of course."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"I know things are strange for you. They're going to be for your brother and me too. We haven't had a girl in the house in eleven years, so you're going to have to excuse us. I came to tell you that it's okay if you're not comfortable calling me Dad. It's been years, so I don't expect that. You can call me Lyric if it makes you more comfortable." 

"Oh, well, Dad is fine," I said and shrugged. 

"Okay, good. Your party is in about an hour." Dad started for the door but stopped at the sound of my voice.

"Wait," I started. "Would you tell me what happened with Mom?" 

Dad sighed and turned around.

"Or have you been hiding it from Ryan for the last eleven years too?"

Dad looked offended by the remark. "I don't keep things from your brother, Remi. I'm sorry to hear your mother kept things from you. I'll tell you in time, but I think it's probably a lot to take in. Tonight isn't a good night for it, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed. How could I disagree? At least, he's willing to tell me what happened. It would be nice to have Mom's side, but perhaps that means she feels guilty for something. 

After Dad left my room, I changed my clothes and did my hair and makeup. I wouldn't pretend to be anything I wasn't, and I hoped that people weren't expecting anything from me—the way Mom and Tanner always expected things.

I opened my bedroom door to head downstairs but stopped. An unfamiliar yet familiar guy stood in front of me. It could only be Ryan. His hair and eye color were the same, but a lot had changed—he was bigger and older. He looked at me in the same way that I looked at him. It was a confusing and shocking moment. His fist was still raised in the air, about to knock on the door that I opened. His hair and eyes were the same as mine, blonde and blue, like our mom. However, his facial features matched Dad and mine matched Mom. His build was like Dad, and mine was like Mom. His style resembled my own—one of a troublemaker if you ask my mother. Mom said she was wild in her day too, but she grew up, and my father never did. 

Ryan cleared his throat and took a step back. He wasn't dressed to impress any more than I was. No tux, no weird sweaters, slacks, or fancy shoes. Ryan wore ripped blue jeans and a black hoodie with a pair of Air Jordans. His hair was in disarray, and he had a visible tattoo on his neck and one on his knuckles.

"Hey," I managed.

"Um, I don't know if you remember. . ." he trailed off.

"Ryan," I said awkwardly. "Vaguely. We were little."

"Right," he agreed. "It's good to see you."

"You too," I said.

"Dad wanted me to come up and get you. People are here to see you."