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❝𝙵𝚊𝚛 𝙲𝚛𝚢 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝙼𝚎𝚗❞
𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒔 = 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 【＊＊＊】
For as long as Angel Reyes could remember, all he ever wanted as a boy was to be was a good son.
He wanted to grow up to be the type of son who, even after moving out and starting his own life, would come over once a week and cook a meal for his parents. A recipe that his mother would've taught him, and he would pray he had done it justice when he served it to her. Or perhaps lighting up the barbecue with his old man and sipping beers as they cooked the meat and talked about their busy week of work and wives.
The type of son who could ace all of his classes and bring home certificates each week to prove just how talented a student he was. Each award of achievement being stuck onto the fridge with a magnet underneath last week's one. Who's parents would praise him and tell him how just how proud they were of him.
That whole ideology shifted when Ezekiel was born.
Don't get him wrong, Angel loved Ezekiel. Ezekiel was quite possibly the thing he cared for most in the world, alongside his mother of course. Angel Reyes would die for Ezekiel Reyes.
But that didn't stop the feverous jealousy that overtook him every time he saw how much his parents lit up at each of Ezekiel's accomplishments.
For the first few years of Ezekiel's life, Angel always tried to best him - to prove to his parents that he was just as good as his younger brother.
But, to them, Ezekiel just somehow always shone brighter than Angel, leaving the older brother in the younger's dimly lit shadows.
And, one day, when Angel realised he could never beat the competition for their parents' attention, he figured he could seek it out in other ways.
His own dark shadow could cloud over Ezekiel's shining star.
Like the time when he'd gotten into a fight with Tommy Lopez in the playground after the spelling bee that Ezekiel had just won.
Or the time when he broke the kitchen window with the football when Ezekiel lost his first tooth.
Or the time when he set alight all of Ezekiel's award certificates on the barbecue when he'd come home with yet another one, it replacing Angel's drawing of him and his mother together on the fridge, his drawing being put in a drawer where it would no doubt never see the light of day again. His dreams of living alongside his brother equally going up in smoke and turning to ash like the very accolades he watched singe away.
