Devil in disguise (Dallas Winston fan-fic)

King of dreams

What if your family had to move from your country to US? Ugh, I wouldn't have ever believed it if anyone had warned me before. But there I was, unpacking my things and getting used to the one which was meant to be our new home. I thought I was gonna die right there. All my friends were there and the streets I knew and all my memories.

I promised myself I wasn't going to cry or show any symptom of weakness for the good of the family, as my younger brother had been complaining all the time about how he was now going to see his friends. Yeah, the phone bill would rise and rise without an end if we both decided to call our old buddies to tell them the news. Not bad or good. Just news. Well, maybe they were a little worse than normal.

My parents didn't speak English. My father could manage with the few words he had learned, but my mother didn't understand a shit. As simple as that.Me and my brother were the ones who were usually asked to be the translators. We wanted to practise to get used to be all the time talking in English, so we spent most of the time using it between us. Our parents looked at us as if we were using a secret language. It was quite cool they couldn't follow our conversations.

My brother was there in the bedroom with me. We would have to share it. We had never shared a room before, so it was understandable we felt a bit excited about all the nights we would be talking and talking instead of sleeping or dying out of boredom. He had always been a bit square, being the best in Math at school, and was now putting his stuff around the room. I assumed I had to learn to live with the new reality and started hanging my many posters on my side of the wall. I loved Marlon Brando and his movie The Wild One, therefore I had almost four posters of it. And I have said 'almost' because half of the last one was missing. It broke during an accident when pulling it off the wall and now Marlon rode half of his Matchless motorcycle.

"Why do you still like that? The movie has nothing but a couple of funny scenes and many guys riding around town dressed up in leather," my brother complained once again.

"I like boys in leather, if that's a serious sin," I answered, smirking at him.

He always tried to tease me talking about the things I liked and how they were wrong in some way. At times I thought he was only born to highlight every mistake I made, but thankfully I knew how to answer to his many taunts. I may not be a good intelligent student like him, but I was street smart enough to get through life.

His name was Daniel and we all called him Dani. I think it's the same as Danny. He had short brunette hair and brown eyes. He was thirteen years old and was four inches shorter than me, usually wearing jeans, navy blue Converse, a T-shirt and an unbuttoned flannel. He was handsome for being my brother but still young to date, yet more mature than I could seem.

After I hung the posters on my wall, I crawled on the bed and stood up, bouncing a little before I made up my mind and finally jumped. My brother looked up at me with a funny grin.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, knitting his brow.

I smiled wide. "Hey, I just wanna have some fun before I discover this place is a shit, man. Let me be myself. That's something that won't ever change," I replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, at least you're not lying now like you always do," he said.

"I don't lie that much, smartass."

"Yes, you do. When you laugh while you're telling something I know you're lying."

"Man, I always laugh at almost all the things. Live life!" I sat down on the bed, cuffed up my jeans and put on my black boots and my jean jacket. I liked to put pins and patches on it. I looked pretty tough. Then I stood up and headed to the door. "Hey, I'm gonna walk around town. I'll go have a drink and explore, right? You tell ma and the old man, boy?"