𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋

00:09

•••
CHAPTER 9
Les I'm Misérables

"You look half dead," Noel greeted me when I entered the kitchen the following morning.

After my shopping trip with the twins two days ago, we spent the last day of our summer vacation in their expensive home theatre, binge-watching series and snacking on the worst kinds of junk. Did Nico try and take them away? Naturally. Did I pull the I've-been-kidnapped-for-15-years card? Obviously, and I didn't feel a single bit of remorse.

But now that it's Monday, absolutely miserable unable to walk because of my tummy ache, I feel like I should've listened to Nico.

"I feel it too," I answered truthfully as I joined him and Nico to the table. Comfortably seated in my seat, I pull on my shirt, second-guessing my choice. Truthfully, I waltzed into Neo's room yesterday night absolutely clueless about what girls wear to their schools that are so expensive they call them academies. For hours, we stalked every social platform looking for outfits the girls he knew wore to school. That evening goes into the top 3 creepiest things I've done, but what they don't know can't hurt them.

"At least your sense of fashion is better than the twins'," Nico scoffed as he flipped away on his tablet.

"Rude," Neo hopped in on the conversation, as he came down the stairs skipping a few steps.

"Thinks he's in a rock band," Noel mumbled and I suppressed my laugh.

"That's the look chicks dig." With the confidence of a king, Neo strutted in with his cargo pants and black converses that had skulls on them.

I shook my head, denying his theory, close to hyperventilating from how hard I've been trying to hold back the laughter that was threatening to spill. "If that makes you sleep better at night."

"What are you talking about?" Nye said as he joined us in the kitchen.

"Mocking your twin's style," Noel simply answered, sipping his coffee and enjoying the commotion he's been causing despite being well over the age for this.

"My favorite game," Nye chipped, heading towards the fridge. I watched as he served himself a cold mug of milk, drinking it as he leaned against the counter.

"Does he normally drink milk? Cold milk?" I asked Noel in a whisper. He simply shook his head in a you don't wanna know the answer to that kind of way.

"Fuck off." Neo's voice startled me as I was about to mix my coffee. When I turned around to face him, Nye's own grunts erupted; the twins were fighting.

"I am gonna shoot you in the head," Nye threatened, but they were facing away from me, so I could only guess what they were fighting about.

"Then better aim good, cuz I'm not giving you the last croissant," Neo fought back, pushing against his brother, trying to pull him away from the counter. He seemed way too invested, which only added a layer of ridiculousness to the whole ordeal.

Then the quarrel ended in the blink of an eye. It only took Nolan-who just walked in from the back door- to step in, take away the last piece of the highly sought-after baked good, and hand it to me on a plate. All shouts died down, and the twins resigned to their fate and started to look for other breakfast options.

"Do rich people usually fight about croissants?" I asked, guiltless about stealing the goodie from the twins. I dug in, and it was the sweetest pastry I'd ever tasted. Granted, I hadn't eaten much sweets before, preferring to spend my own money on things that'd actually fill my belly, but I knew, croissants don't get any better than this one.