Breach

Chapter Five

Marko...

Marko....

Ma...

Margo...

Snap out of it, Margo.

"Gurl, you got to snap out of it!"

"Wha..what?"

"Jesus, this is one of the few occasions we could get together and you are sleeping on me? You are even calling your boyfriend when you sleep. Geez, is my brother really that charming to you? I think it's gross."

Margo quickly wiped the drool from her chin with her sleeves. It was practically windy today yet that doesn't stop Malory from pulling Margo out of her apartment.

Malory is three months younger than Margo but they could be mistaken as twins. They both have the same creamy blonde hair but Malory is more dirty blonde like her brother's. They have the same taste in music and food and both are journalist majors. In college, no one could separate the two. Both have their last name starting with an 'S' and they are practically lab partners and so as writing partners. What really distinguishes one from the other is that Malory's eyes are blue like her brother's. But not as crystalline as Marko's, Margo would think. And Margo's would be ashen gray like a storm brewing. That is how every time she entered their dorm room back in the university on a bad day, Malory would always say, "Oh boy, a storm's brewing".

Still, there is one thing that Margo couldn't forgive.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you had a brother?" Margo said when she went to the Sandersons residence to meet Marko's grandparents. The Sandersons were actually their godparents but took the two in when their parents died when their cruise ship sank when Malory was eight.

"Actually, this is the reason why I didn't tell you. I didn't want you going all 'OMG your brother is totally hot' on me. That happened like for the last eighteen girls I've shown Mark's picture to. I don't want my best friend talking lovey-dovey about my brother. It's weird." but then Malory smiled, "But I cannot stop destiny. It's already written."

They haven't just been best friends. They have been sisters. Whenever Marko becomes a total jerk, Malory sides with Margo. And the relationship grew healthier by the month. Both for Marko and Malory.

"Tell me again why you are looking like a ragged doll? Or maybe even a lost soul?" Malory sipped a little of her Chamomile tea. It has always been sweet Chamomile. "Helps me relax and remember my first novel," Malory always said.

"It's been a week since I quitted my job and none is actually going according to plan." Margo slumped back on the marble table.

In Malory's kitchen apartment, everything seemed to be designed by an elite interior designer with a taste for cream, apple green and faint yellow.
The yellow marble countertop felt cool to Margo's cheek and soothed the headache that started to stir in her brain.

"Why'd you quit in the first place?"

"Did you expect me to serve black coffee for the rest of my life?"

"Excuse you for serving black coffee with pay everyday for the rest of your life. If I didn't have to review every single Dystopian novel my company throws at me, and let me serve them coffee and get paid, sign me up."

"You're lucky you get to read and critic and get paid. I just thought that my capabilities are being wasted by making coffee."

"Judge a woman's likelihood of being a wife by her blend of coffee."

"Who said that?"

"No one in particular. It just came to thought. Hey! Maybe I could write a blog about that."

Always about the blog. Malory isn't just the critic. She is the critic. Every newbie writer passes through her. If you don't have the genius of John Green, the fabulous concept thinking capacity of Marissa Meyer, or the tasteful and humorous  style of Rick Riordan, look for another publishing company.

But Margo always reminded her to be gentle with newbie writers, and somehow, Malory had been laid back. She made three new YA literature authors famous by merely giving them a four star review on Goodreads.

"Hey Mal? Have you ever thought that, everything we do is already planned out? Like we are in some sort of simulation and like we are being watched whatever our reaction to the situation is."

"It's already written." Margo replied coolly.

"Mal, I'm not talking about destiny here." Both girls straightened themselves. Margo held her breath for like a few seconds which she felt like a whole minute.

"No. But you could ready write a short story about that. It's a brilliant concept. But I can't help recalling James Dashner on that one. He does alot on simulations and emotional whatnots."

"I guess I need a new edge. A new angle." Margo sighed audibly. She brushed her hand over her face and suddenly felt so fragile and weak.

"Tell you what, we need to go somewhere."

"Go where?"

Malory looked at her like she'd turn invisible all of a sudden.

"What?"

"You know where I am referring to. We have been going there every time I said 'we need to go somewhere'."

"The Stadium?"

Malory grinned.

[to be continued]