Unmasked ≫ J.G

XXIII. Admitting

I walked inside the familiar restaurant and immediately began my search. My eyes roamed the beautiful dining area, looking for Brandon.

"Can I help you?" A waitress asked, a friendly smile on her face.

I nodded, "Yeah, is Brandon Owens working today?" I asked, biting my lip.

She nodded, "Yes he is."

"Can I speak with him? It's really important." I inquired, emphasizing really.

She looked at me in a confused matter before nodding her head slowly, "Uh yeah, wait here."

She pushed through doors behind the desk which looked like it led to a kitchen. I bounced my leg on the ball of my foot anxiously, crossing my arms over my stomach.

Moments later, Brandon appeared from the same doors, "Brielle? What..are you doing here? Didn't think I'd see you anytime soon." He furrowed his eyebrows as he walked closer to me, drying his hands.

"I need you to do me a favor." I said.

Brandon nodded slowly, "Okay?"

"I need you to tell your sister to meet me at this address," I pulled out a card from my front pocket, "at 3pm tomorrow." I explained.

He looked down at the card then glanced up at me, "For what?"

"She wants revenge because she thinks I cheated the pageant, right? Well I have evidence that I didn't." I explained.

"Evidence?" He questioned, sounding like he wasn't convinced.

I nodded, "Yeah, just tell her to be there and be on time."

Brandon nodded, raising his hands up and shrugging his shoulder, "Alright."

I nodded and took a step backwards. I went to say something but stopped myself, staring at him confusingly. I internally shrugged and decided to ask anyway.

"You..and Mikaela don't really look a like. Besides the eyes.." I noted.

Brandon chuckled, "She's my stepsister." He explained.

"Ah," I nodded, "Makes sense. How do you deal with her?" I scrunched up my face in disgust.

"She wasn't all that bad. A little bit on the crazy side but we used to be close. Until last year, after the pageant."

I quietly took in a sharp breath, "I'm sorry." I apologized, feeling slightly guilty.

He waved his hand dismissively, "No, it's not your fault. It's no ones fault, she just takes things like that too seriously." He shrugged.

"Really? I had no idea." I said sarcastically with a grin.

Brandon laughed and looked down, putting his hands in his front pockets, "Y'know, you're not half as bad as Mikaela brought you up to be."

"Well, your sister-"

"Step-sister." He corrected.

I held up my hands, "My bad, your step-sister." Emphasized it, "has hated me ever since that day. Just never thought it'd get this far and why now?"

"I wondered the same thing but hey, who knows what goes through her head on a daily basis." Brandon chuckled.

I laughed, "It's probably images of her hurting me." I sighed.

"Brandon! You gotta get back to work." A middle-aged man with dark hair and blue eyes, I'm guessing his father, called from the door.

Brandon sighed and nodded, "I gotta go but uh," he held up the card, "I'll give this to Mikaela."