Fragile Hearts | RAFE CAMERON

Eight | B R O T H E R

I pulled up to the parking lot of the country club, ready for my second day. The manager called me over with the wave of her hand, "You'll be working the food bar today, the bartender called out hopefully you're good with drinks."

"I can manage." I shrug. My shift went smoothly until lunch hour came. The bar was filled with people and I was maneuvering back and forth the bar to the tables.

The lunch rush was just starting to die down when I saw two figures enter the dining room. Rafe and Topper. They walked in with their perfectly tanned skin, their preppy clothes, and their easy smiles.

I went over to their table to take their order, with my pen in one hand and my notepad in the other.

"Hey Scarlett," Rafe said, his voice smooth and drawling. He slipped into the booth at the end of the bar, followed by Topper.

"What can I get for you guys?" I asked, trying to sound professional.

"Just a water," Topper said, his eyes still glued on the menu.

"I'll have a tequila sunrise," Rafe said, his eyes lingering on me. He pulled out his ID and slid it across the table.

"Rafe, you're nineteen," I said, surprised. He wasn't supposed to be drinking here.

He chuckled, "But my ID says I'm twenty-one, yours does too, doesn't it Scarlett?" He smirked.

He was right. I also had a fake ID that said I was twenty-one when in actuality I was eighteen so it would be ironic to not serve him.

"Alright, I'll bring that right out to you guys," I said, putting on a fake smile.

I made the tequila sunrise, careful to make it strong enough to satisfy Rafe's appetite and poured Topper a glass of water.

I walked over to their table and placed the drinks down. "Here you go, guys."

"Thanks, Scarlett," Rafe said.

"You bet," I replied, turning away quickly. I felt their eyes on me, their gaze burning into my back.

Then, he appeared.

A tall brunette with worn out clothes stood before me, a familiar yet foreign face. "Sc- Scarlettt? Scarlett Limbrey?" His voice was hesitant, a touch of uncertainty in his tone.

I turned, my brow furrowed. "And who are you?"

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "My name's John... John B."

I extended my hand for him to shake, a silent challenge in the gesture. "How'd you know my full name?"

His mouth hung open, speechless for a moment. Then, he blurted, "I'm your brother, I think."

I scoffed, my gaze sweeping over to a group of his friends standing nearby, Pogues. "Is this some sick joke? My brother's dead."

He quickly shook his head, his eyes pleading. "I'm sorry for your loss, but I really am your brother." He pulled a paper from his pocket, holding it out to me. "This is your birth certificate."

I snatched it from him, my fingers trembling as I scanned the document. It was real, undeniable. "How did you get this?"

"My dad's office," he explained. "Our dad's name is also John. I think we were separated as kids." He stepped closer, "I know it sounds crazy, and I want answers just as much as you do. Which is why I'm trying to find my dad."

The words hung in the air, "Find him? Where did he go?"

He dropped his gaze, a shadow of sadness crossing his features. "He's been missing for a year now. People say he's dead, but I have a feeling he's still out there. My friends have been helping me." He gestured towards the group of teenagers, their expressions mirroring his own mix of hope and despair.