One of Those Nights

III

III.

The sky was the color of Cameron's eyes. The dark shade of blue. I rub my eyes.

Do I have to emphasize Cameron in all things? Stupid.

Not wanting to plant Cameron in my head, I wipe my blanket from my hips and get out of bed.

I leaned my palms on the window's glass and stared at the sky. It really is the shade of Cameron's eyes. And for sure, it's going to rain.

How's that for a Saturday? Perfect. It would be a cuddly weather.

I brushed my teeth and go downstairs.

"Hey sis. I'm sorry about the yogurt, Thursday morning." My bro says, popping strawberries in his mouth.

This is what I love about my brother. We fight, take it seriously and apologize.

I smiled at him.

"Breakfast?" He asks.

Nodding, I moved and hug him from the back.

"I love you Marl." I say, he turns and kisses my nose.

"I love you too mademoiselle."

"Hey! How did you know that french word?" I asks, sitting on the stool beside him.

"Isn't it a popular one?" He grins while pouring me fresh milk. "A friend taught me some European words. Like italian and french"

"I see. Do you think it will rain?"

"Perhaps. Wanna go with me at a friend's house?"

"I'll think about it bro."

"It's his sister's party, I thought you would like to go."

Party.

Marlon leaves the counter first whilst I drink my milk. I decided it won't be so bad to attend that party since it's not a night party.

Hastily, I finish my milk and run upstairs.

"Marlon!" I shout at his door.
"What shall I wear? Do I wear a gown or a bikini or a ..."

I was stopped when he pops his head at the door.

"You coming?" He was grinning.

"Obviously." I rolled my eyes.

"Jeans and shirt will do baby." Then he kissed me on the forehead and whispered Love you Miy before shutting the door close.

Miy. I'm reminded of the night when Cameron called me Miy.

Damn, there I go again.

I twist my doorknob and push the door. I'm reminded of Cameron again.

Coming with Marlon might be a good decision, I won't be suffocating my self with stinky memories that Cameron brought.

But was it really Cameron's fault? My subconscious grimaced at the thought.

Or was it really mine?

How can I blame him when he's drunk? It should have been me who stop.

Perhaps it was really my fault.

I rummage my drawers, pulled the best shirt and my ombré jeans.

After singing in the shower and scrubbing my skin, I get dressed.

I was on time, Marl just got out of his room wearing his favorite mandals; paired with black shirt that criticize his biceps and jeans which he folded at the bottom.

My brother is an example of a damn hot. Idk where I got my genes.

Perhaps - from your parents. My subconscious rolled her eyes at me.

Marl looks like Dad while I got the mixture of both parent. My Mom was a model when she was in her teenage years and that's where she met Dad.

My Dad was a photographer. They were both 21 at the time they met each other. Daddy was still an amateur before he turned 23. He got a help from the agency that Mommy was working.

Now, my brother and I live alone. Our parent died in a car accident. They were on their way back here when the accident happened. They had just gotten from a vacation in Seattle and had their so-called, "yearly honeymoon."

Daddy was a great Dad, and Mom too, she was a great Mommy.

And that's why my brother's life and mine stoop down when they died 2 years ago.

Luckily, last year, when my brother graduated in high school, we were both awakened from the trauma of losing them.

We realized, we still have each other. All we have to do is comfort and protect each other since financial wasn't an issue.

We consider ourselves the luckiest, our parent was smart enough to leave almost a million in our bank account which the lawyer said, it was their savings when they were still boyfriend-girlfriend.

That's when I started wishing for that kind of relationship.

Everyday, we remember the pain and the happiness and the feeling of greatfulness that they were our parents.

They were amazing. That is why Marl and I are trying to spend the money at its best.

Yes, Marl announces a lot of party but he gets it from his allowance or else from an auction he gets involve with.

I can't tell my brother to stop hosting a party. He told me once when I complained, that it's better to host the party than leave me alone in the house and party.

I never complain again. He's my boyfriend, my brother, my father, my mother and my bestfriend when our parent died, I can't take away his happiness.

Partying and soccer.

"Heyyy!"

"Op" I blurted.

"Wake up from your reverie, sis."

"I'm sorry bro. You really look like Dad." I smiled sadly at him, he throws me that I-know-the-feeling-look.

I run at his open arms and squeezed him.

"I love you Miyanda. You're my reminder of both Mom and Dad. And I know they're happy seeing us like this. You're fine right? I did my best to attend you at your needs right?"

I nod. My eyes slowly beginning to water.

I squeezed him tighter.

"I love you too, Marlon. You know you did everything and thank you for that. Thank you for being the best brother."

I kiss his chest and free myself from his arms.

"Let's go?" I smiled with teary-eyed.

He nods, and wipe the tears that soak his cheeks. He was crying, really crying.

"I'm glad you're coming." He muttered and held my hand on the way to his car.