The Brother

Chapter 6

I woke up at 6:30 by mistake. It always happens on Saturdays when I forget to turn my alarm off. I groaned and texted Marcel I'm coming over. I don't care if Harry tells me not to. I got dressed in a Black Veil Brides t-shirt from Hot Topic and converse, then drove to Marcel's house. He only told me his address once when he forgot his phone at his house. Luckily, I remembered every street and turn. I knocked on the door when a tall blonde girl opened it. "Hey, are you Harry's friend?" she asked. "No," why is she asking about Harry when this is Marcel's house? I walked in and closed the door behind me. I guess she was leaving somewhere. "Marc-" I was interrupted by a middle aged woman sitting on the couch reading a recipe book written by Paula Deen. "Oh, hi, dear. Are you here for Harry, Gemma, or Marcel?" she asked. Why is everyone asking about Harry? "Marcel," I answered. "Oh, why he never gets visitors! Welcome to our home, honey! I'm Anne, Marcel's mum." she said, showing off a British accent. "Hi, I'm Bailey Winston." I smiled politely. "Well I bet you are looking for Marcel. He's upstairs third door to the left, or fourth door to the right." she smiled and kept reading. I nodded and walked to the first option. I knocked and listened for a voice. "What?" someone snapped. Was that Harry? "Nothing, dear," I mimicked Anne. I felt very disrespectful, but at moments like this, I feel grateful I have a gift of voice matching. "Well then leave." he hissed. I walked off to the second option. I knocked on the door and heard the beautiful music stop. "Yes?" Marcel's voice asked. "Marcel, um, hi?" I spoke quietly. He opened the door, shirtless and hair messed up in messy curls. He looked like Harry. "Hey. Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?" he whispered fastly. "Well, I don't know. I just.. came," it sounds so stupid out loud. "Well you have to go," he urged. I stared at him, puzzled. "Okay fine, you can stay. But stay in this room, okay?" he asked. I nodded. He brought me in and locked the door. "Wow. I didn't know you play," I looked at the piano, guitars, drums, and microphone. "Yeah, the school bands suck." He laughed, trying to stick his hair to the side as usual. "Sorry for the whole... outfit disaster," he laughed nervously. "No problem," I laughed with him. He sat at the piano and played Fur Elise. "Wow, you are talented," I said in awe. "Thanks, it's nothing, really," he chuckled. "It is! You could be famous." I nudged him. "Yeah, I don't know. Do you play?" he asked, still playing the piano piece. "Yeah, I play electric guitar," I said, looking around the room. "Cool," he answered. "You sing?" I asked. Marcel blushed. "Yeah, do you?" he asked me. "A bit. What type of music do you sing?" I asked him. "Mmm... any kind, really. What about you?" he asked me. I chuckled. "I sing rock. Like, metal rock." I answered. Marcel blinked. "Wow. You can scream?" he asked. I laughed. "Yeah." Soon, we both laughed at my taste. "I feel like we just met!" I laughed. "I know right? We've known each other for years, too." he giggled. "Yeah," I smiled. "Do you have any plans later?" he asked. I shook my head. "There's a music museum in Hollywood. Do you want to go with me?" He asked. I nodded. "Sure. What time?" I asked him. "Lets do four?" he asked me. I nodded. "Okay." I smiled. I picked up a guitar and began playing, grateful it was already plugged into the amp. I played the intro to Knives and Pens. "Wow, you should be famous" he teased. I laughed. "No, I think I'm okay," I giggled. Marcel ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "So, I didn't notice you write on yourself with Sharpie." I joked. Marcel laughed. "Yeah, mum didn't let me get a journal, so I got a tattoo instead." he explained. I smiled.