✧ Obsessed™ » kellic au [BOOK ONE]

4. Bratty little brother's aren't welcome here

Pov: Vic.

The groan that discharged from my lips was somewhat overdone, as I heard a knock from the outside of my bedroom door. Couldn't they read the sign? It clearly says, "Do Not Disturb." Especially when I've just had a day like today's. 

I lifted my head from my tear corrupted pillow at the sound of my mother's voice, "Cariño?"

The Spanish word for sweetheart. She's always called me it, along with a lot of other embarrassing nicknames, despite my irritation.

One time, after dropping me off at school, she yelled from the car, at the top of her lungs, "Have a good day, mi pequeño príncipe!" which means, "my little prince". It did nothing more than cause me to stop dead in my tracks, eyes wide and horrified, while a bright blush formed on my face. Unfortunately for me, we were forced to learn Spanish in my school, so all the students had been fully aware of what she had said, meaning I was laughed at. But that was to be expected, just like today, except, today had been so much worse.   

"Vic, cariño, please open the door and come down for dinner. It's Tuesday. Taco night, your favorite."

Before I dragged myself from the bed I absolutely dreaded to leave, I slowly opened my door and was faced with a smiling mother looking up at my saddened expression. She knew I'd had a rough day, she always knew. But instead of bugging me about what happened, she simply brushed her finger across the bottom of my eye, wiping the remaining few tears from my skin. She lead me down the spiral staircase to the dining room, rubbing my back in that comforting way only a mother could hold.

"God, how long have you been up there crying for?" My brother groaned as we'd arrived. Thanks Mike, great to know I have my siblings support. Mama shot a warning glare towards him as we sat down, and papa was oblivious to his surroundings as he was too caught up in crunching on his, I assume, sixth taco. 

Unlike my father, I picked at and played with my food. The mood for eating wasn't in motion at the moment, since I was still clearly upset. My little brother showed no sympathy. But it wasn't his fault, I know he didn't mean to make me feel even shittier than I was already feeling. He was just a stubborn kid who had no idea what it felt like to be in my shoes, because everyone just adored him. He never had any trouble at that prison called school. 

"Seriously Vic, sooner or later you're going to have to start defending yourself. I'm sick of playing the big brother role and sticking up for you all the time, just because you're a pussy doesn't mean I have to-"

"Mike! That's enough." Our mother scolded, but that didn't stop him.

"No, mama, he needs to hear this. Vic, look at me." I didn't look at him. 

"I said look at me." His voice was demanding, so I slowly gave in, raising my gaze up from my food to his serious expression.

"The only reason people treat you like this is because you let them. If you want respect, you have to earn it. If people are laughing at you, you don't sit there and ball your eyes out like a baby. You punch them in the fucking faces!"