Heartthrob of Aclea

Chapter 12 - Still Brian and I

An attempt to avoid countless bodyguards, Mum, and Dad had finally succeeded when we dashed through the secret tunnels while disguising as a commoner. I put on my nerd glasses and a blue varsity jacket meanwhile Brian had a white beanie atop his head and a leather jacket covering his torso. He was forced to wear mine because his stuff, mostly, was recognisable. Not only the Acleans would hungrily circle us to take pictures together and touch us, but also Mum would kill both of us, our bodyguards would lose their shits and Dad would definitely forbid me to see Brian afterwards.

After the incident of me skipping the meeting about Brian's coronation, our security details bugged our cars. We were not a bunch of morons to make ourselves detectable, so we chose to stroll down the pavements that branched to some nearby bars and bistros. Gaslights flickered every pace we took.

Petrichor happily lingered within our lungs. With drips of Aclea downpour racing down our umbrella, we were hugged by the kind of coldness that innocently reached into our bones, making us shiver a little. No stars showed off beside the moon because the sky was busy rolling blankets of cloud that were stained with the colour of wet ash.

It had been aeons since we last hung out. I was glad to be invited tonight. What excited me the most was, we were doing it illegally. We ordered Scotch on the rocks and quickly picked ourselves the most isolated seats as the bartender, with bubbles of doubts orbiting his head, commented on Brian's smile as it looked exactly like their Crown Prince's – who was also Brian.

'Told you, they're going to find out it's you.'

'Not sorry for being more handsome than you.'

'Thank me for designing your outfit of the night. Or else, there's no way we could recognise you if you are grouped with other hideous princes.'

We continued to gulp our drinks and talked about everything. No ringing phones. Just pleasant conversations filling throughout the night. We talked, talked, and talked until Brian mentioned Catherine in his question.

'Aaron, what do you think about Catherine?' She was indeed wonderful. She was pulchritudinous. Sadly, she was hopelessly in love with him.

'Perfect for you. A hardworking girl who respects her parents so much and of course, she's loyal to you.' I replied.

I remembered when she cried on the previous days for the reason of her poor performances – emphasised on days because she didn't do well for not only once. She only accepted Brian's and her female friends' consolation when she needed a person to comfort her. She even rejected a coffee date with me on the other day because Brian was there and...

Dahoy, we knew Catherine never liked me. 

While she was in the relationship with Brian, there were still many patients and students approaching her to ask for her number and whatnots. Some sent her bouquets and chocolates. Some offered her to drive her back home because she had a terrible flu but insisted to attend the lecture.

It was difficult to resist the temptation of drawing oneself closer to beauty with brains like her, including myself. Nevertheless, kudos to her. She had declined everything to prove that her loyalty lies with my brother.

'You are not going to play her heart, aren't you? If you do that, my fist is ready to stop at your cheek.' I warned him. Oops, a tad overprotective. 'I swear I won't. It is so hard to finally get The One that matches with my soul.' He sighed. A disgusting subject that contained the terms 'soul', 'The One' and 'loyal' yet I could only speak of it with Brian and Elliot.

'Put your mind at ease. I don't do touch and go, like you. Catherine may be my last but I can make her be my forever.' Brian added. His smile was sincere and his eyes held a glint of joy. Touch and go. He had improved so much since dropping perfect phrases to describe me was like some sort of heavy practice for him. Bravo, brother! 

'By the way, I always peeked at your girlfriend's answer, asked her to finish my assignments and completely forged her reports. Her answers were great. Her efforts were tremendous!'

'You bullied her?'

'I tipped her.'

'Brother...'

'Cheers, Declan.' Brian slapped his forehead gently. So tired of his little brother.

We started to make our way out when the bar was progressively filled with customers. It was nearly midnight. The rain had stopped falling. The hustle and bustle of the town shattered the quiet. We didn't exactly plan out of our next destination, so we kept on walking until we were interrupted by a shoeless man and on him, a checkered t-shirt with a size of his big brother, clinging where it should not, hanging loose where it should not. Brian shook his hand and offered his help. In his hand, was a torn photograph of a little girl and a woman. I felt a pang of guilt. My heart sunk.

The man had not eaten for two days, either his family. Brian was constantly comforting him and eventually giving him some quid. He was so close to sobbing when he found out Brian had gave him a lot of quid, probably more than enough to buy a meal for four people each.

'May God bless you.' He smiled through gritted teeth in response, blinking in the moonlight before slowly fading into the night.
How could people hate Brian? Wherever he went, he would always be blessed.

There was something about him that drew people to him. I guessed it didn't hurt that he was a decent boy, but it was more than that. He was quiet, but not out of painful shyness. It was a reservedness, like a conscious choice to observe the lay of the land before he got involved. Yet he was not stand-offish, his face remained friendly and his body posture welcoming. Nothing was threatening about him, nothing at all. He was an easy listener, a good audience, giving encouraging feedback laced with intelligent comments. The person that I would always look up until I died.

'Did I say anything wrong? Why are you staring me like that?' Okay. I didn't realise I was being a total creep.

'Nah, just wondering how does it feel like to fake it as you did.'

'I wasn't faking it, you wanker.'

'Just wondering. Not accusing.'

'What a pain in the arse.'

'Anyway, where are we going?'

'There's a funfair over there. We could have some fun.'

'You're betcha!'