The Savage Brothers | ✓

CHAPTER 33: Above All Else

CHAPTER 33: Above All Else

BRYAN

I was woken up with the smell of pancakes. Beetch raced me downstairs to it.

The room looked better now. No way was I letting any maid touch me and Brandon's precious stuff. I already fixed all the mess we've managed yesterday afternoon so it's all good, I guess. Shards were taken care of, the bed sheets and pillowcases replaced, shelves got dusted, and I made sure there was little moving and renovations added to make up for the damaged displays. I paid some pool boy to tidy up the pool ASAP and so did Susan to keep her mouth shut until I figure something out.

But there was still that dumbass hole gaping wide like Jack's pink asshole. Mom and Dad got home last night and I don't know how I'll fix that without them questioning.

As I begrudgingly walk down the stairs to satisfy my rumbling belly, I was suddenly jolted upright with the sight of Mom and Dad cooking together, laughing.

Mom was wearing an oversized white shirt—probably from Dad—covering down to her thighs exposing those lean, flawless white legs of hers. She was chatting cheerfully in her favorite yellow apron, spatula in hand. Dad was in his pajamas and black, wife beaters showing off those arms and perfectly tone of his pectorals and abdominals.

They looked so raw and freshly out of bed, like some youngersters who were just about to eat breakfast after having a good time. Something Nikki would use #goals with.

Mom laughing and so did Dad. Both smiling. This is weird.

They stopped being in the kitchen together ever since we moved here in Massachusetts because of Dad's work and Mom's obsession with opening up her own café. In those times, only the maids were there to cook for us. But now Dad was even embracing Mom from behind as she flipped the pancakes, like typical suburban couples on a Tuesday morning.

Am I dreaming? Or is the world ending? What the fuck is happening? Did I go back in time?

Dad noticed me first, his head perking up from Mom's shoulder.

"Oh, good morning Bryan," Dad greeted with a... is that a smile?

When Mom saw me, her smile faltered a little. I sensed remorse.

"Your mom's just making breakfast," he explained further when my right eyebrow didn't go down. "How'd you like your eggs?" He's initiating small talks now like it's his second nature. Definitely weird.

Beetch was happily devouring the meal in her bowl, minding her own business. How I envied my own dog right now. All carefree and confident—I wish I had that now.

I didn't return the smile or the greeting, only narrowed a suspicious look at them as I take a seat on our fragile table. There was already a plate of avocado toasts.

"Sunny-side up," I answered.

I was still mad. Mad at everything, basically. Mad at Dad for lashing out on Brandon. Mad at Brandon for not trusting me as his twin. Mad at Mom for being right when she called me names. Mad at myself for being selfish and insensitive. I can't even say it out loud because of my goddamn pride and now I'm mad at that reason too. Fuck!

Mom's quiet as she finished up. Dad settled the plates of bacon and eggs onto the table. Mom joined the plates of towering pancakes in the middle. My morning irritation suddenly dwindled and was replaced with a salivating mouth.

"Coffee?" Mom placed the saucer and its steaming mug in front of me. "Just like how you like it." Brewed. No foam. A little bit of sugar and cream.