blondie [muke af]

three

three

Michael thanked the babysitter, showing her to the door with her weekly check. 

He kicked off his shoes, letting out a deep sigh. He dumped his shiny black shoes on top of the designated rack, mentally cussing them out for being so uncomfortable. He threw the tight jacket on the floor, knowing the maid would be by tomorrow to collect it. 

"Cy?" He called out his brother's name.

"In here!" His voice called from the living room. 

Michael smiled because he wasn't alone. Before his parents passed, he'd come home to a big, empty house with no one but himself. He was stuck in his thoughts and he couldn't escape. 

He'd never admit it, but he's also afraid of the dark. 

"How was your day?" Mike asked, plopping down next to the fourteen-year-old. He grabbed the television remote, turning down Say Yes To The Dress. Their favorite guilty pleasure was TLC. 

"Terrible, miserable," Cy answered, wiping his brown hair from his eyes.

"Really?"

"Yes, Mike, really. I hate it there, I don't like going." Cy scooted further away from his brother, wrapping his feet under his body. Cyril hated his school like most teenagers of the twenty-first century.

Michael noted he was still in his private school uniform, his tie still tight around his neck. "You have three and a half years left, you can do this." The darker haired boy reached over, helping his sibling take off his tie. "I don't want to send you back to public school, that was worse."

The tanner and broader Clifford brother laid his head in Michael's lap, "I know, it just sucks." Mike could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, interrupting the moment with his brother. "Answer it."

Michael rubbed his hands through Cy's scalp as he began to stand up. "Hello?" He mumbled once the phone was pressed to his cheek. 

Cy sat up, rubbing his dark brown eyes. He sighed, looking up at his older brother with a tired smile.

Luke lifted his head up from his desk as his name was called, he slowly sat up, letting tiny kitten yawns escape from his mouth. He stretched his tight white dress closer to his knees, liking the feeling of the material against his smooth legs. If he's going to spend two hours a week shaving his entire body, he's sure as his descent into Hell going to show it off.

He scooted back in his chair, looking up at empty chairs. His black high-tops scratching against the floor. 

"We think the website has been hacked, we need to send out a tweet," Ella said, running her long fingers through Luke's flat quiff. She knew she wasn't going to be able to fix it, but it was worth a try. 

He twisted his vintage Chanel earrings around his thumb and index finger, trying to comprehend his surroundings. Luke let out another yawn as he gave her the approval, "Just send out a tweet or something."

"Jon already did. They called Mike in and he's in a mood, apparently."

"How bad?" The 6'4" blonde stood up, rolling out his shoulders before collecting the laptop that was paused on a video of a cat. He quickly shut the silver MacBook before anyone else would see. 

"I was in Tech with Cal when he came in, and he was yelling like  he's gone mad. I thought someone died." Ella wiped the sweat from her hair line. She obviously snuck out the side door of the Tech offices, not wanting to deal with the wrath of Michael G. Clifford. 

"Where is the rest of the team?" Luke asked as he looked around the bare room, "If he comes in here yelling, I don't want to be the only one."