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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year

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Gold Dust Woman | iv

Driven to the brink of insanity, y/n turns to her best friend for advice in her time of need. A Sunday brunch paired with day drinking leads to a world of new information she hopes will help her to better understand the new world she is caught up in.

Read part three here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: sexting, sort of phone sex I guess, dirty talk, name calling (ish?), pet names, touch of praise, teasing, drinking, swearing, gossip (is that a warning? idk anymore guys), mentions of cheating, but nothing super heavy for this chapter! sorry if i miss any!

in my hungover state I present you with this! I’ve been waiting to write this chapter literally since I’ve started this. it’s super important to the plot and I think clears up a lot of stuff!! plus it’s a good little summary of everything leading up to this chapter. also id just like to say a super sincere thank you for the love i have received on this series. it was a big step out of my comfort zone and i was really worried that it wouldn’t be enjoyed, but you guys are so kind and supportive. i <3 you all. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The tiny diner was overcrowded for its size, but still as welcoming as ever. Cheer and comfortability radiated through the air from the minute you stepped inside, never failing to brighten spirits. The small booth in the very back corner was routinely reserved for you and Danny on your Sunday outings. Brunch, always, but it was normally followed by some sort of wholesome activity to fill the afternoon. Then again, it didn’t matter what you were doing; time spent with Danny was always wholesome, and quite fulfilling. His friendship was one of your most prized possessions, mostly because you never really experienced anything like it before him. The conversation was never dull, radiating a type of safety that made you feel like you could tell him anything. Jokes were always well timed, advice was free-flowing, and a gesture of comfort was routinely available if needed.

Sundays were your favourite day, because you got the opportunity to spend time with him. Sometimes, the other boys would join, but that was rare. Even if they opted not to, you were fine with that, because you knew that the booth in the very back would always be reserved for two. That day was no different; you picked Danny up from his apartment at the usual time, and you both showed each other new music discoveries from the prior week. After the high stress of the weekend, you were happy to return to some type of normalcy, even if your regret for your careless decisions were constantly looming over you. When you arrived at the diner, the familiarity of the scene wrapped you up in a warm hug.

When you settled in to the seat, you placed your purse beside you and your phone face down on the table. The morning had started in a strange way, still leaving you frazzled hours later. After yesterdays activities, you had woken up tangled in the bed sheets and wrapped around Jake Kiszka. You never thought you would find yourself in such a state, but the reality of it was all too overwhelming to ignore. Although it wasn’t a bad start to the day, you were still aching with residual stress from the entirety of the situation. When he woke, too, the feeling seemed to wash away. There was a few hours where things seemed perfectly right, instead of troublesome; laughing and kissing your way through the earliest hours of your day, cooking breakfast and sharing cups of coffee along with stolen glances and smiles. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, making you genuinely believe you could spend the rest of your life doing just that. Once he’d left you on your lonesome, the guilt creeped back in like a disease, eating away at every part of you and taking you for its own. It had yet to satiate, even with Danny in front of you and a promise of a good day.

“You look terrible.” He stated, taking a sip out of the coffee mug the waitress had quickly delivered. Your eyes snapped up to him, shocked at the blunt statement.

“Thanks?” You furrowed your eyebrows, a small laugh stuck in your throat.

“No, not like that.” He corrected, placing his menu on the table. There was no need for it; you both had tried the entirety of the menu the restaurant offered, settling on your favourites long ago. “You always look pretty. I mean, you look like you just saw a ghost.” He was right, you couldn’t deny it. The bags under your eyes were darker than ever, skin pale and eyes distant. You were a mess, definitely looking like yourself but a mostly just a shell of it. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, unsure of how to respond to his statement. “Guess I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He shot back, his gaze unwavering. You shifted under the stare, feeling like he had already picked up on your predicament. You hated that about him; he always seemed to know there was something on your mind, even if you exhausted every way to hide it. It was just a Danny thing, and you had picked up on that long ago. He cared too much, noticed too much. Secrets didn’t exist around him, and perhaps that was why you were so excited for this particular outing, subconsciously hoping you might be able to get at least something off your chest.

“I don’t know if there’s enough time in the day.” You grumbled, taking a long sip of water from your cup. “I wouldn’t want to make your ears bleed.”

“I’ll strike you a deal.” He offered, causing you to look up at him. “Bottomless mimosas on me, and a shoulder to cry on.” You eyed him, nervous to agree but comforted at the thought of speaking your mind. “What’s said at brunch stays at brunch. I’ll drive home.” His invitation was very tempting. As much as you felt like you should keep the turmoil to yourself, the idea of advice or even just to confess your mistakes was overwhelmingly alluring. After a moment, you decided you would have to say something, even just an elusive idea to get some kind of answer to your internal debate.

“Deal, but it stays between us.” You finally said, realizing that if you didn’t speak your troubles aloud, they would eat you alive. Besides, there was nobody in the world that you trusted more than Danny. You knew you could probably confess murder and he would only ask how to help. “But my lips are sealed until those mimosa’s get here.” You smiled.

When the waitress came to check in and take orders, you both settled on a meal and Danny was sure not to forget your drinks. As you waited for her return, you struggled to arrange the thoughts in your brain. You had no idea how to explain the situation to him, or even where to begin. You were scared he would think differently of you, even though deep down, you knew he wouldn’t. The whole thing was sick and twisted, and you were so on edge that you thought you might combust. The last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship with Danny because of your inability to understand your own feelings. When the champagne flute was finally in front of you, your stomach churned with unease. You looked up to meet his eyes, but found he was already waiting in anticipation.

“So, what’s going on?” Before answering, you grabbed the glass and made quick work at finishing the liquid in one go. You figured you’d need the courage to tell this story.

“Remember that lesson we were talking about?” You asked, checking the flute to make sure you didn’t miss any alcohol before setting it back down.

“Vaguely,” he smirked “but I don’t think you ever told me exactly what it was.”

“Yeah, because I still have no idea what the fuck it is.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I made a really big mess of things, and I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Okay, don’t panic. We can work through it together.” Your heart warmed at his words, feeling a little better just at the thought of his input. Even if he were to tell you that you were an idiot, you knew you deserved it. There had never been a time where advice from Danny hadn’t helped, even if it was only for a moment. And, although you hated to admit it, he was almost always right. “What kind of mess?”

“A big one.” You said, unable to find a better way to describe it. “I guess I probably have to go way back to the start for anything to make sense.” You sighed, placing your head in your hands. Your plan for keeping your feelings quiet had crumbled long ago; if you were going to tell him anything, you would have to explain it all. “The lesson was Sam. I’ve been in love with him for months.”

“Mhm,” Danny nodded, pausing his response as the waitress walked over to replace your drink. Once she was out of earshot, he spoke. “I had an idea.”

“Was it that obvious?” He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting you to see his face as he reacted to your question. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, finding your inquiry quite funny. “Oh, god.” You groaned.

“No, not exactly obvious.” He lied. You let out a groan, embarrassed that everybody seemed to know about your crush. “I don’t think he did, though. He’s pretty oblivious.” He comforted you, the second part of his statement much more genuine. “Why is that such a big deal?” You audibly laughed at his comment, realizing that he had no idea the extent of the problem.

“He never gave me any idea he liked me back. Flirted with girls at my house, acted like I was just another one of the guys. I never really felt like I meant anything more to him.” You explained. “And I was too much of a coward to say anything. Thought it was better if I kept everything a secret. I didn’t want to risk losing you guys as friends. I like you all too much.”

“We like you too, y/n.” He smiled, finding your worry silly. He knew that whatever happened, he still wanted to be your friend. You were his solace away from the chaos of his band mates, and to him, it was the best thing in the whole world. You gave him a soft smile, taking a moment to sip at your drink again. “No matter what, you’re always going to be my Sunday brunch date.” He assured you. You let out a long breath, now preparing to get into the deepest part of the conversation.

“So that night, after you and I talked, I figured that I had to snap out of it. I spent every weekend watching him, hoping he would make a move, or even give me some sort of hint that he acknowledged I existed in any way other than a friend. I was tired of waiting. I wanted to have fun, so I asked you to play beer pong.” He hummed an agreement, letting you know he was following. “And I partnered with Jake.” And what a grave mistake, that was. “I was drunk, and at first it was friendly, no different than usual. Then he started looking and talking to me different. It wasn’t bad, obviously, but he was very clearly flirting.” You paused, noticing the small smile he was fighting back. You tried to ignore it, not liking the way he was looking at you. “I was really drunk, and it felt really nice to be noticed. I shouldn’t have entertained it, but I did. I played along with him, thinking it was harmless. The game ended, we went out separate ways, and I figured that was the end of it. It should have been the end of it.”

“It wasn’t, though, was it?” You shook your head at his words. The conversation was stopped by plates of food in front of you and another replacement for your empty mimosa. You took a break from the grievous topic to have a bite to eat before continuing. After a few moments, you answered.

“Nope,” you sighed, popping the p to accentuate the impact. “We talked for a little while longer, then I went to the bathroom. Heard someone playing my guitar in my room, so of course I had to check.” You cursed yourself for not knowing better. “There he was, playing so well that it draws you in without a second thought, looking as pretty as ever.” He got a laugh out of your statement, never hearing two compliments sound so much like insults. “I joined him and we talked for a while, completely normal stuff.”

“You guys hooked up?”

“Ah!” You snapped, pressing your finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep his voice down. He let out a hearty laugh at your dramatics, knowing that nobody in the vicinity gave a single care about what you were talking about.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess!” You said, exasperated at the thought of recalling that moment aloud, especially to someone so close with Jake. You took another long drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves. “I went to bed, and I didn’t know what to think. Part of me was thrilled, but a bigger one never wanted to do it again. I felt so guilty, almost like I cheated on Sam even though he had no idea I liked him. How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid, y/n. I think it’s pretty normal, actually.” He shrugged. “We live in our own head, and when we like someone so much, especially for a long time, it kind of starts to feel real. I think you feeling guilty is actually more normal than not caring. Means you really do like him, and it’s not just a surface level thing.” The confirmation was nice, but also made you feel even worse. You felt as though you shouldn’t be allowed to have feelings for Sam anymore, especially after how you spent your morning. “I take it that’s not the end?” He chuckled, picking up on your sullen expression.

“No,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands again. “I wish it was, but no.” He reached over, looping his fingers around your wrist and gently pulling your hand away from your face. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, noticing his smile.

“It’s okay. What’s said at brunch stays at brunch.” He promised. You gave a slight nod, letting your hand fall into his. He rested them on the table, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

“When I woke up and only saw you three in the living room, I kind of thought he regretted it, too. Figured he sobered up and… yeah.” You laughed, not feeling a need to get into your insecurities. “I was nervous, still feeling pretty guilty, but we were all hungover so I just blamed it on that. Things felt normal for a minute, when we were all just sitting and falling asleep. Then he came back. From the minute I saw him, I knew he didn’t regret any of it. He gave me my coffee. My coffee, exactly how I order it. He remembered, and I don’t even think I’ve ever told him.” You mumbled, feeling a blush rise at the memory. “We ended up going to the basement, and nothing happened, really. We kissed and talked, and we kind of agreed he would stay after everyone left.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.” He reassured you. You narrowed your stare, causing him to back down instantly.

“Aside from the feelings thing, no.” You admitted, feeling bad for giving him such a harsh look. “While we were playing songs, everything felt fine. It was fun, I wasn’t nervous or worried about anything, and I thought that maybe things would be fine. I know Jake isn’t the bad guy; he’s not someone I wouldn’t want to fall in love with. I think I’d like it, actually, if the situation were that simple. He’s always been kind to me, he’s funny, he remembers things about me that nobody bothers to. He cares about the little things. He pays attention.”

“And Sam doesn’t.” He affirmed. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“He never has. I feel like I wasted months loving someone who didn’t give a shit whether I was around or not.” Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but bit his tongue instead. It was your time to vent, and he wanted you to say what you needed without interruption. “I went to the kitchen to get more coffee, more comfortable with everything. I thought maybe if Jake and I spent enough time together, the feelings for Sam would just be… obsolete. I’m sure it would have worked, too. But, he just had to follow me.”

“Sam?” You nodded, giving him a bit of clarity. You were so worked up that you were rushing yourself through the story.

“Yeah, we just chatted for a minute, both drank our coffee like normal friends. Then he tried to hold my hand! And then tried to hint around that he liked me, too!”

“He did not,” Danny sat back in the booth, letting his head slump against the seat, internally cringing at his best friends terrible timing.

“Sure did! The whole confession was pretty funny, actually. Not to me, but definitely to someone! It was like god was sitting up in the sky laughing at me while it happened.”

“He’s so stupid.” Danny groaned, clearly exasperated himself. Danny was so unapologetic about his secret love of girl talk, and it made you incredibly happy. He really was your best friend in every sense of the word.

“Yeah, and I was a little pissed off! It made me feel like I was only worth loving when he was afraid he couldn’t have me. We argued for a few minutes, and he basically pried the confession about Jake out of me so he could use it for his own personal agenda! Then, he got this grand idea that he’d make it into a competition between him and and his brother to see who can win me over.” Danny gave a wince at the thought, already aware of Sam’s thought process before you even said it aloud. “I told him it was a bad idea, and I meant it. It is a terrible idea.” You clarified before telling him any more. After a few moments of silence, his eyes were urging you to continue. “We kissed.” You sighed. He let out another laugh, like what you had said was a joke rather than something you deeply regretted. His hand squeezed yours once more, another gesture of comfort. “What’s so funny?”

“No, no. You tell your story, I’ll talk later.” He assured you. With an air of discomfort, you accepted the deal, deciding to purge yourself of the last bit of the story so you could get it over with.

“It was fantastic. Something I’d been waiting forever to do. It almost felt wrong because it felt so right. So I planned on ending things with Jake. It was the right thing to do; I know if Sam had kissed me even a day sooner, there would have been no problem or conflict. I would have been over the moon.” Danny gave a hum, understanding what you meant, but not certain he agreed with it. Still, he held his thoughts back until you were finished. “You guys came in, and Sam left. Jake was still in the living room, because I told him to stay after everybody went home. I went in to talk to him, fully prepared to end things, but when I saw him, it was like it disappeared. He’s just so… captivating. Like, when I’m around him, he’s the only thing that exists.”

“Yeah, he does have a pretty big personality. Hard to ignore. He’s quiet, but I think that’s part of the charm.”

“Yep, because everything that comes out of his mouth is perfectly thought out.” You snipped, angry at the thought of his perfection. “He started talking, and he knew Sam and I had done something in the kitchen. I didn’t even have to say anything to him. There was a lot of back and fourth, kind of unimportant. I don’t even think I could explain it, anyway. But, he basically said that they both had feelings for me and they decided that they should both have a fair shot at winning me over. Isn’t that fucked up? That they decided that on their own, and didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what I thought! Anyway, whatever. Doesn’t matter now, I guess. He said some cryptic shit and I told him to leave, but it was mostly just because I was pissed off. I don’t think I really wanted him to go. Like I said, it doesn’t matter, because he stayed the night, last night. He left before I came to pick you up.” You sat back in your seat, defeated still, even after talking through the whole thing. The words being spoken into the universe only seemed to make you feel worse about the predicament. The only hope you had left was that Danny would have some sort of miracle advice to help you out, but you didn’t want to keep your hopes too high. “I think Jake’s been feeling the same way about me as I feel about Sam.”

“Okay.” Danny said, showing you that he was sufficiently aware of your predicament. “My turn?”

“Please.” You urged, finishing the last of your drink. You barely had the glass back on the table before the waitress was there to replace it. You were starting to feel the buzz of the liquor, realizing that you were genuinely getting day-drunk just to forget about your own mistakes. You were at an all time low, you decided. Your usual attitude towards relationships had continually assured you protected yourself, never letting anyone get to close, and never falling for anybody too hard. It was lonely, but loneliness was much preferred to how you were feeling in that moment. Now, in addition to a broken heart and a guilty conscience, you were scared you were going to lose the only true friends you ever had.

“I’ve known Jake and Sam for a long time. It’s a blessing and a curse. I love them to death, they’re family. Fun to be around, great friends, all that mushy shit. But, after so many years, you pick up on the bad stuff, too.” You were intrigued, now. As the fourth glass of the heartache remedy slid down your throat, you felt yourself leaning in closer to the table, not expecting a response like such. You thought Danny would call you on your bullshit, tell you that you were an idiot. You prepared yourself for that, still, because the conversation wasn’t over. It was still a possibility, but you certainly didn’t think his advice would lead in with the Kiszka’s baggage.

“You mean to tell me they’re not perfect? That god didn’t hand craft them and put them on earth just to make the rest of us feel bad?” He had another hearty laugh, finding your tipsy smile hilarious. Your ability to joke even through your turmoil was heartwarming.

“Seems that way sometimes, but no. At least I don’t think so.” He reassured you. “Jake and Sam are a lot more alike than everyone thinks, and not just physically. Sometimes, they’re more alike than Jake and Josh, which is incredibly hard to do. I mean, they’re brothers, so it’s expected, I guess. I didn’t notice it when we were in high school, but Jake wasn’t around as often. Once we all graduated, we started making music and spending a lot of time together. I think that’s when I realized how similar they were.”

“Mhm,” you agreed, wholeheartedly believing him. The two were strikingly similar in lots of ways, despite a few blatant things that offset their shared traits. You could even tell through their touch, or the small interactions that left you guessing if they previously conspired what they were going to say to you, or if it was just their Kiszka nature.

“Their taste in girls has always been one of those things. Over the years, girlfriends or flings caught interest in the other brother, or vice versa, and it was always a bit messy. It seemed like if you fell for one of them, you’d eventually fall for both of them. Or if one of them fell for you, the other would, too. It’s really fucked up, actually.” He gave a little chuckle, trying his best to explain the observation. “They caught on to it pretty soon, and fought over it once or twice, but it never seemed to cause an issue between them. They’d be mad for a few days, then they would move on like it never happened. I don’t know if they accepted it, or if they just didn’t care. Personally, I couldn’t do what they do. It would drive me crazy.” He added, clearly letting on that whatever he was leading in to was common, very deeply rooted and still pressing. You could see in his eyes that the idea was unsettling to him. “For a year or so, whichever way it went, the other just admitted defeat and moved on.”

“Oh, wow.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around his words. It felt like you were learning deep lore about them that you weren’t supposed to know.

“I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I felt like I shouldn’t be, but it seems like they’re back to their old ways. Trust me when I say it’s much harder on you than it is on them.” You nodded, agreeing with the statement. The whole twisted relationship had given you nothing but turmoil since it had begun, and you were desperate for insight on how to fix it. To them, it just seemed like another day’s work. “Our first real tour, Sam fell super hard for a girl we met at a bar one night. Like, I mean head over heels, stars in his eyes, the whole nine yards. He got her number, and they were in love before we even left the bar. They ended up getting together, and things were really great between them. She even came along with us for a few weeks. They were happy for a while, but then Sam let tour life get to him, I think. He fucked up, hooked up with a random girl and threw the whole thing in the garbage. It was absolutely his fault, and I’ll never defend him over it, but he was young and had no idea how to handle the fame, even if we weren’t that big back then. He seemed to cling to every bit of attention he got. I know he regretted it as soon as he realized what he did, but obviously it was too late. I don’t blame her for leaving.” He shrugged. You were watching intently, immersed in every word.

“Now, I don’t know for certain what happened. Nobody talks about it anymore, and we never really did back then, either. It’s in the past, and everybody wants to keep it that way. But, that girl ended up in Jake’s bed after the big blowout. I don’t know if she initiated it, or he instigated, but it didn’t really matter, anyway. Sam found out and went insane, and he wasn’t interested in knowing who started it. They fought, like really fought, fists and all. We thought that would be the end of the band; they didn’t speak to each other for weeks. Rehearsals and concerts were constantly tense. The girl wasn’t even in the picture, anymore, Sam just felt betrayed and Jake didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong. Before, I don’t think he was ever really in love with anybody, so it didn’t matter as much. But that time, Sam reached his breaking point.”

“Holy shit,” you didn’t care about anything else happening around you. The story was captivating; both boys were very closed off, never giving too much away about themselves. They’d always answer questions if asked, but you never really heard much about the past, especially relationships. You were realizing why, now. “Poor Sam.”

“I guess.” Danny shrugged. “In that situation, yeah, but he’s not innocent. After they made up, he never let it go. He wanted to get back at him, and he did. Ever since then, Jake never had a chance to have a relationship. The minute he showed interest in someone, Sam was already trying to win her over. At first, I think it was just a coincidence. They’re similar, they like the same type of girls, obviously that can cause some issues. After that, it was different. Clearly intentional and meant to be hurtful. I stopped feeling sorry for them a long time ago. They know what they’re doing, and neither of them want to be the bigger person and apologize. Over the years, it’s just grown into a big mess.”

“So that’s why they’re doing this?”

“Yeah.” He felt no need to lie. “They’ve always been competitive. It’s a brother thing. Sam more than Jake, really. I think it’s because he’s younger, maybe feels inadequate sometimes. But to be competitive over girls with real feelings… I don’t like it. After so long, they learned to take the loss and move on. Better luck next time, to them. They mope around for a few days and then they’re back to best friends like nothing ever happened. The girls always end up getting hurt in the end, and that’s the fucked up part. They can hurt their own feelings as much as they want, but I don’t think it’s right to do it to anyone else.”

“That’s why Jake knew what happened in the kitchen. And Sam was so certain he was going to win me over. They’re masters at the game.” The whole wicked, devil-like persona’s were making more sense, now. Every move was thought out, meticulously planned and executed with grace. They’ve been playing this game far longer than you’d even been a part of it, and you were curious if they even had real feelings at all, or if it was just a part of the spiteful process.

“Masters, I’m not sure about. Cocky and annoying, absolutely. I don’t care what they have against each other. They have to settle that between themselves, not bring anyone else into it. All of us consider you a friend. A best friend. What they’re doing hurts everyone, but clearly it’s been hurting you the most.” You finished your drink, looking around for the waitress to get another refill. You were in information overload, more questions and worries filling your head with every second that passed. He picked up on the nervous energy, giving your hand another small squeeze to bring you back to reality.

“Do you think they even care about me, or is it just to piss each other off?” His eyes widened, realizing how easily you could have interpreted that from his story.

“No, y/n, not like that. I can’t speak for certainty on everything, but I am pretty sure Jake’s head over heels for you. He always perks up when we talk about you, and he’s the first one ready when we’re going to your place. Most of the time, he’s begging us to hurry up. I can see it in his eyes. We all see it, and I think that’s why I got so excited when I saw you guys flirting on Friday. Hoped that he’d finally get the courage to make a move.”

“Okay,” you whispered, scared to ask anything about the other boy, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

“Sam likes you, too. He told me himself, and not just yesterday, either. I’m not picking a side, or trying to get you to choose. Just telling you what I think you need to know so you can stop beating yourself up.” He explained. “I don’t know why Sam didn’t speak up, sooner. I told him you liked him, gave him encouragement, but he never said anything. He acted like he was oblivious, but he knew. Everyone knows you have feelings for Sam. I love you, but it was obvious.” Your cheeks turned rosy, embarrassed at your own inability to hide your emotions. “I think they both really like you, and they were scared of the same thing. They didn’t want the other to steal you away, but they fell into routine again and they’re doing exactly what they wanted to avoid. When Sam saw you with Jake, It probably lit a old fire in him, which is why it all happened so fast.” As much as you wanted the knowledge to give you reassurance, it only made the dread grow even larger.

“I don’t know what to do, Danny.” You sighed, closing your eyes to ward off the stress headache. You retracted your hand from his, missing the comfort of the hold almost immediately. You brought your fingers to your temples and gently massaged the area, satiating the ache slightly. “I never should have started anything with Jake. I had feelings for Sam. It was selfish, and I know that.”

“I think you had feelings for him, too. Maybe you just didn’t realize it.” He offered. “It’s not like you to start something like that without any reason. Plus, like I said, if you like one of them… history tends to repeat itself.” He said, keeping the truth light.

“If I didn’t, I sure do now.” You let out a humourless laugh, pushing the food around on your plate with your fork. “I feel like I maybe put Sam on a pedestal because I had such a big crush on him. I always thought I was in love with him, but I was never with him. I didn’t know anything beyond the surface, never experienced anything more than friendship. Not even an idea. Now, I’ve been with Jake. I know him, and I feel like maybe what I felt for Sam was just infatuation.”

“Could have been.” He shrugged, unable to answer that one for you.

“But when I’m around him, both of them, actually, they have this pull, like the earth is forcing me into their arms. It’s impossible to think clearly with them around, and I think maybe I just have to take a step back to figure it out.”

“Good luck with that.” He joked, eyes drifting to your phone on the table. “Your phone’s been going off all day, and I’m pretty sure I have an idea who it is.” You couldn’t deny anything, mostly because you knew he was right. Intermittently, another vibration would sound, and you knew if you picked it up, it would be one of the brothers you were trying so hard to ignore. “I don’t care if you ignore them, as long as I still get to see you. Wouldn’t give up our brunch dates for the world.” He sent a playful wink your way.

“Let’s just run away, get married and have mimosa’s for the rest of our lives on a cute little porch while we watch the sunset.” You grinned. “Don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked. “If I get involved in this, I’m definitely winning.” You both shared a fit of giggles, happy to ease the tension with light jokes. “But seriously, if that’s what you want to do, do it. I know how hard on the head they can be normally, so I can’t imagine what it’s like being in your position.” He sympathized. “It’s not fair to you. I think maybe that’s why Jake tried to be so secretive about it, he wanted to make the move and start something before Sam could get involved. But, it’s like some weird brother thing; they can always tell.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I ignored too many lessons, and the universe is super mad at me right now.” You sighed, your attention grabbed by the waitress dropping another drink off. You mumbled a small thank you before she disappeared again. “I like them both, but I don’t want to hurt either of them. I don’t want to get hurt. The whole thing is fucked up.”

“May I offer my opinion?” He asked, mischief laced in his tone. You gave a nod, figuring that anything would help at this point. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt them nearly as bad as you think.” He assured you. “Yeah, obviously, however this goes, someone is bound to be disappointed, but they’ve been playing this game for years. If you like both of them, play the game with them.”

“Encourage it?” You were in disbelief that he would even suggest it.

“Yep.” He confirmed, no hesitation in his voice. “Listen, they started this whole thing. They think it’s okay to play with your feelings, so play with theirs, instead. Maybe teach them a lesson.” He explained. “Don’t let them run things. You’re in control here, even if you don’t think you are. Have fun with them, and hopefully they’ll see what they’re doing is wrong.”

“You’re evil, Daniel.” You contemplated the idea while finishing your final mimosa, feeling positively tipsy.

“No, just think it’s time they got some karma. They have to learn eventually, they can’t do this for the rest of their lives.” He said, throwing his cutlery and napkins on his plate. “As long as you think you can do it without hurting your own feelings.”

“I’m so pissed off at them that I don’t even care about that.” You chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. The statement was completely truthful.

“So teach them, and then we can eat our brunch in peace. When you do, hopefully they’ll never do it again.” You weren’t expecting Danny to side with you in the matter, but you especially weren’t expecting for him to cheer you on. As you listened to his story of the years he spent dealing with them, you understood why he was telling you to do it. Knowing Danny, you could only assume that there had been many instances where he had to do damage control because of Jake and Sam’s childish behaviour, and he was sick of it. Plus, he seemed quite annoyed with the amount of broken hearts that have ensued because of the brothers tyranny.

Part of you thought it was crazy, that there was no way you could do that to the boys. The other, angrier part of you thought it was a great idea. After only two days of turmoil caused by their behaviour, you were in shambles. Now, knowing that they were completely aware of their own actions, you had no issue handing it right back to them. “Okay.” You agreed. The liquor definitely had an impact on your decision making, but not enough for you to worry about it.

“There. Problem solved.” He smiled. “Maybe that lesson you were dreading wasn’t really your lesson after all.”

You both left the diner with a little more pep in your step than before. Your fears were settled, but not fully resolved. Still, the sense of doom that was looming over you seemed to ease up, and you accredited it solely to Danny. Without his words, you would still be drowning in your own misery. You spotted your car, making a move to get in the drivers seat. As you reached for the handle, you paused yourself, realizing that you were in no state to drive. You reached into your purse, fishing out your keys, and turned to see Danny already holding his hand out for them.

“All yours,” you said, dropping them in his palm. “Forgot.” You let out a giggle.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, sending a playful smile your way. You walked to the other side of the vehicle, getting in to the passenger side. Once you had your seatbelt buckled, he began the journey home. You connected your phone to the speaker, clumsily tapping the screen to unlock it. You hit shuffle on your playlist, not having the mind to scroll through and pick a song.

You turned your head towards the window, letting your eyes take in the sights as you passed by. Your mind was spinning with thoughts, but none stuck out as they passed through. Most were a jumble of topics from the previous day’s events, no coherent nature to them. You wanted to check your missed messages, just to see what they’d been saying, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. You were angry, still, upset that they had no issue involving you in their mess and seemed to have no remorse over it. Even so, the urge to talk to them, to be with them, touched by them, was growing more urgent by the second.

Danny was right; it would be impossible to ignore them. That left you with two choices; play along, or let them play with you and get hurt in the process. You still weren’t certain that the first option would keep your feelings safe, but it was worth a try. Even if it didn’t, hopefully it would ensure neither would pull a stunt like such ever again. “I think I drank too much.” You stated, another giggle laced in your words. He glanced over at you from the drivers seat, giving you a grin.

“Guess that was my fault.” He chuckled.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling softly. “You helped, a lot.”

“I’m glad.” He replied, turning down the street your home was nestled on. “I’m always available for free therapy and alcohol.”

“I always appreciate it. I appreciate you.” You said, watching your driveway creep into sight.

“I appreciate you, bug.” He shot back without missing a beat. The pet name made your heart warm with affection. He really was your best friend, always your biggest comfort and favourite person. Nobody else compared to him, and you hoped that no matter how the situation played out, you’d still have him by your side. A small, selfish part of you wondered why you couldn’t just fall for him; he was funny, sweet, and genuine. Any time spent with him was worth more than the world, and he was beautiful, too. For some reason, it was written in the stars that he was to be your best friend, but that was more than okay. A life with Danny as your best friend was a certain promise of a good one. As much as it sucked dancing with the devil, or the Kiszka brothers, rather, it was meant to be. Even while you wished it away, hoped you could fall out of their grasp and into someone else’s, there was a part of you that loved being loved by them.

He parked your car in its usual spot, getting out to open your door for you. He walked you to the house, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. You both went to the living room, collapsing on the couch with exhaustion, as if you’d just ran a marathon. “You’re stuck here.” You laughed, finally realizing that he didn’t have his own car with him.

“I’ll call a cab, don’t worry.” He assured you, grabbing his phone to do just that. As he found himself busy telling the company the address, you reached over to the chair beside the couch, grabbing the acoustic guitar Jake had been playing earlier that morning. As he hung up the call, you plucked at the strings mindlessly, eventually switching to a chord progression that you had grown to know very well. “Dinner and a show?” He teased, still in awe that you had hidden your talent for so long.

“You know, it would be a lot of fun to come with you guys.” You thought aloud, dismissing his joke.

“You should.” He affirmed your idea. “Even if you just came for a part of the tour.” You let out a low hum, letting him know you heard him without having to respond. Instead of pushing you further, he leaned back into the couch and watched you as you played. Once you were certain he wasn’t going to speak again, you began to sing along to the music, to the song you loved so much. Jake had pegged it as your nickname, and at first it was endearing, but the more you listened to it, the more the words resonated with the ache settled deep in your chest.

“Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave” you looked to the fretboard, feeling the need to focus harder because of the alcohol swarming in your system.

“Heartless challenge, pick your path and I’ll pray

Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down

Lousy lovers pick their prey but they never cry out loud.“

You sang the rest of the song, breathless by the time you were finished. Danny had a smile stuck on his lips, understanding that sooner or later you would agree to their offer. He could tell how badly you wanted to say yes, but your anxiety was holding you back. You were thinking of the offer, too, but something more pressing came to kind in light of the song choice. Or the mimosas. Or both, maybe. You weren’t sure. Either way, Jake Kiszka had inevitably made his appearance in your thoughts once more, but it wasn’t like he had left in the first place. His presence was always existing within your brain somewhere, even if it wasn’t at the forefront.

It was horrid, never being able to escape him, but it was phenomenal all at the same time. In the last twenty-for hours, he helped you feel more alive than you ever had before. His touch was still lingering in your skin, electrifying every nerve. The memory was fantastic, but nothing compared to the real thing. He was addicting; his company was no longer a want, but necessary for survival. You wondered if you would ever be able to live without it, quickly realizing that you never wanted to find out. Before, the thought of not having Jake around was terrifying, but after having him so intimately, the idea was debilitating, stealing the air from your lungs and crushing you under its weight.

“I could listen to you sing all day, but I gotta run.” Danny broke you from your thoughts. “Plans for tonight, can’t get out of them.”

“Cheating on me, Daniel?” You let out a tsk, showing your displeasure. He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Could never do that to you, darling.” He said, as dramatically as possible. You put the guitar to the side, standing up with him so you could give him a proper goodbye. You pulled him into a hug a bit tighter than usual, catching him off guard. It only took him a second to return the gesture, wrapping you in an aura of comfort.

“Thank you for everything. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He assured you. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon?” You nodded, head still pressed to his chest.

“I love you.” You said, parting ways with him. “And yeah, I’ll update you.” You smiled, your secret plan solidified by your words.

“Give them hell.” He said, a tone of pleading hidden in the joke. With a wave, he disappeared around the corner and the front door sounded a moment later. The second the door shut, the emptiness of the home already started to seep in.

You gathered your thoughts, shaking away the haunting feeling of seclusion, and made your way to your bedroom. Once inside, you switched the power on to your record player, resuming whichever vinyl you had left from this morning. You let your eyes flutter closed at the hum of the song cutting through the silence. Another vibration from your phone caught your attention, suddenly remembering the messages you had intended to ignore. Now, with Danny’s words sounding in your mind, and your first chance at alone-time, you channeled a new courage to reply. Your fingers pulled the phone from your pocket, eyes immediately drifting over the screen. There were a few texts from your own band mates, and when they could come over to practice. You made a mental note to respond to them later. You moved on, seeing Sam’s name adorned on a missed call. You opted to focus on him later, your eyes seeking the contact you wanted to deal with first.

The notification bar from Jake had three messages. When you tapped them, you expected to be met with filthy words to fuel your desire to get back at him. Instead, the first was a small message of thanks for letting him stay the night prior, confessing his enjoyment. It was simple, not detailed, but enough to make your heart beat a little faster and a blush to make its way onto your cheeks. The second message was a well wish for your lunch date with Danny, saying he hoped you had a good time. The third was much different, more on par with what you had expected from him.

Jacob

Let me know when you want to share some more secrets, Gold Dust Woman

You felt a surge of emotion rush to your stomach, the words so simple, but the feeling so large. It was so easy to give in to him; he barely had to look your way and you were jumping at the chance to be noticed by him. It was crazy how fast the dynamic changed, how quickly he became so important to you. Without a second thought, you were already typing a response.

You

What kind of secrets would you like me to share, Jacob?

You hit send, not expecting a response considering you had waited so long to reply. Before you could even shut the screen off, the text bubble appeared on the screen, signifying his presence in the chat. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, happy to see that he was on your hook just as much as you were on his.

Jacob

I can think of a few

You

I’m sure you can. Care to elaborate?

His response was almost immediate, as if he’d pre-typed the words in anticipation of your question.

Jacob

Still wearing that red thong from earlier, or was that just to show off?

You enacted a plan as soon as the text was delivered and you processed what it said. You threw your phone on your bed, quickly shimmying out of your clothes and discarding them on the floor. The alcohol was still buzzing through your veins, your decisions heavily reliant on the false confidence the champagne bestowed upon you. You retrieved your phone, making a move to stand before the mirror on the opposite side of your room. You pulled up your camera, taking a few pictures from different angles, clearly showcasing the red fabric he was so curious about. The pictures that included the matching bra was just out of generosity.

You sifted through the pictures in your camera roll, picking the ones you thought were the best. You swiped back into his chat, reading his message over again. Instead of saying anything else, you sent the few photos you deemed acceptable. You went to the kitchen, unable to find a care to put your clothes back on, and turned your phone screen off. You scoured the fridge, finding a bottle of wine unopened and patiently awaiting your arrival. As you poured yourself a glass, you listened to the repetitive vibrations of incoming text messages. You looked to the clock on the wall, noting the time. Then, you took a seat in a chair and enjoyed the beverage you had fixed for yourself.

After a few moments, the texts ceased, leaving you to sit in silence and ponder your actions. You sipped away at the bitter liquid, refusing to give in to the temptation of answering him. When your glass was half empty, the vibrations resumed. This time, it was an incoming call. The ticking of the clock caught your attention, realizing you’d left him on edge for about fifteen minutes. You figured if you let it go much longer, he would show up at your front door. The thought itself wasn’t terrible, and you certainly wouldn’t mind the company, but you decided you wouldn’t push him that far. His incoming call ended, but it wasn’t long before another one sounded. With a smile on your lips, you picked up your phone and accepted his attempt to reach you.

“Hi,” you said, cheerily, as if you had no idea he had been blowing up your phone. “What’s up?”

“Ignoring me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, no angry tone or hint of annoyance. The soft inquiry sent a rush of arousal through you, just knowing that you had bothered him so badly was enough to send you spiralling.

“Why would I do that?” You asked, tipsiness laced in your voice. He picked up on it almost immediately, thinking your new-found confidence was a result of the alcohol. In truth, he wasn’t completely wrong. Although you and Danny had devised the plan, the execution was heavily reliant on intoxication. For some reason, sobriety did not help your case with either brother. Their charm and wit held you in a chokehold, any time you had the courage to retaliate, they made another move to make you submit. Despite your lack of control, it was still quite enjoyable. Now that tables had turned, that he was the one sitting and thinking about you and slowly driving himself to insanity, you had to admit that it was enjoyable, too. Maybe even more so, if you had to choose.

“Don’t be a tease, angel.” He hummed, the sound of his voice through the phone sending a shiver through you. You thought you might give in, throw the act away and beg for him to come over, but you bit your tongue and powered through.

“I thought that’s what you wanted to see, baby.” You played innocent, taking another sip of wine to keep the spirits high. Your head was buzzing, swimming with many thoughts. Most were filthy, focused mainly on how badly you wished he was in front of you, rather than on the phone. It was ridiculous how fast he consumed your entire being. Thoughts of his hands, his tongue, and how good they felt when they were on you. You missed him, even if you opted not to say it aloud. It had only been a few hours, but it was much too long for your liking. “Was that what you wanted, Jacob?”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, bothered by your use of the pet name, bothered by the sultry tone you were speaking in. A smirk formed on the corner of your lips, cocky enough to know that you had power over him, too. “Yeah, it was, baby.” He conceded, unwilling to argue the point. “You still didn’t answer my question.” He stated, not willing to let you off the hook so easily.

“What was your question?” You asked, one last attempt to get under his skin. He let in a long breath, trying his best to stay calm while you made it a point to piss him off.

“Why were you ignoring me, angel?” He was heavy on the terms of endearment, leaving you unsure if it was because they were genuine, or if he was using them to coerce an answer from you.

“Wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie to him. “Did it work?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled his response wordlessly. Even without an explicit affirmation, you could tell it did just by his tone change. He had expected the answer, but it didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “Didn’t know you were such a brat.” He noted.

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.” You snipped back almost immediately. He let out a chuckle, but it wasn’t because he thought your words were humorous. It radiated a tone of shock, as if he was trying to tell you that you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned. “Don’t make me come over there and fuck that attitude out of you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You teased. He could hear the smile on your lips through your words, making it difficult for him to keep up with the act. He found your joy infectious, and the teasing fun, in a greater sense than just sexual. He enjoyed all conversations shared with you, even if there was no sexual gratification. He just loved being around you.

“I would, but I don’t think you would.” He said, simple enough to get the point across, but powerful enough to worsen the growing ache between your legs.

“Maybe you’re the sadist.” You theorized, throwing his own idea back in his face. If only he knew how badly you lived to please him, his previous accusations of sadism would be laughable.

“You’ll have to wait and see. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice was soothing, even if the topic was filthy. You could listen to him speak all night and never get bored. He was devastatingly perfect, and he made it easier to fall for him every time he opened his mouth. Without thought, you opened your mouth to speak, letting the wine take control of the conversation.

“I miss you.” The statement was quiet, but impactful. In reality, the three words were barely loud enough to catch a normal listeners attention, but the sound was deafening, to him. When you were met with silence, a fizzle of regret formed in your chest, wondering if you took it too far. You would take it back, pretend you never said it or bury it so deep down that could never surface again, just to ensure he wouldn’t hang up the phone; the last thing you wanted was to scare him away.

Although drunk, your feelings were true. You did miss him: you wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever, whether it be just with basic comfort or with sexual nature. You didn’t care, as long as he was with you. In three days, his presence had not only caught your attention, but made home within the walls of your house. Feelings for him were blossoming from every angle, immersing you within them and tying you down with their roots. It only took three days for Jake to make you a fool for him, three days to produce a feeling that rivalled your feelings for Sam. If you thought you were in too deep before, you were drowning, now.

That’s the funny thing about love; it cares little about who it’s next victim is, only about the fatalities it leaves in its wake.

Despite equal consent to the game, fatality was most definitely the prize. By choosing to be ignorant to risk, all three of you willingly sealed your own fate. No amount of repent could save you from the consequences. Deep down, you were well aware of that fact, but the sin was so pleasurable that it no longer mattered.

“I miss you, Gold Dust Woman.” The words only solidified your desire to ignore the risk. It was the most beautiful statement you had ever heard, and it was laced with sincerity. Imbedded with so much emotion that it made your head spin, wondering if it was even possible for someone to speak with such unwavering clarity. As if he, too, realized the extent of his vulnerability, he quickly spoke to cover it. “I miss being inside you, more.” The sweet tone quickly turned into one of desire, but both of you knew it was a lie. He desperately missed the mornings activities, his arms wrapped around your waist with a kiss placed to your neck while the smell of coffee lingered in the air. Smiling and laughing, singing along and poorly dancing to the hum of the record player. Taking turns playing guitar for each other, him dedicating every song to you but leaving it unspoken. He missed the moments of silence, more comfortable than any other, where he could hear your breathing steady while your eyes fluttered closed, enticed by the idea of falling back into a slumber. He missed the fleeting feeling of you being his, and his alone. Even if the idea wasn’t wholly truthful, he liked to pretend it was.

And in a way, you were. Every part of you belonged to him in some sense, even if other forces were trying to pull you away. But neither of you would ever speak those thoughts aloud, scared of the same things, even if the ones you focused on were not the biggest threats. Instead, you played along, sad that he felt the need to discredit such a genuine confession, but relieved that you didn’t have to explain your own. You both fell in step with the devil once again, ignoring the ache in your hearts and covering it with animalistic attraction and half-truths. If only you could both hear how loud he was laughing, pleased that you carried on just how the devil intends.

“You know there’s always a place for you between my legs, baby.” You whispered, the low tone shaking him to his core, settling in his bones and breaking them under the weight of the statement. It was unspoken that the confessions of emotion would be ignored, as always. It was just the way things were. You could practically hear his need for you through the phone, even if he didn’t say anything.

“Is that what you want?” He posed the question in a derogatory manner, as if he was trying to make you to feel shameful for wanting him so badly. You could see through it, knowing that he just wanted to hear you admit your desperation for him. “You want me, baby?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. As you realized that, you also realized how badly you wished you could see him. Before responding any further, you clicked the FaceTime icon on his contact. Within seconds, he accepted. The screen lit up with his face, immediately giving you a sense of relief. You took in the sight, noting he was sitting in his living room. You had only been to his apartment a handful of times, but you knew it well enough to recognize it. “Hi,” you smiled, almost forgetting the nature of the conversation.

“Hi, beautiful.” He disregarded the vulgarity for a moment, too, just so he could admire you. The blush that spread across your cheeks caused a smile to break out on his lips, too. He noted the wine glass in the frame before his eyes inevitably landed on your attire, the adoration in his eyes quickly fading into lust. The distant look let you know that he was already imagining what was beneath the flimsy red fabric. Remembering what lie beneath. As much as his expression enticed you, you couldn’t let him get away with it without making a comment.

“Eyes up here, Jacob.” You scolded, catching his attention again.

“Expect me not to stare when you look like that?” He asked, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Sadist.” He smirked, the word bouncing between you both, accompanied by pointed fingers and accusatory tones. Perhaps both of you were the sadists by continuing your entanglement without caution or worry about the future.

“I know how much you love the red, but I think you’ll love what’s underneath it, more.” You said, eyes never leaving his face. You could see the muscle in his jaw tense at the thought, proving you were correct.

“I think red is your colour, sweetheart.” He noted, disregarding your words. As bad as he wanted you to remove the clothing, he’d be caught dead before admitting you were right. “Sit back, baby. Let me see the rest of you.” The order was firm, making sure you knew that it was not a request. You propped your phone against the wine bottle, obeying the instructions and leaning back in your chair, allowing him a better view. He let out a sigh, content with the sight of your mostly exposed upper body.

“Like this?” You asked, bringing your hand to your chest and gently running your fingers over the edge of the cup on your bra, gently pulling it down in the process. It was enough to tease him, but not enough to show him what he was hoping to see. You let your finger linger for a second before releasing the hold. The fabric drifted back to its original position and you let your fingers trail down your bare torso.

“Just like that.” He affirmed, visibly bothered by the show you were putting on. “Be a good girl and take that off for me.” His plea was covered with dominance in attempt to hide his neediness, but it wasn’t working. Part of you wanted to give into the request; with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to want to deny him of anything. But, that little devil in your head was as angry as ever, now fuelled by the knowledge Danny had given you.

“Come over and take it off yourself.” You replied, trying to remain unbothered by his pet names. His eyes flashed with discontent, fed up with your continuous disobedience.

“You want me to come over?” He asked, playing into whatever game you were trying to start with him. You gave a nod, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the temptation for much longer. “You need someone to take care of that ache between your legs? To make you feel so good that you can’t remember your own name?” His tone was soft, sympathetic almost, but the flame ablaze behind his pupil and the slight tension in his jaw led you to believe he was being quite misleading.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, ignoring your worry about his honesty. The arousal pooling between your legs was beginning to feel uncomfortable, like a constant, dull pain that would eventually drive you crazy. Something about Jake always led you to believe that life without him would lead you to the brink of insanity. The constant talk of want, or desire was quite minimal compared to how you truly felt about him. Necessity was closer to correct, depending on his touch more than your own heartbeat to keep you alive.

“You need someone to take care of that pretty little cunt,” he deducted, taking in a long breath at the sound of his own words. He was just as worked up as you, debating throwing his plan in the garbage and getting in his car that instant. “And you know I’m the only one who knows how to do it right.” He finished, finding the strength to stay seated and continue his merciless taunts.

“Please come over, baby. I need you so bad.” The words slipped out easier than any you had said before, the strength you had to endure his words was breaking apart every time he opened his mouth.

“I know, angel.” He hummed, soothing you for just a moment. You thought he was going to give in, to tell you he would be there in a minute, but when he spoke again, you wish you’d never started the battle in the first place. “I want to help you out, but you haven’t been very good for me. Being a tease doesn’t get you what you want, baby. You know that.”

“Jake, please. I’m sorry.�� You begged, that feeling of familiar dread filling your stomach. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“If I give you what you want, you won’t learn anything.” The irritation that grew from the smirk he was wearing was unbearable. You couldn’t genuinely believe that after the entire call, he would have the nerve to deny either of you the pleasure of spending another night together. “Go take care of yourself, sweetheart. Just think of me when you do.” Your teeth were clenched, frustrated that your efforts seemed to have no effect on him.

“Just come over, baby.” You tried once more, but his mind was made up.

“If you do what I say and behave, I might come and see you later.” So that was his plan; like always, he was willing to give in, but he felt the need to ensure you would suffer, first. “Another picture might help, too.” He sent a wink your way, so subtle that you almost missed it. Before you had a chance to respond, he had ended the call and you were met with the disappointing sight of your screensaver, wishing you had one more minute to admire the sight of his face.

You had two options: deal with the issue yourself, wait it out and hope he would feel generous enough to pay you a visit after a while, or call a cab and go to him, first. As much as the second option was tempting, you knew if you did so, it would only fuel his ego even further. He was well aware of the power he held over you, and running to him would only solidify the idea in his mind. Waiting to see if he would come over might do the same, but at least you would have the upper hand. By the time he showed up, your overwhelming need for him would have time to simmer. Then, you could give him a taste of his own medicine.

So you sat, sipping away at your wine, thinking that it wouldn’t be too difficult to wait it out. The closer the bottle got to empty, the more confident you felt about the situation. If he wanted to be an asshole, you could be, too. His request for more pictures would go unanswered, and he would have to give in. Even in your drunken state, you were aware of the power you had over him, too. Confidence did not equal satisfaction, though. You nursed the last of your wine until he showed up, or until you found something better to do, quickly realizing that time would not satisfy your craving for him. With every minute that passed, you hoped the feeling would fizzle away, but the more you ignored it, the worse it seemed to get.

Eventually, as you drained the last few drops of your glass for the second time (you had to make sure it was completely empty, of course), you heard a knock sound at the front door. A jolt of energy surged through you, realizing you had won the battle without putting any effort in at all. You stood, leaving the empty bottle on the table for decoration, and wasted no time following the sound of the knock. When you reached the front door, you ran your hand through your hair, straightening yourself out to look the best you could for him. Before opening the door, you ever so slightly peeked through the blinds.

In your drunken state, it seemed blatantly obvious that it was Jake standing outside. The tuft of brown hair that caught your eye was so familiar, immediately showering you with relief. But, if you looked for a moment longer, you might have clued in that opening the door in your current attire was a mistake. Had sobriety been in the question, you would have noticed the distinctive difference, how the body was taller, a bit more slender than the boy you were looking for. Maybe, it was possible you did notice, but we’re too blinded by excitement to cognitively understand that Jake was not the one knocking on your door. You wished to see him so badly that you overlooked any possibility of it not being him standing there.

When the door creaked open, you had a smirk on your lips, ready to throw his bluff back in his face. Instead of grasping the feeling of satisfaction for Jake’s failure, dread bled into every nerve in your body. It took a moment for both of you to understand exactly what scene you had found yourself in, but when you came back from the shock, you couldn’t even find the right words to express how you were feeling. Your limbs were frozen, unable to shut the door again and your heart was stuck in your throat. Sam’s wide eyes and parted lips showcased his matching emotions, also void of a proper response. Even in his complete surprise, he couldn’t help but feel his gaze drifting over every exposed part of you that was offered. If you wanted to be dramatic, you could even go as far as to say he was drooling at the sight of you.

After a moment of staring, you took a step to the side, covering as much of you as possible behind the solid door. “Do you greet everyone like that, or am I interrupting something?” He said, clearing his throat, joking to subtly to pass off his blatant gawking.

“Um, no… and no, I guess.” You squeaked, cheeks red enough to match the fabric that was barely concealing you.

“Expecting someone else?” The corner of his lip upturned into a smirk, finding humour in the awkward moment. He knew you were likely expecting his brother, but his cockiness allowed him to use the knowledge to his advantage.

“No,” you said after a long bout of silence, trying to sound confident. The alcohol was sending the devil in your head into a drunken rampage. Your plan to play into their game was bouncing around within your skull, urging you to take the embarrassing greeting and make it into something better. If Jake wasn’t willing to give you what you needed, you were sure that Sam would have no problem helping you out. If they wanted to involve you in their mess, you should have no issue using it for your own benefit. You were both playing with fire, but the heat was gradual; welcoming at first, and only burning you after the fact, once you were too far in to turn around.

“So I showed up at the perfect time, then?” Your anxiety washed away, even finding yourself able to produce a genuine smile at his ridiculously childish response. Your eyes drifted over his face, taking in the details of his expression. He had recovered from his nervous state, too, but his eyes were still glistening with appreciation at the beauty of you before him. You could have shut the door, turned him away with an apology and let the memory die, but his beauty was captivating, and you were drawn in by the way he was watching you. If you had found yourself in the situation with a lower blood-alcohol content, the whole thing would have been ridiculous and terribly wrong. Maybe it was the wine, or the brunch conversations that lead you to the conclusion in which you were headed towards. It didn’t matter, anyway, because you had already made up your mind. You didn’t want to turn him away; you were eager to let him inside.

“I think so.” You agreed, playing into him.

“Red’s your colour, princess.” He noted, trying to catch another glimpse of what you were trying to hide from him without being too obvious. Just another blatant show that Sam and Jake were in fact brothers, and brothers indeed. Too alike for their own good, and too foolish to see the problem. “You should wear it more often.” His voice was quiet, much different than his usual chipper tone that sounded through an entire room. You had never heard him speak in such a way, except for the small moment shared in your kitchen. It was enticing, perfectly alluring and dangerously gratifying.

“You should come in,” you stated, not as a request, but a fact. He watched you for a moment, attempting to convince himself that you were serious and not just pulling his leg. When you kept your composure, no hint of anything other than a genuine nature, he made a move towards you. Once he was inside, you closed the door behind him with little thought.

Perhaps too much carelessness for such a grave decision that would ultimately seal your fate.

Lousy lovers pick their prey

but they never cry out loud

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld

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