Stupid Brothers & Co.

The moon reflects itself on the hoods of countless cars. Dizziness invades my senses as I walk through the endless lines of vehicles parked next to each other. He must be in his car with some girl. He has to be there. Somehow, I feel better thinking that he is probably here. He wouldn't just run away with the book, right?

"Ugh!" I grumble, finding it hard to breathe. 

How didn't I see this coming? It was so obvious he was deceiving me. That's who he is.

I'm sun set, I burn things until they die.

He is hard-in, no one can see what truly is inside him.

He has to be somewhere in the real world. Why was I so stupid to give Hardin Scott his own book. This is so typical of him. Although, why would someone run away from a story with a happy ending? Oh, God. What if I made him disappear from his story? What if After disappears?

I need to find him.

My feet speed up and I finally reach the place where his car was parked. It's empty. He is gone.

Oh my Gosh. Oh my Gosh. Oh my Gosh.

Wheezing, my hands clutch my knees as I bend to catch my breath.

"Sunset!" Lukah shouts from afar. 

I grab the sides of my head and start pacing the floor.

I screw it so badly. They're going to fire me. After is going to disappear because of me. Tess will fall for Zed instead of Hardin. This is a real mess. Mrs. Woolf will find out and she will fire me, or sue me. Oh Lord, what if the fandom learns I did this? I will be publicly executed.

"Hey," Lukah grabs my shoulder. "Take a deep breath. Relax, I talked to your brother. He will understand—eventually," he urges me, matching my frantic steps.

"I lost him. I lost Hardin Scott, Anna Todd s going to sue me, and the whole fandom will crucify me," I babble, ignoring him.

"Sunset, you are not making any sense."

I stop in my tracks, facing Lukah. 

"Can I borrow your car?" It sounds like a question, but it's more like a demand. 

He pats his back pockets, searching for the car keys. "Let me drive you."

"I need to go on my own." I gulp. How can I explain to Lukah that I'm looking for a fictional character that is actually real and that I'm so lame that I cannot even have a real date? —Not to mention that he already witnessed one of my anxiety attacks. 

"You wouldn't understand," I voice. "Please, I need to do this alone," I beg him, clutching the side of his arm.

He steps closer to me, his green eyes melting into mine. "Will you be okay driving on your own?"

"I promise. I have a clear objective in mind, so it will be easier. If something happens, I'll text Raiden."

Handing the keys to me, he places them on my palm. When I'm about to turn around, he captures my hand and makes me turn again so that I'm facing him—with nothing but a mere inkling of air between us.

"Take care of yourself," he whispers, his eyes drifting briefly to my lips. 

"I will."

Then, as if that moment didn't happen, he explains to me where his car is parked. 

"Thank you so much!" I kiss him on his cheek—again. Oh my Gosh, how many more times will I make that mistake?

****

The fear I usually feel when driving must be buried really deep in some corner of my brain, or maybe it is just outshined by the fear of not finding Hardin. Yes. Definitely. One fear is blocking the other.  Also, the good thing about driving so late at night is that the traffic is much less than at other times of the day.

After driving for an hour, trying to figure out where a fictional character like Hardin would go, I ended up checking all sorts of places: two discos, the cinema, the CN Tower, and its surroundings. Oh! and three different tattoo parlors.

By 2:36 AM, I have three messages from Raiden on my phone.

📳I don't know what's happening, but be careful.
From: Stupid Brother, 1:49 AM

📳We are going home with Dean and Lukah. Come meet us at their house when you are done.
From: Stupid Brother, 2:30 AM

Dean? Who was Dean again?

📳 I would rather you date all of my friends than a guy that stands you up in the middle of a date.
From: Stupid Brother, 2:34 AM

As much as my brother annoys the hell out of me, he really is a very supportive person. Especially, after the accident. He worries about me, so I can't complain, and I really should keep my distance from his friends. Since we are around the same age, we always shared friends, but at this time I just feel like I can't ruin any more friendships for him.  And that's something I keep doing—ruining things. Sun set.

Rubbing my forehead, I exhale my frustration. Maybe I should save his contact under a different name. Perhaps later, when I find a certain someone.

The Stardust Café comes into my view. I easily park in front of it since there're barely any cars at this time. And right then, I see him. Hardin Scott, sitting on the floor against the wall that is around the Café.

Slamming the door shut, I stride toward him. His knees are pent up, and he's holding the book in his hands. His eyes look vacant as I watch him struggling to communicate with me, his hands moving slowly, his tongue too slow to produce comprehensible sounds. Of course he is drunk or drugged—or both. Great. 

I snatch the book from him. "Are you damn insane?" I fire.

He looks up, squinting his eyes at me. 

"And you're drunk, really? How could you do this to me?" I cry.

He gulps, struggling to get up. "I-, I'm s-sorry." He hiccups. 

"Of course. You're such a horrible character, honestly." I snap the book closed in his face. I can't talkto him like this. And I need to return this damn book before the StarDust Café/bar closes. 

Turning on my heels, I spot Joe, the Café's owner. He's closing the bar. I hurry as I see him putting the key in the door.  

"Hey! Sorry to bother you," I shout, startling him. 

"Sunset? You okay?" He frowns at me.

"I just forgot something. Can you wait for me just for a few seconds?" I explain. 

"Um, yes. Sure." He opens the door for me.

"Thank you!" I smile politely as I dash inside.

My feet go down two steps at a time. I open After again. I don't think I'm done vomiting my anger at him. I

Seconds later, Hardin Scott materializes in front of me. This time, he's not drunk but his facial expressions show that he remembers what happened.

My hands shove him off.

"You made me trust you!" I thunder. "How could you leave me? How could you leave Tessa?" I punctuate every question with a shove. He left. He left his fictional world. Now, what if Mrs. Wolf noticed what happened?

"I needed a break," he mutters, defeated as he receives my violent shoves.

"You fucking prick! We all need a break, but that doesn't mean we're allowed to walk away from the people we care about! Most importantly, you don't walk away from your fictional world just like that!"

"I was going to come back! I did come back. I was waiting for you here." He pushes his hands inside the pockets of his black jeans as I stop my actions and I just stare at him.

"Oh, yeah? And in the meantime, I was driving around all of Toronto trying to find you, asshole!"
I shout, my fingers clutching into fists. 

I can't believe I said he was the perfect book boyfriend.

"Would you let me explain myself?" he insists.

"Later, arsewipe!" I shut the book in his face and he dissolves into thin air.

I humph and make sure to lock the door as I leave.

🔸🔸🔸

How did I let myself believe that Hardin Scott was someone that could be trusted?

Harry Styles should teach him some of that 'treat people with kindness' stuff.

I feel so, so stupid.

Now my brother, Lukah, and this Dean guy are most probably feeling sorry for me.

Ugh. I hate when my plans backfire.

My forehead rests on the steering wheel of his car. I have arrived at Lukah's house five minutes ago, but my body seems to be reluctant to move.

After a few more minutes, I find the resolution to get down of his car and I find myself in front of his door.

My knocking doesn't bring anyone to the door.

It's 3:26 AM and I'm alone. So, I send Raiden a message.

📳 ➡Care to open the door or should I keep Lukah's car to myself?

When I receive no answer I knock at the door, again. This time, it budges a little, making me realize that it's unlocked.

I push it slowly forward and get in. My eyes scan the room when my ears hear some laughter—and moaning.

Everything seems to go into slow motion as I see Lukah, half naked, and a blonde girl straddling him.

"Oh, fuck!" he growls. "Get off me, Camille!"

When Camille does, half naked as well, I realize that this is my worst possible nightmare. This is Camille? Yes, beautiful, annoyingly perfect Camille, my french classmate from the cooking course who was also kind enough to lend me her clothes at Lukah's birthday party.

I turn on the lights—purposefully. Not because I want to see, but because I want him to see.

"This is really something, why do you chase me if you end up doing things like this?" I question him, my arms crossed.

"You can't blame a guy." He grins.

Gathering all the strength I have, I throw two cushions at him.

My brother saunters downstairs, half asleep.  "Sunset, are you okay? Calm down," he rasps.

"I'm going to get changed...excusa moi!" Camille dashes upstairs holding Lukah's shirt to his body.

I ignore both Raiden and Camille. My blood boiling and about to erupt in Lukah's direction.

My hands reach for my bag, I open it and pull his sweater out of it.

I take two confident strides toward him and shove his sweater against his chest.

"Here. I've been meaning to return this to you," I spit, my tone laced with hatred. A blend of white musk with aged burnt odor fills the room, hindering my confidence. 

Lukah's eyes drag to the sweater and then to my eyes.

"Why does my sister have your sweater?" My brother comes closer to us.

"This is not mine," he declares, his hands up in defense.

I laugh hysterically. "Oh, come on. It's not like we hooked up or something!"

Raiden folds his arms and looks at Lukah.

"I swear to God, Raiden. I didn't touch her!" He puts up his hands in the air.

"Could you all please stop addressing me as the plague?" I face palm my face with both of my hands.

"Dean, just, why the fuck does she have your sweater?" My brother grows impatient.

Wait.

Dean?

"What the hell happened to my sweater?" someone questions joining the scene.

My eyes flash towards the owner of the voice and then back to... Dean?

Oh n-no. This is just my luck. 

Twin brothers.

They are twins.

I turn to my own brother. "When the hell were you going to tell me Lukah had a twin brother!?" I poke his shoulder making him trip a little.

"Wait... You thought Dean was Me?" Lukah appears next to Dean and I am about to faint. They are exactly the same. Just different eye color. Dean has clear grey eyes, Lukah green ones.

"When were you going to tell me you had a twin brother!?" I ask Lukah now, who I only recognize because he's actually wearing clothes, while Dean is not.

"Is this the girl you were talking about the other day?" Dean quizzes Lukah, who, in return, pats him on the stomach with the back of his hand.

"Let me get this straight, both of you were making a move on my sister." Raiden gestures between them. "And you..." he points at me now, " you thought they were the same person?" His eyes look confused.

Raiden's hands run through his hair as he places the floor. "Sunset," he whispers, "please, tell me you didn't do something with both of them."

"Why do you always blame me when things like this happen?" I bark. "And for the record, this has never happened before."

"Just answer the question." He sounds so disappointed.

"Ask them. Who was the one that promised not to touch me?" My glare fixed on the twins.

Dean raises his hand.

"Who is the owner of the sweater?" Raiden asks.

Lukah raises his hand.

"Why does she have it?"

"He gave me the sweater the day of his birthday because it was freaking cold. Nothing happened." I sigh, frustrated.

"What happened to my sweater, by the way?" Lukah asks and I blush beet red.

"I- I, I accidentally burnt it. I can buy you a new one," I voice,  my eyes fixing on a spot on the floor.

"Ok, from now on. And this time I hope you keep your promise,  you will stay away from my friends," Raiden warns me.

"Bb- But-" I stutter.

"End of discussion. We're going home. Let's call an Uber. I don't want any of you in the same room, not until I have a conversation with each and one of you." He grabs his jacket.

I was about to say that they were the ones who wouldn't stay away from me. But, who cares what women think, right?

After all, it seems he will continue being stupid brother in my contact list.