Whoo....I'm so sorry that I haven't been updating. I feel like such a butt for it and I'm sorry but life's just....being a stinky butt to me too ರ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ರ

Okay so for those who forgot what happened at the last chapter, I'll try to explain it.

Ezri who was brought by Abuela suddenly revealed that his Isabella's brotha! (⁠ಠ⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ᕗ He then comforted little Bella cuz she suddenly saw her best buddy, Nicolai!

Oke done <(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)>

Oke, now some asked what's Ezri's past and I'm so proud that you guys are ready to torture yourselves with Ezri's past  ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

For those who will be STRONK, good for you ᕙ⁠(⁠ಠ⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ᕗ

Without further ado, lezzgo, jellybeans!!

****

Ezri: [The Past]

The minute I heard the clock ticked, I knew I had time by my side. I never had to worry about the life ahead of me. I was always so sure of everything. I had a good mother and a grandmother who always said that I'm the perfect son.

I thought I had everyone at the palm of my hands. Abuela said that life was a game but I always thought it was a play. I thought I was the puppeteer and everyone, except my dear grandmother and mother, were my sweet toys. I thought I was the mastermind. I always thought I was. Always the brilliant one, my Abuela would say with a proud smile on her face.

I always thought I always get what I wanted. But that wasn't quite true. Because what I wanted was a family. A family where there's a mother and a father. But I didn't have a father.

Mommy said he left me because they didn't want me. They wanted someone different. Someone who wasn't me. I asked why and she replied with a sad quirk of her lips and a pat on my head as she whispered her answer.

"Because you're not enough for them, love."

Not enough? What was enough then? Have I not been the perfect son? Abuela said I was. I excelled in everything. People say I'm walking towards the path where my grandmother used to walk upon.

Success.

The path of success was supposed to feel good. It was supposed to taste sweet. Something I could revel in but all it tasted was bitterness. All my success, all I worked hard on was nothing because success wasn't something I wanted. I wanted family.

I wanted my family.

And, I never got what I wanted.

But Isabella did.

'A defective person', my Abuela would tell me. 'A girl like her would never grow up to be successful with the way her father took care of her.'

In what way? With love?

I realized that love made you defective. My mother loved me because I was useful and my Abuela did too for the simple fact that I was following in her footsteps.

I realized that I wasn't the puppeteer. I was the puppet and the stage that I thought I created was actually for me. I was played and used.

And I had nothing but my family to blame.

If Isabella weren't alive then I would have had brothers, I would have had a father. I would have grown up with love. I would have felt complete. My success would have meant something and I wouldn't be used like this.

If my father chose me instead of Isabella, then maybe I could have had the chance at being happy. I could have been raised with love. I wouldn't be the marionette that Abuela controlled.

I was controlled. I was a boy with strings disguised as chains. I didn't know that my grandmother groomed me to be a boy who would follow her footsteps.

I didn't know she would use me to spy on Dante's daughter. I never thought that I would be used against the one thing he wanted the most. Family.

Isabella.

Isabella, why you? Why did you leave me behind to rot? How could you be the one happy, not me? How could you be surrounded by people who genuinely loves you? Why couldn't it be me? Why couldn't you be the spawn in her game, not me?

Why couldn't you be the marionette?

Why couldn't I be happy?

Why can't I find any reason to live anymore?

How can I find breathing so hard?

It used to be so easy when I was just the naïve boy but now I'm drowning and I can't understand why I'm not allowing myself to swim up.

When did I realize that swimming up was just a waste of my time? When did I realize that drowning myself until I suffocate was such an easy way out?

Why, Isabella?

Why can't I be you? Why can't I take your place?

I realized why when abuela decided to make me stay with her.

It's because I was the puppet. All along, it was me who didn't have the strings to control things. I was the one who was wrong. I was played. I was used.

I was nothing.

It wasn't fair. Isabella has everything but a mother. She didn't even look for mommy. She didn't even look for me. Me, her twin brother. She chose Dante. She chose differently.

How could she be the perfect one?

How could she be the one who wasn't controlled? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that I was the one left behind. It wasn't fair.

Why didn't she look for me?

"Because," Abuela had said, caressing his cheek gently with a soft smile, "sweetheart, she chose that. She'd rather stay there than meet you. Do you know why?"

I shook my head.

Abuela chuckled, kissing my forehead lovingly. "Because, you're not family. Your papa only wanted your sister." She caressed my cheek and I leaned closer to the touch, desperately clinging onto her words.

"Why?" I whimpered, closing my eyes tightly as tears fell down my cheeks. "I didn't do anything to deserve being..."

Left behind?

"Oh, honey, you did." She cooed softly. "You offended them just by breathing."

I wish I could tell my younger self to not listen. I wish my younger self had been brave. I wish...

I wish things were different.

*****

Ezri [6 years old]

"Just being you being here makes me breathe, Ez." A six year old girl, Isabella said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I was told by Abuela that Isabella's family prefers me dead.

She laid her head on my shoulder and I could feel anger boiling inside me. How could she act like this? How could she be like this? It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that she had love. She was loved and I was born...

Out of it?

I was raised to be used. I was raised because they had to. I was forced to have a purpose and Isabella was someone who could choose what her purpose was in this mess.

How could they not save me?

Why couldn't dad do it?

Why couldn't my brothers do it?

Why did I have to lead a life like this? It wasn't fair.

I smiled and held her hand, my heart beating faster in anger. I wanted to push her away and I wanted to leave her alone to suffer. I wanted nothing more than to take her place just for one day. Just for once.

Just for once, let me be normal.

My chest throbbed at her words. It wasn't fair. It was never fair for me. "I'm glad."

I'm not.

"I want to be by your side to help you, Isabel."

I don't want to because looking at you hurts.

Isabella looks at me with tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Ezri." She whispered desperately.

Don't look at me like that.

I smiled but I could see the painful experiences I had in her eyes. I'm jealous that she gets to cry. I couldn't even cry without getting punished for it. I had to grow up not wanting to cry, not because I don't want to appear weak but because I don't want to be punished for it.

I had to stand up for myself. I had to erase any emotions just so Abuela won't see how much my wrists and ankles are red with the invisible strings she pulls as she drags me to wherever she wants me like her disposable puppet. I shouldn't cry because it's not right.

It's not right.

And I had to smile instead of cry because that was the only thing I was allowed to do. I had to smile so that others won't see how much I'm tired of thinking how much my mother gives  me this twisted love, tired of crying every night, thinking of reasons why dad never even tried to find me, or  why I was even alive in the first place.

I had to hug myself because nobody would do it. Everyone's fake and I'm numb. I'm numb to everything, even when abuela hits me with a long wooden stick that leaves red, painful-looking scars at the back of my knees every time she doesn't like what I did.

She makes sure I wear something that doesn't reveal what she does to me.

"You're always so kind, Ez." Isabella said. "I don't know how you do it."

I practiced it multiple times. I make sure my mask doesn't slip. I make sure I'm not severely punished for my actions. I make sure not to make Abuela mad. I make sure mom is proud of me.

Even though she does things that mothers are not supposed to.

***

"Mommy, please..." Little Ezri gasped as his mother pushed him towards the bed before pinning him down. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at her desperately. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry,  please. Don't punish me, mommy. I'll be good." Little Ezri cried.

His mother looked at him and smiled so disgustingly sweet before straddling his hips and caressing his cheek. "Good boy. You won't do anything to make mommy mad, right?"

Little Ezri nodded. "I love you, mom."

"You're mine, little one." She leaned over and Ezri would never forget what she did.

***

Ezri [15 years old]

I stood in front of Isabella's room. I felt a bittersweet feeling deep inside me.

It was my birthday today but nobody had ever greeted me with such sincerety and ever since I lived with Isabella, nobody had greeted me because no one is supposed to know that.

Shaking the dark thoughts out, I entered her room and grinned when I saw her sleeping with her hair messy and her body sprawled out all over the bed.

I laughed quietly before hurriedly sitting at the edge of her bed to look at the girl properly. We had grown close together and being with her wasn't as bad as I thought but I still couldn't remove the bitterness I feel inside.

I wasn't angry with her or anyone anymore but I wasn't also completely okay.

"Happy birthday." I said softly with a soft smile plastered on my face as her eyes slowly open up to look at him with a tired look on her face. I began to play with her hair as she tries to wake herself some more.

Isabella gave me a look of confusion as the light from her window blinded her momentarily. "Ez? What're you doing here so early in the morning?"

I looked at her, trying to hide the pain that clutches my heart and leaned forward to give a friendly kiss on Isabella's cheek. "Just greeting my most favorite person a happy birthday."

Isabella just groaned instead, closing her eyes again. "I'm jus' fifteen."

I'm fifteen too, I wanted to say but there was a lump in my throat that made me unable to say it out loud.

"Yes, so?"

"Why do you always celebrate my birthday. It's just a normal day like any other day."

Because I can't celebrate mine. I can only pretend that we're celebrating mine whenever Dmitri pulls out a fancy celebration for you.

I rolled my eyes and slaps her shoulder with a huff. "Oh, don't be like that, Of course I will celebrate such a thing, mi sol." I ran my hands through the mess of her hair, loving how soft it feels. "Eres mi media naranja, Isabel. You know that. So, you deserve the world. And you deserve to celebrate your birthday."

(My sun.)

(You're my better half.)

It was true. She was somewhat my better half. I was the corrupted one. Someone who came here with bad intentions. I wasn't some innocent boy she thinks I am. I'm not nice and im definitely not as good as Isabella.

I'm a broken boy with nothing but abuela's orders to cling on.

Isabella opens her eyes again to meet mine. She probably think I'm the good friend. She probably think I'm nice enough not to hurt a fly and I'm scared that if she finds out I'm anything but, she'll find me a monster.

But I'm actually a monster.

Everyone around her is a monster. She just doesn't know it. She doesn't know who's the pawn and who's not.

She doesn't know who's the puppet here and who's not.

All she knows is that it's her birthday and I hope it stays like that. I wish for her to be happy, even if I feel the bitterness feeling inside me.

"It's just my birthday though..." She mumbled, sitting up to look at me more properly. "It's hardly anything to celebrate about."

It hurts me to hear that. I couldn't even celebrate my birthday and here she is, not wanting to celebrate it. All my life, I wished for someone to celebrate it with me.

My birthdays were nothing but me sitting in my gloomy room with a cupcake and a single candle on it with my dolls sitting around me as I sing myself a happy birthday even when tears were streaming down my eyes because Abuela punished me again.

"Don't say that, Isabel. It was the day you were born. It is important, at least for me. I am grateful that you were born. If not, I would not have met you."

I just wish I didn't meet anyone at all.

I wish I could just sleep and never wake up because everytime I'm awake, it's like a living nightmare.