"Some of us have to grow up sometimes
And so, if I have to I'm gonna leave you behind
Some of us have to grow up sometimes
And so, if I have to I'm gonna leave you behind." - Grow Up

"It's really not what you think!" Kat whimpered for the umpteenth time, gripping the edge of my Sleeping With Sirens tee and giving me her puppy-dog look. I used my free hand to pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration, squeezing my eyes shut. It's been twenty minutes, and Katerina was still denying the fact that I had caught her and Zeke in the act.

"Sure, sure." I released my hold and gave her a shooing gesture, opening my eyes to narrow them at her.

"Lacey, really!" Kat repeated, and I let out a groan.

The two of us were seated in the living room, perched upon the obsidian leather couches organized in a half-sphere before the coffee table and flat-screen television. The cream walls were bland but inviting, and I tried to make myself feel at home like Blake suggested, but with Katerina bugging me every two seconds and the walls feeling as if they were caving in on me, it wasn't as easy as he made it out to be.

I shrugged off her hold and crossed my arms, blowing a loose strand of my hair out of my face. "What's Blake and Zeke talking about anyway?" The two male members of Tilted Reality had excused themselves from our presence as soon as I questioned about Zeke and Kat. They still weren't back and I was starting to get a little suspicious.

Kat pursed her lips and gave me a look before taking in a deep breath. "I can explain!"

Before I could strangle the annoying out of her system, there was the sound of footsteps hitting the wooden paneling in the foyer. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Zeke and Blake came into view - Zeke looking irritated, and Blake looking flustered.

"So do I finally get an explanation now?" I arched an eyebrow, ignoring Kat's subtle cough at my remark from beside me.

"Look, it's not something we can just tell you." Zeke snapped, running a hand through his messy hair.

"I-I... yeah, Zeke has a point." Blake gave me a small smile, shrugging.

"It's not like I'll tell anyone." I objected, frowning at both the matter and my hypocrisy.

Blake turned to Zeke and placed a hand on his shoulder, murmuring in low tones that I couldn't hear. The guitarist let out a sigh before whirling around to climb up the spiral staircase. Before I could question, Blake turned back to me and replied, "He's going to wake up Vee."

"Vanessa's here too?" I asked, cocking my head to one side. Blake just gave a half-shrug in reply. After a few moments of awkard shuffling of the feet, we started to hear shouts.

"God, Zeke!" An irritated shriek eminated from upstairs, making Kat jump in surprise. "I've told you a fucking million times not to wake me up! Leave me alone!"

"She really likes her sleep." Kat whispered in my direction, taking a pillow from the couch and hugging it tightly.

"Does it look like I give a shit? Jesus, we just got back from the competition like ten minutes ago. And just when I finally manage to close my eyes, you wake me up!" Vee's voice carried out throughout the mansion. There was silence after that, and I assumed Zeke was explaining the current situation. Blake started humming the Jeopardy theme song in the awkward silence, making Kat giggle. I shot them both a dark look, and instantly the tune faded out.

"Good morning!" A voice chirped cheerfully, and the three of us craned our necks towards the staircase, where Vanessa was walking down casually as if she hadn't just been woken up. Her hair was a pigsty, and she too was decked out in pajama gear, though instead of shorts, she had pajama pants on.

"Vee, it's half past four." Kat corrected. Vee just shot her a forced smile and repeated, "Good. Morning." This time there was no reply. Zeke came trotting down the stairs, rubbing a formulating bruise on his arm. Casting us dangerous glares, he settled himself onto the loveseat and muttered, "Okay, the gang's all here. Just tell the bitch already."

"Excuse me?" I narrowed my eyes, feeling my fists clench in annoyance at my sides.

"Sturm." Blake murmured, grabbing my arm before I could do something I would regret later. "Ignore him; this is kind of a big deal." With a small sigh, I released the tension in my body and shrugged off his hold, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Alright, spill."

"Where do we start?" Blake let out a sigh, mussing his hair in his uncertainty.

I bit my lower lip and settled myself deeper into the cushions of the leather couch, hoisting my legs up to my knees and settling an inquiring gaze on the four of them. They all sat on the same couch opposite from each other in a neat, orderly line. With their shoulders touching and with similar distraught expressions, they looked as if they were pleading guilty to charges pressed against him.

The clock on the wall beside me ticked by, counting down the seconds in the calm, as I waited semi-patiently for their response. If Kat and Zeke weren't dating, then why would they all act so comfortably with each other? To the point that exposing themselves weren't a problem, and that they all could live peacefully with each other?

"Tom found me first," Katerina interrupted my thoughts first, making me shake my head and glance her way. She fiddled with the hem of her camisole, not meeting my gaze. "It was in an adoption agency in Denver, Colorado. Don't get me wrong, the place wasn't bad. We were treated fairly and politely. But I was lonely, and the only thing I had left from my biological parents was this necklace," Kat lifted a small cross necklace that I just noticed was wrapped around her slender neck. "And a bass guitar. I loved that bass guitar more than anything; I started playing it when I was seven. Martha, my caretaker at the adoption agency, never found out why my parents left me, but at least I had my music to distract me from the pain and hurt I felt towards their abandonment.

One day, I was playing a song for the younger ones - Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes - and this man walks in the door. I still remember how the little silver bell above the threshold jingled, signaling a potential adopter, and how the children at my feet rushed to the foyer, wondering who would be lucky enough to be adopted. To be loved. But I was twelve, and I knew my chances were slim because the younger kids had higher chances. And so I continued playing my bass until that man walked up to me, and asked me my name. He introduced himself as Tom, and that I was extremely talented with rhythms and my ratty, old bass. He told me that I was coming home with him that day; that I was being adopted."

My eyes slowly widening at her story, I didn't get a chance to reply when Zeke spoke up. He had one arm lazily draped across the back of the sofa and his expression matched the tone of his voice - monotone and uncaring. Though his eyes denied their act, and shone with slight nostalgia. "He said I was found after Kat. Tom, that is. My mother died of childbirth so I never got to know the woman. But my father..." His body tensed and he let out a little cough before continuing in a much smaller voice.

"My father was your average rock 'n' roller. He played lead guitar in his band, Uncontained, and he lived the life, you know? The old man taught me everything he knew. I was shredding the guitar by the time Katerina started learning her instrument. One day, he overdosed." Zeke paused, shifting his gaze towards the hallway to hide himself from my gaze. "And he never woke up.

I was ten, sitting on the curb of a rural town in Vermont. I don't even remember the place's damn name. All I know is that I was playing a solo from an Avenged Sevenfold song, when a black car came to a halt in front of me. Now I wasn't stupid and I started to run, when Tom stepped out of the vehicle and introduced himself. He said with his help, I could improve on the guitar. That I could be in a band one day. He said I could be like my father. And I don't know. I was reckless; I was distraught. I didn't even look back as I climbed into that car and we drove away."

Already, I felt drawn to these four people, and the stories they've lived out. Not only were their backgrounds tragic, but they stand before me today with their heads strong and held high. I could only wonder what Vanessa and Blake went through.

"Little old me was next. I was found when I was a whopping fourteen years old." Vanessa managed a small smile. "I lived in Kissimee, Florida, alone, after my mom died in a car crash. My father left when I was six. If you had to know one thing, it was that I was dirt-ass poor. I wandered across the city, begging for clothes and money and food. I was pathetic." She let out a sardonic chuckle before continuing her story. "The only thing I had that was valuable was this right here." Vee pointed to her throat, cocking her head in my direction. "I would sing for money, and sometimes for added effect, I would find a battered pair of sunglasses and wear them. Like, pretend to be blind, you know? Some generous folks gave me extra. Sure, it was lying, but I had to survive.

Anyway, Tom approached me the same way that he approached Zeke. He pulled up beside me as I was walking to my makeshift home in an abandoned warehouse, and gave me a small smile. I still remember his words, 'Honey, why the long face?' And from then, he said that I needed a home and a family. And that he would honestly love the idea of a new edition to the family. Kat was in the backseat, and she gave me this adorable little wave- You remember that, Kat? But I was drawn. I was drawn in to the idea of having a family again and a roof above my head. So I agreed."

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for..." Blake chuckled, using the pillow beside Vee to start up an exaggerated drum roll. I rolled my eyes and waved a hand for him to continue, adjusting my position in my seat to get a better look at the raven-haired boy.

"Tom found me last, and he told me he had been searching everywhere for a 'talented little trooper' like me. He told me that he discovered me in San Francisco, California, in a little orphanage called HOPE. Apparently, my father passed away serving as a Corporal in the Marines. And my mother was accidentally killed in a shooting in the neighborhood I lived in. But I'm not sure if that's all true; it was what the orphanage told me. It was what Tom told me. They also say I'm a natural drummer and that from an early age, I developed an uncanny abiliy to mirror rhythms and patterns and spew them out onto an instrument.

Unlike Katerina's adoption place, my orphanage was horrible. We were treated unfairly, barely bathed or ate, and no one loved us. I mean, in truth, we were all unlovable in a way. And the sad part was that the owners got away with everything. Our location was in the bad part of the neighborhood, where violence and death tolls were high, and just.. nothing was going right. All I had were two sticks I managed to scrabble up in the short amount of time we were allowed outside. I would come up with rhythms and show the other kids, but I was ridiculed and mocked.

Everything changed though, when a man walked through those dingy doors and inspected the place. He saw me in a corner, drumming with my makeshift sticks, and I vaguely remember his eyes sparking with a thought. He asked me my name, and I said, 'Blake, mister.' He introduced himself as Tom and asked me if I remembered my father. I shook my head no, and Tom replied, 'Well, I'm going to be your new daddy, okay? You're going to be okay.' He had this smirk on his face, and I like to think it was a happy look, but honestly it felt like he was hiding something. But I didn't care; I was going to have a home and a dad, and my drums. He promised me a new drumset.

I was only six."

Mind swimming, I slowly retracted from the ball I was in, setting my feet to the ground with a muted thump. I could only gaze at the four of them, looking nostalgic and quiet after explaining their pasts with careful relucatance. I was amazed, but I wasn't pitiful. Because now they're all living lives that they've wanted and fought for for so long. A life that they truly deserve. After a careful moment's deliberation, I asked quietly, "So... you all... are siblings?"

"Not blood-related, but Tom is our legal guardian." Vanessa clarified with a small smile. "So I guess yes, technically we're all siblings."

"I told you I could explain." Kat giggled at me to which I gave an amused twitch of my lips in reply. Watching them give each other small smiles and secret exchanges, I rested my cheek on my hand, propped up on the arm of my chair, and just... watched. Because they were definitely siblings.

Not by blood, but by heart.

--

Truth is: I was really hesitant on putting this up. Recently, I've been getting comments telling me that they were going to stop reading My Little Decoy because it's too cliche and they expected something better. And it hurt.

Especially because I knew that upcoming events like what happened in this chapter and in future chapters are going to be what people call "cliche." But I like to think of it as "cliche with a twist." You see, this whole story is built upon cliche, but with different twists and angles that one might not expect. Sure, it may not seem realistic, but it's a story. And it's my story. So I can do whatever the hell I want. If you want to stop reading, go ahead. Just don't injure my pride because this is a story I'm proud of, okay? No matter what skeptics might think.

That's all I have to say. To those who are going to continue reading this story, I really appreciate you guys being true fans despite what others may think of as "cliche," "unoriginal," and "stupid." Thank you so, so much. And I love you all.

-Isabelle