Brandon was shifting uncomfortably in my bed. I put my chips aside so I can listen to him clearly but mostly because I couldn't hear well with all the crunching sounds my mouth was producing.

      He was staring at the floor the whole time, too embarrassed to look at me in the eye. I feel a bit guilty for having to let him tell me about his life.

     He took a deep breath and quietly released it. "You already know I'm an orphan right?"

     I nodded.

       "Well," he said, like that word alone made him squeeze it out of himself. "What I'm about to tell you is what happened when my real parents were still alive." He showed me a faint smile, but the melancholic look in his eyes pricked my heart.

     I nodded again and motioned for him to continue. "When I was eight, my parents and I lived in a lively neighborhood. The adults and my parents got along, the mailman was friendly and the other kids were all my friends, even if our age gaps were too wide."

     Brandon was closing his eyes, like he was visualizing the past. It seemed like a pleasant memory for him, since he looked calm and a smile was even tugging on his lips. I smiled too, thinking about how adorable he probably looked when he was a kid.

     Then his smile vanished and his lips formed a thin line when he continued with the rest of his story. "It was summer. We were watching a movie one night, a scary one, since mom loved horror films. We heard unusual sounds, like glass shattering, loud footsteps and something getting dragged on the floor. When we paused the movie to listen to it clearly, the sounds stopped. So we thought they were all just sound effects from the movie and we were just getting paranoid because dad and I can't handle scary shit."

     I was breathing deeply and slowly, mentally preparing myself to listen what's about to come next.

       "Mom even made fun of us. Said we were sissies or something," he hid a grin. "And then it happened."

     I swallowed hard. I think I'm hyperventilating, and he's just starting. I can't help it. I'm afraid to know. Yet I want to know. But -

     Shh Mira. Shh.

       "I felt like something was wrong - I didn't feel safe at the moment. Not because of the movie, but because of something... Strange and unexplainable. So I stood up and went to the kitchen. I swore I heard people talking there. Mom was too absorbed in the movie to even notice I'd walked off and dad was, well, absorbed in partially covering his eyes on mom's shoulder."

     I broke a helpless grin. I see the resemblance from father and son.

       "All the lights were off. Mom wanted a real spooky atmosphere to match the mood of the movie. It took a lot of guts just to walk to the kitchen. It was scary as shit."

     And I see how opposite his mom was to him and his dad. And how scarily similar his mom's tastes and my mine are.

     Brandon's face grew dark, and I knew we were getting close to the important part.

       "At first I was relieved. There was nobody in the kitchen. But what was I thinking? I couldn't see because of the darkness. I was about to leave when I heard some utensils fall. The sounds were pretty noticeable. Then all of a sudden, this hand clamped my mouth shut. My screams were muffled, I almost pissed myself from the shock."

     Oh, God.

       "There were two men in the kitchen. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them arguing. They were blaming each other for being too loud, and for revealing their selves to me. My parents noticed all the noise, so they went to the kitchen."

     He lowered his head, slowly burying his face in his hands. He was trying to hide. I felt saddened for some reason.

     "I was glad they were coming. I thought they were going to save me - but then I realized something. If these guys saw my parents, they'll hurt them. So I tried screaming, I tried to tell my parents to run and call the cops. It was impossible. All that came out of my mouth were muffles. I just made the situation worse. I was a stupid, ignorant little kid."

       "Dad turned on the lights and I can't even describe the shock and horror on their faces when they saw me. My eyes adjusted to the brightness and then I just noticed those men were wearing masks. They were burglars. And they got found out. Dad tried to calmly tell them to let go of me, even though his fists were shaking. He was resisting the urge to punch them because they had me. They didn't listen. There were yelling and cursing - I don't know. I was close to fainting that time. Then those guys pulled out guns. I was crying so hard, mom was telling me it was gonna be okay but I know it wasn't. They were gonna kill us."

     I listened quietly as he continued with the story. I was amazed he could tell this story so calmly, until I saw his shoulders. His tremulous shoulders. And I had just noticed how his voice was shaking, like he was about to cry.

     What are you supposed to do in this situation?

       "Dad took a step forward with his hands up. He was still trying to convince them to let me go. I think one of them got scared when dad moved, so he shot him."

     I winced and covered my mouth after hearing that part of the story. Maybe I was visualizing it too much, because I seriously heard a gun fire after he said shot.

     I know Brandon was just forcing all his words out. This story was too hard to tell without breaking down, but he was doing a good job at keeping his composure - somehow.

       "I managed to release myself but only for a split-second. I saw my dad on the floor. He wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving? That bullet can't kill him instantly... Right? My d-dad was stronger than that."

     His voice was quickly breaking, and it was getting smaller until it became silent. He was quiet for a few seconds, probably trying to find his voice. I didn't know what to do in this situation. I don't know the right thing to say either. I was so useless.

     He slowly raised his head and looked at me. And that quick look broke my heart. His eyes were so glassy and he was just trying his best to keep his mouth shut so he wouldn't break down.

    bBefore I could even hug him unconsciously, he buried his face on my shoulder, ashamed to show his face.

     I patted his shoulder as he clutched my shirt so hard I thought it was gonna tear. But at the moment, I really didn't mind.

       "I was screaming and screaming and screaming. I thought I was gonna go deaf by my own voice. One of them slapped me but I couldn't. I should've. They grabbed mom by the hair and asked her where we kept the safe. Mom said that if she told them, they should leave, but they made no promises. They kicked her over and over, annoyed that she wouldn't tell them until they let me go. They were so fucked up. They weren't people. They were animals - demons. I couldn't stop crying. My mom was getting beaten and I was so helpless. I couldn't help her."

     He paused again. I felt him wipe his eyes on my shirt. He pulled me close, letting go of my shirt and hugging me by the waist. Right now, he looked like a frail little boy, afraid of the world. I continued rubbing his back to calm him down somehow. It may have been pointless, but I needed to do something. I didn't know what else to do.

       "They got sick of my crying so they decided to tie a cloth around my mouth or something, but they couldn't find one in our kitchen. The bastards got resourceful in that moment because they stuffed the thing nearest to them in my mouth." He took a deep breath just before releasing it exasperatedly. "It was chili. They stuffed my mouth with chili to shut me up."

     Oh shit. Oh shit. This is where it all began. Shit, I never would've thought... I had no idea. No, nobody had any idea this was the cause of Brandon's ultimate hate for spices. I feel so horrible now. And a feel a deep hate for those bastards that did this to him. Shit. Shit.

       "Mom was crying. She didn't want to see me get abused like that even though she was getting abused herself. She barely stood up and landed a hard hit on one of them. And as a result for her heroic actions, the guy who stuffed my mouth shot her too. And she fell. For good."

     I was sniffling. God, I was crying too. It was so horrible. His childhood is so horrible and he didn't even deserve that. His family didn't deserve that. But those men deserved to go to hell.

       "The next thing I knew, the cops came. I can't remember what happened during that time, all I can remember is the sight of my motionless parents on the floor, and the paramedics carrying their bodies in stretchers - but they were already gone, and nothing can bring them back."

     Brandon sobbed on my shoulder and I had to force myself not to cry. I have to be the strong one here. No wonder he was so hesitant to tell Leo or anybody else for that matter. His childhood was fucked up. I never would've imagined that the cheerful Brandon had to go through those serious shit. Shit.

     I can't stop the profanities overflowing from my mouth. I'm just so sad and so mad for him and I have no idea what to say so let me just cuss. Shit. Fuck.

       "When morning came, I was an orphan. A psychologist came to visit me a few times a week to check on my mental health. She said most children who've undergone such traumatic experiences lost their sense of reason. She said I was lucky I was still sane and managed to get off with just a negative reaction to anything spicy. Because every time I taste that flavor, I'm reminded of that incident. Every fucking time. Even until now. I really can't help it Mira, my body rejects the mere taste of it. I don't want to hate it since it was my mom's favorite flavor, but I really, really can't help it."

     He sounded like he was pleading with that fact. Like he was begging me to forgive him because he can't like the same thing I like. If that's what he's thinking then here's what I'd tell him: bullshit.

     He didn't have to apologize. He didn't do anything wrong. I stroked his hair gently before planting a kiss on his head. "Of course you can't help it. It's not your fault. Stop blaming yourself, okay?"

     He was quiet again. I stayed patient until he decided to speak again. My shoulder was damp with his tears now. He apologized and his ears flushed red but I said I didn't mind it at all.

     Moments passed and he seemed to recover bit by bit. He never let go of me. It was like he was clinging to me for dear life, and if he let go for even just a second, I'd disappear. I was beginning to think he thought I was his mom. We were so alike, in so many ways. And I only heard about her now.

       "Remember when I told you I covered for my mom when she got her period at the mall?" He suddenly asked.

       "Yeah?" I replied.

     He smiled at me warmly. "That's my foster mom. The one who took me in after my parents' burial."

     I just looked at him, slowly sinking that information in my brain. I see...

       "None of my relatives wanted to take custody of me. It was a long, boring argument in court. Until the officer that saved me from those men decided to take me in, said that if nobody in my family rejected that suggestion, he'd raise me himself. He was the only one there who wanted to take me in. My relatives agreed and signed the papers, this and that happened, and then, I became the adoptive son of a kind officer his nice wife."

     Anger boiled inside me again. His relatives were pretty shitty too. How dare they ignore a kid in that situation? And they call themselves family. Family my ass.

       "You must really hate your relatives," I mumbled, gritting my teeth. I was suddenly reminded of my father. It sucks to know that the people you're related to by blood are the first to turn their backs on you.

     Brandon shook his head, looking strangely calm now, for some reason. He had already lifted his head from my shoulder and he was looking at me face to face. I couldn't stop looking at his eyes. They were glassy, undeniably beautiful... Like blue crystals.

       "Nah. We weren't that close with our other relafives. Both my parents didn't have siblings, so the relatives I mentioned earlier are... Distant or something. I literally have no idea who they are, but the police thought it was best to contact the nearest kin. And I'm glad they didn't take me in. They looked boring and grumpy. I love my current parents. They're the reason why I got to stay sane and optimistic in this messed-up world."

     I felt a smile creeping in my face. I loved it whenever he spoke fondly of his parents. Whether he was related to them in blood or not, it was obvious in his eyes that he loved them, just as much as he loved his real parents.

       "Well," Brandon said, his tone almost back to normal now. "That concludes book one. Now you have to download the second book to learn about the rest of the story."

     I knitted my brows while tilting my head, confused. What was he saying? "What?"

     He grinned at me, the familiar twinkle in his eyes met my puzzled ones. Ah. He's back. "It's a trilogy."

     I snorted. What the hell. He can still joke in this situation. This guy is definitely something. I smiled. I want to know him more, so I'll play along for him. I know he wants to tell me. His ways of opening up are just... Unique. "How do I download the second book?"

     He looked at me like he couldn't believe I asked. I sent him a weird look. "Isn't it obvious already? It's not a free download. You have to purchase the second book."

     What...

     I sighed. Let's just get this thing over with. "What do you want me to do Brandon."

     He grinned. I knew what he wanted by that grin alone. "One hug, two kisses on the cheeks and one kiss on the lips."

     I chuckled at his childish conditions but complied to his requests anyway. I know he's just trying to lighten up the mood. So I gave him a huge hug, kissed his left cheek then his right, and then gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

     We smiled at each other silly after that. It was kind of cute actually. I looked horrible with my tear-stained face but he looked adorable. Still, I think we looked cute.

     Oh my God did I just admit that?

     He made a ka-ching sound before clapping his hands. "Thank you for purchasing the second book. Now on with the story."

     I tried to control my giggles. Damn this guy knew how to change any mood quickly.

     I lied my back against the headboard of my bed as Brandon made himself comfortable by taking one of my pillows and placing it on his lap.

       "The second book fast-forwards time a bit, so here I'm twelve now."

     I nodded, eager to listen to the rest of the story. He proceeded.

       "This was the time where I became the biggest bully in school."

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A/N: Chapter 22 is fixed now. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, ignore this note and proceed.

Mwaa