I sigh, seeing Ian tap away on his phone screen. He doesn't see it but I can see how he finds the number of girls in his DM's as a validation factor. Like how some girls want male validation? Maybe for Ian, it's female validation? I don't know. 

But yeah, I hate this. 

My own phone pings, distracting me from Ian. Unlocking it, my screen pops up with messages from an unknown number. 

'How r u?'

'Ashole?'

'How many times I have to tell you not to block me at Instagram?'

'At least let me see your stories. Just because u don't care doesn't mean I don't.'

'I get it okay, u got new friends so ofc u forget the ol ones.'

'I bet that annoying kitten of yours stops u from texting me.'

"Oh god, Ryle..." I groan. Rubbing my temples, I didn't think Ian would look up from his phone. But the unholy name was enough to perk up Ian. 

"Ryle?" Ian keeps his phone away and takes mine. "He's texting you again?" Ian starts reading the texts and his frown deepens. "The fuck? Annoying kitten?"

"Ignore him. I'll just block him again." That will be the fourth time I'll be blocking Ryle from some or other social media platform. Even though I made it clear that I don't want to keep our friendship anymore, he's adamant about shoving himself in my life time and again. 

He's the type of guy who you would catch in the dark alleys at midnight getting high and betting money with some other junkies. 

Unfortunately, I called him my best friend just a year ago.

"Dude, just look at his texts. Does he even know English? He even spells 'asshole' wrong. Like his grammar is so bad–I can't." Ian rants as a proud grammar nazi. 

"I guess he brought another burner phone for his new customers," I murmur. The last time I saw Ryle, he was growing a thick beard and hid his tanned face with a large hoodie while waiting at the backdoor of some random club. "Is he obsessed with me?"

"Like you were?"

I hit Ian on the head. "Ow." He hits me back. "Truth is always bitter to digest."

"I moved on okay? You don't need to always taunt me about it."

Ian scoffs and starts mimicking a clown version of me. "Oh yeah? Because when I met you were like–oh gosh, Ryle is the best person ever. He's like a protective big brother to me. He was always there for me at my worst times–and those worst times were created by him."

I rub my face to hide my reddening cheeks. Now that I glance back at my younger self gushing over a sociopath, I feel second-hand embarrassment to the core. "Ugh, shut up!"

Ian chuckles, his fingers tapping the phone screen. "Let me just reply and block him..." I peek over his shoulder.

'Yes, it's my annoying but cute kitten who stops me from texting druggies. And please, stop acting as if you care. Because if you did, you wouldn't have tried to turn me into yourself a year ago.'

I gasp as Ian hits the sent button. "That was one hell of a reply."

I still remember how after I broke up with Gina, the first person I went to was Ryle. Even though he didn't give me a shoulder to cry on, he did recommend some nice powders that I could snort. Luckily, before choosing one, I went to Ian. And I still thank god that Ian was there with me at that time and helped me to think rationally. After I told him about Ryle's 'work' and his remedies for my broken heart, he gave me some piece of brain. He made me realize how Ryle shouldn't be the one who I call my best friend. 

A finger snap in front of my face brings me back from the past. 

"Where are you lost?" Ian asks, bringing his face closer to mine with a tilt. "Thinking of the past?" He squints his eyes as if he can see the reflection of what I'm thinking in my orbs. 

I smile and rub our noses together. "How can I when I have my annoying but cute kitten to entertain me?"

Ian chuckles. "Whatever. Now c'mon. Let's go upstairs and play some games." He doesn't give me a chance to put the plates into the wash basin as he drags me upstairs, skipping a step at a time. 

On the second floor, there are three rooms. One for each of the family members. The first white door is of Ian's. I open the door and see Evan sitting on the black couch adjacent to the bed. There is a small LED TV on the wall opposite the couch which Evan is desperately trying to switch on. I always wonder why the TV is in front of the couch and not in front of the bed. What an odd way to arrange your furniture. But then again, it's Ian's room we are talking about.

"How dare you touch my PlayStation?" Ian erupts like a volcano from behind me and snatches the console from Evan's hands.

"Why can't I? Mom said I can play with it too." Evan whines like a toddler whose milk bottle is taken away.

"But it was my birthday gift and I decide who can play with it."

"Matthew please teach your friend to share his things please!" Evan stomps his foot as he gets up.

I sigh. "Ian let him play–"

"No! The last time I did that, he shitted on it." Ian snaps.

"That was when I was three! Now I'm thirteen!"

"Doesn't matter. I just never like sharing my things. And that includes you." Ian sits back on the sofa with one leg up. On the other hand, Evan tugs his hair in utter irritation as he rambles on about how unlucky he is to have Ian as his brother.

I decide to stay away from their 'brotherly' fights– like I always do.

"C'mon Matthew. I've set it up." Ian calls me and I go to him after closing the door.

"So you will let Matthew play? You just said you don't like sharing things." Evan mocks at the irony. 

"Well, Matthew is an exception." Ian gives a cheeky grin that fuels Evan's anger. 

He takes the other seat on the small couch. "There's no space for him though."

Without getting irked, Ian calmly gets up and pulls me down on his seat. He then proceeds to sit on my lap. "We know how to adjust." Ian's smile grows longer while I just sit stunned for a while. 

Evan groans and gets away from us. "Y'all are so gay." In no time, he's out of this room.

"Huh. That was easy." 

Ian then opens my legs and sits in between, resting his back against my chest. "You know there's space beside me to sit now," I say as I take the controller that he passes. 

"But this is more comfy."

***