Chapter 2 - Sang
It is another 45 minute wait until the moving gets here. While I wait, I decide to explore my new home. There's a large open space for the living room as soon as you walk in, with a nicely sized kitchen alcove off to the left. Double doors beside the kitchen open up to a linen closet, the shelves spaced evenly. To the right of the front door, there's a hallway leading to the bare bedroom and bathroom, one on each side, with another small closet to the back.
I drop my bags off in my new room and spend the rest of my time sitting in the middle of the living room, looking out of the wide windows that face the city. Pushing my finger into my lower lip, I consider if I should really let Corey know when the truck comes. He hasn't done anything against me. In fact, he's been nicer than most people have my entire life.
The shrill ringing of a phone snaps me out of my musings. I follow its sound into the kitchen and pick up the phone whose base is attached to the wall.
"Hello?"
"Ms. Sorenson?" A female voice says on the other line.
"Ye— yes?"
"This is Amy, down at the front desk? There's a deliver here for you."
"Oh! Okay, thank you, I'll be right down."
I hang up and grab my keys off the kitchen counter. On my way out of the apartment, I take a look at Corey's door and make a decision that will probably change the rest of my life. I raise my hand to knock but end up chickening out.
I can't do it. I'm not brave enough.
Just as I'm turning away from the door, it opens. I turn back in surprise and am met with someone who is definitely not Corey.
The man in the doorway is a bit shorter but still taller than me. Broad shoulders fill the space of the red t-shirt he wears, and he has the most astonishing eyes I've ever seen. I've heard of some people having heterochromatic eyes, but I've never met someone who had them. Although, that's not saying much since I haven't really been allowed to interact with people. Blue and green eyes stare at me and I'm just... stuck.
Oh God, did he say something? Was he talking to me while I was just staring at him like some kind of idiot?
"I'm sorry?" I blurt, wincing internally when my voice hitches, making my statement a question.
He smiles and it's breathtaking.
I think my heart just stopped.
"It's alright. Are you Sang? I'm Marc, Corey's friend. Is the truck here?"
Corey told his friends about me?
"Oh, umm, yes. Amy, from downstairs? She just called."
"Great. I'll go grab Corey and Brandon. Give me a sec."
He disappears and closes the door behind him while I internally freak out. Who's Brandon? God, what in the world did I just get myself into? My mother would've- I stop that thought cold. My mother can't do anything. Because she's not here. They left me. They all left. No more mother, or father, or Marie. No more punishments. No more isolation. I'm free... I'm actually free. I can do whatever I want but... what do I want to do? The door opening helps me focus into the now. I can worry about the future later.
I look up and see Corey walk out, only, it's not Corey. The eyes are wrong. They're the same cerulean blue, but there's a sadness in them that makes me want to fix it. Before I can realize what I'm doing, I open my mouth and ask, "Are you, Brandon?"
My question seems to shock him. I suppose a lot of people can't tell the difference between identical twins. The different clothes help a bit.
"Whoa, Sang. How'd you know?" Marc asks as he comes out of the apartment with the real Corey.
"She can tell?" Corey asks Marc with a puzzled look. "How can you tell?"
"She can't," Brandon says, with the same voice and everything. "You're wearing the same thing you wore earlier."
"Yeah, but how could she know he didn't change since she only saw one of you?" Marc asks him smugly.
They all look to me as if trying to solve a puzzle and I start to fidget under the weight of their combined gazes.
Brandon notices first and gives me an apologetic look before turning away to walk down the hall.
"Come on," he says. "The delivery truck isn't going to wait all day."
He grabs my hand as he walks past and I tense at the foreign motion. Brandon notices and looks down at me with a small frown marring his beautiful face. Giving my hand a reassuring squeeze, he gently pulls me towards the elevator. I match his pace and try to relax little. He doesn't release me until we reach the delivery truck parked in front of the building.
I try not to let the disappointment show at the loss of his hand in mine. What exactly is there for me to be disappointed about? He doesn't know me. I don't know him. But still... the feeling. It was nice.
The delivery men help us load everything into the freight elevator that's only a couple feet away from the regular ones. There are padded drop cloths against the walls to keep anything from scaring the metal. There are actually more boxes than I expected. I thought my father would only send my old bed, dresser, and bookcase, but it looks like there's enough to furnish the entire apartment. And everything looks new!
After everything is loaded, they have me sign the delivery slip and all the information is correct. There goes the slim thought that they had the wrong address. I guess my dad cared a little more than I gave him credit for. I hope he knows how much I appreciate this.
Once everything's inside the apartment, I try to tell the guys that I can take care of the unpacking myself, but they aren't hearing it.
"Come on, Sang," Marc says, pulling a box cutter out of nowhere. "You didn't actually expect us to just leave you to do all of this by yourself, did you?"
Um, yeah. Actually I did. They've already been super nice to me. Helping me bring everything upstairs and into the apartment. I'd hate to take up any more of their time.
"Guys, this could take a while," I try again. "I'd hate to take you away from the rest of your day."
"Don't worry about us Sang." Corey drops his arm around my shoulder and I tense up momentarily before looking up into his eyes and relaxing. "Brandon?"
"They're on their way," Brandon responds, putting his phone back in his pocket.
Whoa, whoa, who's they? "Who's on their way?"
"Two of our friends," Brandon answers. "They'll help us set up everything. You just tell us where you want it, okay short stuff?" He ruffles my hair and I giggle at the familiar action.
The room goes quiet and I look up into stunned faces all around. I cut my laugh off, my eyes widening at all of the attention. Marc gives me a mind-numbing smile, and I can only just find the brain function to return the action. Looking around, I see Brandon and Corey staring at me with matching grins.
"Why is everyone smiling?"
"You, short stuff."
Before I can ask Brandon what he means by that, there's a knock on the door. Corey removes his arm from around my neck, and yet again I try not to let the disappointment be obvious. For someone like me, these little gestures mean a lot. Any hand not raised in punishment means a lot.
Corey opens the door and I take a step back in self-preservation. Standing in my doorway are two rather large and scary looking men. Neither are taller than the twins, but still, at five foot three, everyone's taller than me.
The one on the right has long dark hair that flows down to his chin. His complexion is that of possible Native American descent, with almond-shaped brown eyes hidden behind black-rimmed glasses. He has this authoritative air that makes me nervous. The man next to him has thick brown hair cropped short, the front sticking up a bit. His brown eyes are intimidating, doubly so when you add in the lip ring and two earrings in his left ear. Tattoos run up his muscular arms, fully showcased in the black tank top he has on, leaving little to the imagination.
These are their friends?
Hands land on my shoulders and I jump at the contact. My hand fly's to my chest as I try to calm my racing heart. My eyes are wide as saucers as I stare at the two men entering my apartment.
"Sorry, Sang," Marc's smooth voice says from behind me. "Didn't mean to scare you. These are our friends, Raven and Axel. They're here to help."
Each one lifts their hand when their name is called so I can tell who is who.
"Hello, Sang," the one called Raven says with a thick Russian accent.
"Nice to meet you, Sang," Axel says. "Where do you want us to start?"
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