Chapter 5

POV: Harmony Winters

My twelve-year-old brother, Mason, had showed up in my bedroom where I was rehearsing my lines for the next commercial advertisement I was to star in. He was wearing a sullen expression, and I could tell already that he needed something from me.

“Yes, Mason? What do you want this time?” I asked, bored of his usual demands.

“Why do you always assume that I want something from you?” He retorted, avoiding my gaze.

I shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you always want something from me,” I replied, wearing a small smile on my face.

He sneered.

“Now, don’t be shy. Just tell your big sister what it is that you want and she’ll consider granting your wishes,” I said, staring at him with a warm expression written on my face.

“My ball...”

“You want another ball? Did something happen to the one I got you two weeks ago?” I asked, without waiting for him to complete his statement.

“It’s not like that,” He said, fiddling with his fingers.

I rolled my eyes, as I folded my arms underneath my breasts. “How is it like then?” I asked.

“I was just bouncing it all over the place while returning from the basketball court, and it got into the neighbour’s garden. As a punishment, he seized it from me,” Mason explained.

“And why did he do that? Did you hit him with the ball by chance?” I asked.

He shook his head, giving me a negative response.

“So, why did he have to do that? It was just a simple mistake, not so?” I asked, and stood up, without even bothering to listen to his opinion on the matter.

“Where are you going to?” He asked, looking up at me.

“I’m going to get your ball,” I said, slipping on my feathery flip-flops.

“Harm, but the man is scary,” He objected.

“He might be scary, but I’m sure he is not as scary as your big sister,” I told him with a wink, stepping out of the bedroom.

A broad smile, exposing his dental braces, appeared on his face, as he followed me out to the living room.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just stay here and wait for me,” I said, then went outside as soon as he had nodded his head, signalling that he was going to do as I had asked.

Stepping outside, I headed straight away to my nearest neighbour’s apartment. I hadn’t noticed any strange or scary-looking man like the one that I had seen the day before, and I had been seeing him for the very first time.

He had put on a flowing white robe and had also worn jean trousers underneath it. On his feet were white canvases and his eyes embraced very thick glasses, which made him look like an alien who had lost his way in this world. He also had bushy heavy beards that were really long and an eyesore.

I didn’t even pay him so much attention or care about how he looked. However, if he thought he could just come suddenly out of the blue to oppress my brother, he was in for a big fight. No one harassed my little brother and got away with it. No one.

There were low whispers coming from inside the house and I couldn’t quite make out the conversation that was going on. I tapped thrice on the door, then looked slightly around, waiting for the child oppressor to come out so that I could give him a piece of my mind.

When the doors opened however, the words I had been aching to say once I met with the man one on one, were nowhere to be found. It was as though someone had cut off my tongue, because for the very first time, my sharp tongue seemed to be paralysed.

What was more was the fact that the guy standing at the door also seemed to be very shocked upon seeing my face. A pregnant silence fell upon us as we both held each other’s eyes, with our mouths opened wide in astonishment.

“YOU!” We said in unison after several moments had passed, with our index fingers pointing at each other.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, eyeing me with doubts expressed on his face.

“I live in this estate. What are you doing here?” I retorted.

“I live in this estate,” He responded, shocking me all the more.

“What? You liar!” I accused, unable to believe both my eyes and my ears.

He scoffed. “Funny how you have the audacity to call me a liar when you are no more than a stalker,” He said, embracing the look of disdain as he eyed me all the more.

I glared at him, with anger making my blood boil. “Stalker? Why would you say that?” I inquired, as I clenched my fists.

“You followed me all the way here, didn’t you?” He retorted.

I gave a broken laughter, surprised by his level of stupidity. “And why, Mr gold-digger, would I follow you all the way here in a pair of shorts and a tank top?” I fired at him.

He shrugged. “Maybe because, Lipstick girl, you just wanted me to believe that you weren’t stalking me. Pervert,” He stated.

“That’s enough. I have heard more than enough from that rotten hole you call a mouth,” I declared, getting angrier with each passing second.

“They say the truth is bitter, and that’s why you’ve had more than enough because you can’t handle hearing the truth,” He said to me, with a smirk playing around his lips.

My fists clenched tighter and I felt like throwing a punch in his eyes, as anger surged through my veins. “You think all this is funny, but it isn’t. I am not going to stand here and trade words with you about whether or not I actually live in this apartment, since it is quite clear that you are never going to accept my explanation being the dumbass that you are,” I said, deciding not to let my anger get the best of me.

“Sorry?”

I ignored his question asking for repetition, and decided to just go straight to the point. Clearing my throat, I spoke up. “Anyways, I am here to see your boss,” I said, eyeing him mischievously.

“My boss?” He asked, looking confused.

“Yes, your boss. Since you’re all in for honesty, please, don’t lie that you are the Lord of this mansion. I know your type very well and I can say for sure that you work for whoever pays the rent of this house,” I said, wearing a knowing smile on my face.

He began to laugh awkwardly. “And why do you think that I am working for anyone?” He asked.

“Isn’t that quite clear, Mr gold-digger? You extorting five hundred dollars from me is enough reason to believe that you work for people. In fact, I am hundred percent sure that you can’t afford this luxury. If you could, you wouldn’t have acted so pathetically yesterday,” I said.

“What exactly are you arguing over with the visitor?” A stout figure asked, coming into view.

“Finally. Are you the boss here?” I asked, looking away from the annoying human who couldn’t seem to stay the hell out of my life.

“Boss?” The stout guy asked, looking even more confused than the gold-digger.

I rolled my eyes, already running out of the energy I had had while coming to the apartment. “I guess both of you work for the same man. I’m in search of a man with heavy beards,” I explained.

“Who the hell is that?” The gold-digger asked, looking at his supposed colleague.

“Oh. That must be the realtor,” The stout guy said, realising who I wanted to see.

“I see. Um... do you know if he took a ball from a little kid?” I inquired, worried that I had probably made a mistake.

“I don’t think he has the time for that. Why do you ask?” The stout guy asked.

“It appears that your realtor took my brother’s basketball. If you don’t mind, can you search the place and give it back to me?” I asked.

“Now, that’s just absurd. Why would he take a ball from someone he doesn’t even know? Go back and ask your brother who really took his goddamn cheap ball which I don’t get why you’re making a fuss over,” The gold-digger said, all in one breath.

I scoffed. “Are you freaking kidding me? I know my brother doesn’t lie and you have to go in there and get back that ball this very minute, or...”

“Or what? You’ll get the police to come with a search warrant and search for a ball which they sell anywhere and everywhere?” He cut in, staring at me like I was some sort of crazy person.

“If that’s what it will take to prove that you are a thief and a child oppressor, I might very well do just that,” I said.

I had barely completed my statement when I heard Mason call my name. “Harm!” He said, and when I looked, he was waving at me with the ball in his hands.

“Is that yours?” I asked, trying to confirm from him.

“Yeah. Mr Martyrs stopped by and returned it to me,” He said.

I looked back at my new neighbours, then pushed a strand of my hair at the back of my hair, filled with so much shame and embarrassment. Dammit, Mason!

“Don’t you owe us an apology?” The gold-digger asked, with his arms crossed.

“I clearly misunderstood you. I’m sorry,” I managed to mutter, and before shame and embarrassment could swallow me whole, I turned around and began walking away with my brother.

I felt like sinking into the ground hearing his mocking laughter as I walked off hastily. Even after committing a capital offence that could have me thrown into jail for a lifetime, I hadn’t felt this much shame.

Why did he have to make me feel so pathetic and miserable? No one had the right to make me feel that way, especially not a gold-digger who was obviously squatting with a friend. No one!