Chapter Seven

Grant's POV

Grant wandered about the kitchen, looking for what to snack on. Cassie always had an abundance of snacks nearby, sweet snacks, salty snacks, fruits posed as snacks, nuts posed as snacks....there was a lot to choose from. But it wasn't the snacks that were his problem.

The human in the house with him was the problem.

Grant felt his entire mood sour from the moment he received the phone call from the unknown number that turned out to be his beloved brother, Andrew. Grant had believed that he'd had closed the chapter on his brother forever, and he'd hoped never to hear from him again.

But fate had a way of playing games on him, didn't it? Andrew had shown up looking the same as from years back, filling Grant with an unexplainable sense of cold hatred.

Grant stared into the fridge for a long time, the cool air wafting around him in soft wisps of cold white smoke. He knew he shouldn't keep the door open too long, Cassie was always reminding him of that but who exactly cared? He paid all the bills, didn't he? His eyes moved up and down the shelves, stopping at a packet of dried bananas. He hadn't tried those before, so he took the packet.

He didn't like it.

The sweet crunchy banana tasted vile on his tongue. He spat it into the sink and threw the bag back into the fridge. He sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. He walked out of the kitchen and to his room, hoping to get some work done.

He had skipped work. He felt as if his internal clock had been scrambled. He wasn't used to skipping work, not for any reason at all. The company wouldn't run itself, the staff wouldn't coordinate themselves, and he wasn't one to trust others to do his work for him. But he had to sit out today, to help his beloved brother settle in. And also to show to the little Miss Perfect that he was a loving brother.

It disturbed him and made him feel annoyed.

He shut the door to his room, locking it as he did. He took his laptop and sat at his desk, hoping to get some work done. As he opened his email, he was bombarded with pings and dings, emails in their numbers dropping. He sat up straighter and began to open them individually, replying to each one.

It was evening by the time he could say he'd done satisfactory work. He could hear faint noises around the house, maybe little Miss Perfect had returned home or maybe it was his beloved brother. Grant found that he wasn't exactly in the mood to visit her, so he continued working.

"Sir?"

He paused and listened. He could tell it was Cassie who had spoken.

"Come in." He said.

Cassie walked in, her footsteps light. "Dinner is served, sir. It's currently six forty-five."

"Thank you, Cassie. I'll be down soon, keep dinner warm."

She left silently. Grant snapped his laptop shut and pulled open a drawer. About to return the laptop to its resting position, a piece of paper caught his eye. He pulled it out. It was a picture, crudely drawn with watercolor. Grant stared at it, wondering who would have put a crappy watercolor painting in his drawer. The longer he stared at the picture, the more it became clearer.

He crumpled the painting, anger making him clench his jaw tight. He couldn't believe how that piece of paper had found its way to him. He had gotten rid of anything and everything that even reminded him of his brother. How On Earth did it get here?!

Could it be that his brother had put it there on purpose, for what reason exactly?! To rile him up?! Grant rose from the desk and began to pace, his mind racing wildly. All of a sudden he was confronted with memories he didn't want to ever remember.

**Flashback**

Their birthday was yesterday. As usual, it was a lavish affair.

The Houston brothers just turned double digits, they had just come of age by Houston traditions. The party featured expensive interior design, everything made to suit each twin's tastes. Grant was more on the darker colors and Andrew had always preferred brighter colors. The cake was made by an international pastry chef their father had flown in from France. The food was taken care of by another international catering company that served the likes of celebrities and heads of state. The presents came in mountains and mountains and kept coming well until the party was over. The happy birthday song had been sung by a well-known girl band.

Grant had enjoyed every second of it, the camera clicks, the adoration of people, the gifts, the attention. It was his kind of thing, and he loved it.

But as usual, something had to go wrong. Andrew went missing halfway into the party, throwing their parents and all the guests into a full-blown panic mode. They abandoned all festivities to look for Andrew.

Grant stood in a corner, watching the mad frenzy, and he boiled with anger. His hands were folded into tight fists, a glare on his boyish face. Everything was going so fine until that attention-seeking twin of his decided to make a big scene. He was overcome with anger, wondering why everyone was making such a fuss over nothing. Andrew had vanished, so? It's not like he had been kidnapped or anything. They were running around like headless chickens, some making calls, it was very maddening to watch.

They wouldn't do this for me, Grant thought bitterly.

"What are you doing?!" Someone screamed at him. His eyes focused in front of him on his mother racing up to him. She had a worried look on her face, and Grant hated it. She ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders. "Your brother is missing!"

"So?" Grant spat.

Their mother recoiled as if he'd slapped her. "What do you mean 'so?!' Help us find him at once!"

"I don't want to," Grant said, jutting out his chin. She pulled her hand back and slapped him across the face. She hadn't put much force into it, but it was enough to turn his cheek red.

"You will stop this selfishness at once and help us find your brother!"

Grant stared at her long and hard. "Fine."

She turned and joined their father. Grant sighed and went in the opposite direction. He wished that they wouldn't find Andrew, that he was gone for good. Then maybe then, their parents will pay more attention to him. He walked out of the house and deeper into the woods that surrounded their estate. He got to the largest tree around and climbed it. As he was climbing he heard a rustle above him.

He looked up and saw his brother.

"What are you doing here?" Grant asked, not bothering to hide his glare of displeasure.

Andrew shrugged. He looked like he had been crying, and his hair was messy. "Nothing much."

Grant sat on a wide branch, his eyes looking at the forest floor beneath them. He wondered if this view was what the birds enjoyed before they did their business on passersby. He wondered what would happen if he acted like a bird, it wouldn't be good. Their mother would hit him again.

"You know everyone is searching for you at the party," Grant said.

"Is that so?" Andrew replied, his voice mellow. "I made something for you."

Grant turned. Andrew was holding a flat present wrapped in a baby blue wrapping sheet. He took the present and opened it. Inside was a watercolor painting, it was crude, and lacking refinement. But the figure in the painting was unmistakable.

It was Grant.

"It's ugly." Grant scoffed. "You didn't get my nose right." It wasn't true, Andrew had gotten his features perfectly, even down to the smug smile he always wore. Grant of course would never admit that. He was too proud. He folded the portrait and put it in his pocket.

"Is that so," Andrew said and tried to move closer. "I'll make it again, this time maybe you'll model for me."

Grant glared at him hotly. "Forget about it. You've messed up already."

Andrew pouted. "Where's my present?"

"Of course, I didn't get you anything. What did you expect?!"

"You're so mean!"

"I know that. Both of us don't have to be nice right?"

Andrew stared at him wordlessly. "You're a nice person, Grant."

Grant rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm also the king."

Two hours later, after a period of deafening silence, Andrew announced that he was returning to the house. The both of them jumped down from the tree and headed back home. It was getting dark and the path to the house was lit with fairy lights. As they neared the house they could hear their mother's voice shouting on the phone to someone, probably a guard or someone. She caught sight of them and ran up to them, instantly throwing her arms around Andrew.

"You're okay! Thank goodness nothing happened to you!" She cried out, showering his face with kisses. Grant watched the display with a blank face. He couldn't remember the last time that his mother had shown this kind of affection to him. Has it ever happened before? Probably when they were still babies. He could hardly recall.

"I'm fine," Andrew said. "I was at the tree in the woods. Grant found me."

Their mother paused her emotional crying and turned to Grant. "Oh," She said and wiped her eyes. She offered him a small smile. "Thank you for finding your brother."

Grant hated her too. He gave her his sweetest smile. "Of course, mother."

***Flashback end***

Grant threw the portrait into the shredder. He hadn't forgotten, not one bit. How could he ever forget the hand he had been dealt with? He walked out of his room and headed to the dinner table.

The coming month was going to be eventful. He was sure of it.