Chapter 3
I don’t leave the house, unless I have to. We have everything we need here; a pool, a gym, a shooting range. It’s literally a mansion. We converted it from an old Catholic Girls’ school, and made some new additions. It’s lovely, with ivy growing up the stonework.
Our lives outside our home are bizarre and complicated. Nothing’s ever easy, and I hate it. Thanks to our insane parents, my brother’s name is not actually William, or Billy either, and neither is mine, but we try to keep things simple, so that’s what he goes by.
I go by ‘Austen’. It’s not my name either.
We have two bodyguards, Hayden and Kane.
Hayden is the light-haired, olive-skinned one that looks like a golden retriever and Kane is the dark-haired, tanned one that looks like an enormous puppy.
I don’t understand why my brother hired them and what they are doing here.
Don’t get me wrong, they’re great guys, they are just a little too much.
Kane worked on our estate when we were younger and came back to work for us after a few years in the army, and he recommended Hayden after they did a few tours together.
They live in the guest houses, and they’ll kill anyone who tries to get in, which is good, I guess.
I just hate how my brother makes them go to school with me.
I read a lot, study, play music and walk the dogs. Some days are so quiet I feel like I’m the last man on Earth.
I have classes most days. My brother and I are both in our freshman year at the local college, after a gap year.
Given that college was never in question for us and always a heavy expectation, in a line of heavy expectations, I think we are doing okay.
I don’t hate it, but I do sometimes wish I could feel more than this deep, yawning apathy to the whole thing.
I study law because I have to, and history and because in another life, it’s a subject I might have loved.
William picked business. Well, he had business picked for him.
We were missing for high school. By design. Nobody knew where we were. Even our famous, rich, piece-of-work birth-father. He pretended he did to save face, but we were in the fucking wind, with only our trusted inner circle knowing where we were or why.
We had one momentary lapse in judgement, and we are still paying for it.
This is the theme of our whole lives. Last year, we were lured by an old classmate to a superyacht for an afternoon.
It was a setup. Paparazzi shots of one of us (me, but who can tell?) pushed us back into the spotlight.
Once the French tabloids figured out we were James Blazey’s sons, the photos went to the British tabloids, and sent lusty socialites into a frenzy.
James tried to contact us after that. Yuck. A few weeks later my brother moved us here, but the house was almost completely remodeled by the time we arrived, so I think he was planning it for a while.
After a year back in society, people are waking up to the fact that William Blazey has returned a man, and quite an imposing one.
My brother is heir to an aristocratic title and the perks that go with it.
I don’t think many people know I exist, and I like it like that. My future is still up in the air.
I joined a rock band a few months ago, and we have practice twice a week. I also train every day with my brother, and we talk to our foster parents almost every day too. Then maybe once a week I call my Grandpa, and that’s as much socializing as I can bear.
We live in a university town in Massachusetts.
I realized when we first came here, there was no point making friends.
Eventually I’d have to lie to anyone getting to know me.
Most people who want to know rich boys are sleazy anyway.
I’m not looking for a mean girl to be nice to me in exchange for gifts.
I don’t have time for it. William, on the other hand, is a womanizer who screws like his dick is about to fall off.
He also likes cage-fighting. Very red-blooded.
I wonder if things were different, would I be too?
The thing is, I’m completely fucked up. I usually feel like I’m just under the still water of a deep pond.
Like I’m tied down and can’t reach the surface, so I have to breathe through a reed straw.
I try to ignore all these hopeless feelings, but it’s getting worse and worse.
And you know what they say about drowning men.
They tend to drown others with them. I don’t want anyone to get hurt except myself.
My solitude has not been easy for William.
I’m dragging him down too. I tell him I am focusing on study but I don’t think he believes it.
I make exceptions for low-key parties on special occasions.
We had fireworks for the Fourth of July, and a bonfire for the Fifth of November.
Seeing the leaves fall and the jack-o-lanterns at Halloween was amazing.
I dressed as a Tolkien elf, and he was Beetlejuice.
I gave candy to trick-or-treaters. We went to Thanksgiving a few days ago with some friends of his.
I really enjoyed it until one of the girls said she wanted to see me again.
Now it’s almost Christmas, and we have this lovely snow just before break.
I’m trying to get as far away from everywhere as I possibly can.
When I saw a note pinned to the history bulletin board advertising a “cultural exchange trip” to Australia, I knew we had to go.
Yeah it’s a school thing but we all know that it’s basically a glorified holiday with a school credit attached so, win-win.
When I told my brother’s girlfriend Isobelle, and Sabrina, my fiancé, (don’t ask, it’s complicated) who both still live in France, they insisted we tack on a trip to New Zealand at the end and go on a boat journey around Fiordland. I love the idea.
We won’t be back for the first few days of school, but I talked to each of our professors about it beforehand, got our syllabi and assigned readings and promised to study on the trip.
None of William’s professors realized they were talking to me and not him, but it had to be done.
Billy is already signed up, and I already paid for it before I talked to him. I just have to persuade him to go.
We make a rare visit to the pizzeria everyone raves about. I tell William what I have done, and how a holiday Downunder would be a good thing.
“I don’t know,” he says.
"It’s gonna be great.”
“Do you really want to?”
“Of course,” I chuckle. “Come on Honey... I mean bro... Billy... Billy Bee... William... ”
He gags in disgust. “Don’t call me William...”
“But Will is okay?” I laugh.
“Why are you happy?” his brow furrows. “Why are you smiling? Baby, what’s this about?”
“Nothing!”
“Oh God. Do you have an ulterior motive?”
My brother puts his hand on mine and I push it away. “No.”
“You’re not planning to do anything, are you? I’m not going to have to sing You Are My Sunshine all night, am I?”
I scoff. “It’s okay...”
“Remember our deal...”
“I swear it’s not like that. It’s just a trip.”
“No secret agenda?”
“No,” I say.
My brother stares at me like I’m abstract art.
“Not all relaxed and happy because you’re going to take me on a trip to say goodbye, then kill yourself like a fucking asshole?”
He’s seeing the signs. Ugh.
I lean back, frustrated. “No.”
“You’ll tell me if you’re struggling?”
“Yes.”
“Good, because I love you and I will kill myself and track you the fuck down in Hell and kill you for real. You don’t get to quit, Baby.”
I don’t want to hear this.
“Understood.”
“I love you,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “Honey, I know.”
“So much.”
It’s not enough.
“This is what I mean by ‘smothering me’.”
“Please don’t kill yourself.”
“Please stop.”
He huffs, and thinks about it. “Australia?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you want to go?”
I shrug. “I want to go somewhere warm. I want to live a little.”
“You could just start dating,” he smiles. “It can be a lot of fun. Some of those religious girls are so gorgeous, and they...”
“I don’t want to socialize,” I tell him. “You promised me koalas, and I promised to stay alive, remember? It’s time.”
“True…” he thinks about it. “But you can’t die after, because your fucked-up logic is that we’ve seen the wombats and Koalas and all the Ozzy shit now as promised, and so now you can skip out on me, right?”
He knows me too well.
“Of course not.”
“We don’t have to go on a school program, we could just go by ourselves? I’ll get us a private plane, five-star tropical beaches...”
He wants to control the variables. All inclusive resorts. Lots of cameras. Nobody leaves the island easily. Can’t slip away on a helicopter. Can’t hitch a ride out of there with a stranger.
“It’s worth a credit,” I tell him.
“Alright. But with Kane. And Hayden.”
“Of course. The school is willing to accommodate them, yeah,” I nod. “Not that I’m happy about it.”
“And the girls can babysit you too.”
“Babysit? Accurate.”
“Not babysit.” He rolls his eyes. “Baby... sit.”
“I think you mean ‘accompany’ me, Billy Bee.”
“You know what I mean.”
This is our monthly cheat day. Billy usually measures every bite of food, and only lets it pass our mouths after a grueling daily workout at five in the bloody morning.
We’re never alone, because hunger is always with us.
Even so, he’s horrified because we’ve ordered way too much food, and it arrives all at once, and fills the table.
I eat a whole dumpling and smile. I eat some meat and giggle. It only makes him more suspicious of my good mood. It’s stressing him out. He pretends to sip his drink. He won’t even have a slice of pizza. He’s gonna make us leave soon.
I offer him the chicken Kiev.
“You have to try this, Bee.”
“I’m good,” he says, and passes it over, along with the dumplings, to our bodyguards at the next table.
He has to eat something, so I negotiate that we can both have half the salad, a hunk of meat, and nothing else. He agrees.
“I got a gig next week,” I tell him.
“That’s great,” he says. “Where? When?”
“Next Saturday. In Boston.”
“We should...”
“Take Hayden and Kane,” I interrupt. “Yeah, I figured.”