It All Started with a Lie

Chapter 21

Our brother wakes up in tears after only an hour, and despite offering to watch one of his favorite musicals, so he can sing along, they will not stop. So in a desperate attempt Bea offers to play dress up, like we would when we were kids, hiding from our father in the basement.

We would throw a fashion show to our stuffed animals and Sonny would be the designer. His earlier work was not quite as extravagant as it is now though, so when he agrees, it is not dress up with makeshift blanket togas and tops from our mothers scarves. He pulls out what he's been working on lately, and it is certainly his best. The suit that he has designed for me, he says is inspired by something he saw at London's fashion week. I do not understand the specifics but I try my best to comprehend what he says. Bea's outfit is something that came to him in a dream.

It's a long black dress with a large cut out on the side and a slit, embellished with a gold pin. My sister cowers in it, trying to cover her bare skin but there is too much of it for her to do so. My sister gives Sonny one good runway walk with her crutches in the dress before wrapping herself in a blanket. "It's cute," she starts, "it's just a little too much—little?—for me."

He tilts his head in thought, taking a step back to look at his design. It is the first time he has seemed to think of something other than Maxon and a little bit of his color starts to return to his complexion. "You're right. It would be better suited for Alexia. Can we invite her over?"

He is right, it will look stunning on her, but I don't think I could look at her in it without my sister suspecting something.

"Of course we can," Bea answers. "I'll text her."

I hope that Alexandria will say no, and I know that it is selfish, that my focus should be on Sonny. She does not. She responds with a yes and says she will be here in under an hour.

While we wait for her, Sonny has me switch shirts while he comes up with something more fitting for Bea.

I unbutton my original shirt, being sure not to wrinkle it in the process of hanging it up and as I do my sister's brow quirks as she stares at me. "Where's your necklace?"

I instinctively reach up to the spot the cord normally rest but it is not there, it is around her neck. I have never taken it off before this, so of course she would notice. "I think I lost it at the frat house."

"That's terrible! You have to go back and look for it before someone steals it."

Even while heartbroken, Sonny is agreeing with her. "I'll be okay, Bea and Alexia got me." Sonny hugs my sister, trying to convince me of his mental stability. It does not work.

I feel guilty at how loving they are, willing to put their feelings aside for something they know is important to me, and I am lying to them. I am the oldest, their big brother, and I am lying to them, my family.

It takes a lot of convincing, but eventually, they let me stay, to finish out the fashion show, the only way I can convince Sonny.

In what feels like a cruel revenge, when I finish Bea's and Sonny's makeup, they beg me to let them do mine. "Absolutely not."

"Please! You would looks so good," Bea pleads.

"Just a little eyeliner," Sonny adds.

"I already said no." They ask me this every time I do their makeup, for the last ten years. And for ten years I have refused.

I finish the last touches of Sonny's eyeshadow, and I as do his eyes start to water, but I know he won't let them fall and ruin his mascara. "Maxon never let me do his makeup either."

Despite a desperate fight, he can't stop the black tears from spilling across his cheeks. I try to wipe them with a tissue but they fall too rapidly for me to do so, the best I can do is keep them from getting on his white shirt. I have seen my brother cry a dozen times, because of malevolent parents and cruel children, but nothing has ever been so upsetting that he would ruin his makeup. He broke his wrist once and didn't shed a tear because I'd just done his eyeshadow and he said it looked too good to ruin before getting a picture. We had to take it off before calling an ambulance so our father would not see. "A little bit of eyeliner and that is it. And no one else sees and no pictures."