One Missed Call by Sarae

Chapter 2: Forbidden

"Macaroni again? Tom, it's okay if they're your specialty, but every time you cook it's the same. The tomatoes will come out of my nose, man."

Tom moved the pasta on his plate, looking at it in a very bad mood, without appetite.

"If you don't want it, throw it in the trash. And if you want to eat something else, cook it yourself. Is it clear, Georg?"

"Like water, boss."

"What about Bill?" Gustav asked, tasting the food and making a face of disgust.

"He's not hungry."

"Luckily, he won't have to taste this crap. Did you put sugar in it? It's sweet."

"It's true, it's sweet. I knew we should've called TelePizza. 'The secret is in the pizza dough'."

Tom snorted and didn't even taste his food. He stood up from the chair, picked up his plate, Gustav's and Georg's, and went to the kitchen, dumping the content in the trashcan.

"I said it was sweet, not that it wasn't edible."

"Do I look like your maid, Georg? Do I look like a maid? Do you think I have tits and walk around with an apron to serve you? Because if you think that way, I can fix it with a punch, you know?"

"Tom, man, he was kidding," Gustav defended him immediately. "Take it easy, if you're mad as hell, tell us and we'll shut up, but don't get us involved."

The older twin was about to answer back, but he contained himself. Definitely, the urologist was right. How the hell was he going to get hard with such stress on his shoulders? It was like taking care of three grown up kids; the touchy one, the allergic-to-sweet-things one, and then... the autistic one. And people complain because mothers become bitter and grumpy.

"Are you mad at Bill? What happened now?"

"Does it matter to you?" he grumped, showing all his bad mood. He didn't say a word when he noticed the tense silence that had just fallen in the room. Georg wrinkled his nose and Gustav looked at him with seriousness. Lately, he was determined to be the one who kept the peace among the four of them, who always got stuck with the bad mood of the twins, which became every time tenser. They were drifting apart, a lot, and if they drifted apart... it would be very difficult for the band to stay afloat.

"I understand that you're mad, but Bill is screwed for that. You know that the fans' thing has always affected him more than anything else. This has been a tremendous blow. We... we need to have patience," he managed to speak clearly and calmly despite being angry, trying to pass his composure on to the others without much success.

"How much patience do I need? It's been a week and he doesn't look up, he doesn't even get away from me to go to the bathroom. It freaks me out!"

"He's your brother, right? You don't have any other option than to be patient."

"I already know he's my fucking brother, I don't want you to say it again!"

That yell really was the limit. Tom hit the table with fury, startling Georg, who stood up all of a sudden.

"Fine. If you have something to say, I don't know, for example, thanks for trying to help me, call me because I'm out." The bassist walked up to the entrance of the apartment, grabbed his jacket and put it on, mad as hell. Tom thought he would tear it in two pieces. "Let's go, Gustav. If this ingrate isn't capable to appreciate the troubles we get in for trying to help him, fuck him."