Gaze - [h.s.]

❖ Chapter 1 ❖

A/N: Hey guys so this is what I have been working on! For the past 2 days I have been planning out the plot/characters/setting etc and this is what I came up with! Reminder; This is a work of fiction! Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of my imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblence to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The fact that the boys are in this story does NOT mean that this is the real them. I am just simply using their faces and partially their names. I created the middle names, meaning those aren't actually their middle names, obviously. I think you get the point, so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it, and don't forget to comment and vote!

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"Just because you're older than me doesn't mean I can't kick your ass," I say to my big brother, Brandon, as we race to set the dinner table. Today is our mothers' birthday, and we convinced her to let us handle dinner. Like the siblings we are, me and Brandon compete in anything and everything. Right now, we were in a race to see who could set the dinner table the fastest, just because we could.

"I'm going to win, want to know why?" Brandon tests. "One, I'm four years older than you, which means I've had more experience in training. Two, I can teleport. And three, I work out."

"Not my fault that food is my soulmate!" I exclaim, surpressing a giggle and setting a fork on the tables' surface.

"Oh, I forgot something. And I'm going to be the head of our mafia soon. You have nothing against me!" Brandon tries to laugh evilly, but it comes out as more of a squawk.

"Okay, Brandon, that's so not fair. Women can't even be the head of the mafia, in case you haven't heard," I state, "that's something you can't hold against me, because it's simply impossible for me to be boss and that's extremely sexist."

Brandon shoots his arms up in surrender, and ends up dropping the remains of the content for the table, which makes me set everything down faster, and I finish.

"I WIN!" I shoot my hands up in the air and start dancing to the non-existent music.

"Cool, do you want a cookie for that?"

"Chocolate chip with extra chocolate, please!" I tease as I see our mother, Amelia Krasota Abramov, walk into the dining room. Her middle name is 'beauty' in Russian. You see, we get our middle names sometime before the age of 30. There's no specific time, since everyone gets their middle name on a different day. Our middle names say what our powers are, and I have yet to find mine.

As I said, my mother's middle name is 'beauty' in Russian, which means she has the power of being extremely beautiful. I still don't get how that's a power, but somehow, it is. My brother's full name is Brandon Vspyshka Abramov. Vspyshka is Russian for 'flash', which means he could flash into any part of the world he wanted. I still think it's a bit corny, but it works.

Our father died years ago in a war between two mafias. Apparently, my father sold the wrong stuff on accident, and somehow, it rose a war. The mafia that we're in, is called the Uzhasy Mafia, meaning our mafia is cruel and horrific. My family isn't even close to being cruel, but the rest of the mafia owned up to being that terrible without stuttering, and came up with the name. We are number 3 in the top 5 mafias in the continent.

My brother was nominated to become boss of the mafia, which is huge. He would be in charge of shipments, guards, wars, everything. Which could also mean he would have to move away from us, into the lands of safety out of the country. As of now, we live in Coral Springs, Florida. It's a beautiful beach-side city, and I plan to never leave.

As we eat the dinner that me and Brandon cooked, our mother is contantly praising us for how good it is.

"This is delicious," she says, "I should make you two cook more often."

"See, Candy? I told you that recipe would be the best!" Brandon teases to me, "I win."

"Oh my God, Brandon. That was my recipe. You just helped prepare it." I say to him as I nudged his shoulder playfully.

After we've finished, me and Brandon smirk to each other and get up from the table, and start to walk into the kitchen, our mother becoming confused.

"What do you two think you're doing? We have to clean up before having free time, haven't I taught you this?" She goes on and on as Brandon(being as tall as he is) grabs the cake from on top of the fridge.

"Get the candles," he whispers. I nod and grab the numbered candles from the cupboard, and follow him. I also grab the two perfectly wrapped presents from behind the china dishes in the display cabinet. As we go back into the dining room, we start singing Happy Birthday, purposely out of tune, and set the cake on the table in front of our mother, as well as the two gifts and putting the candles on top of the circular purple cake.

Brandon lights the candles with the lighter in his pocket as we continue singing. I glance at my mother the whole time, to catch her reactions. She looks utterly surprised, which means we've succeeded. After we finish singing, we smile at her as she blows out the candles. She looks as if she's about to cry.

"Mom, why do you look like you're going to cry? This is supposed to make you happy." Brandon smiles at her playfully.

"I just love you two. I didn't even see this coming. You got me gifts, too? Oh, kids, you didn't have to buy me anything," she continues, "but thank you, I love you both so much to the moon and back."

She stands up and hugs both of us before sitting back down and opening the gifts. I made her a photo collage of me and Brandon throughout the years, and Brandon made her a photo collage of our father(I helped since he can't be creative for shit). These gifts definitely made her cry, so we both had our turns hugging her while she had her turns thanking each of us.

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After everything's over, we all retreat to our separate rooms. I walk up the stairs, turn right, and then turn left on the second door in the hallway. My room is simple; Two picture frames hang on either side of my window; one of the whole family, including my dad, and one of me and Brandon a few years back.

My closet door is right next to the entrance door of my room. It's a huge closet, even though I don't need that much space. My bed sits up against the right wall, in the middle. Next to it is my nightstand, holding a bottle of water, the book I'm reading, my phone, and raniditine pills for hearburns, which I get from being fed with formula as a baby.

I really only have one best friend other than Brandon, and her name is Kira. She has black short hair that comes to her chin, her eyes are the color of icy mint, her complexion is almost a vampires', and her smile is perfectly straight and white. I met her at the playground near my house when we were 5. We fought over a swing, and I ended up pushing her down a short flight of stairs. It happens.

As if on queue, there's a knock on my window, and sure enough, it's Kira. Before I can walk over to open it for her to come in, she opens it herself and slides in. She stands up, smiles, and walks over to me, engulfing me in a hug.

"Hey, how are you?" She asks.

"I'm all right, just tired. You?"

"I'm fantastic; my parents met my boyfriend today. They were surprised when they found out he could manifest things. Like, my mom said something about needing a new cutting board, and then all of a sudden, he manifests a brand new cutting board right in front of her," she explains. "I wish I had manifestation as my power."

"Oh please, at least you know your power! I haven't even found mine yet," I look down.

"Have you tried to use it? Maybe if you tested it you'd see what your power is," She says as she picks at her nails.

"Yes, I've tried. Apparently, you don't get your power until you're given your middle name, I guess."

"You'll get it soon. Promise." She smiles at me, and we spend the night watching movies and eating as much food as we can. Ah, the life of a loser.