Chapter Four - Home
adrian
I have a brief introduction with Kaden, Hayes, Avery and Blake. It happens as they're on their way out and I'm coming down the stairs. Awkward isn't even the word I'd use to describe it.
They're unaware of how to react to me, I can tell, and the feeling is mutual.
Thank God Phoenix is there to mediate. Either he doesn't sense the tension in the interaction or he doesn't care to acknowledge it but he keeps talking..
They leave after Phoenix informs me they're going out and that Damon and Luciano are somewhere in the house. Everyone else already left for who-the-hell-knows-what.
I told Phoenix about the picture of him, Reece and I at dinner which has long since passed. A glance at the account after dinner and the picture was gone. It disappeared as if it never existed in the first place.
Now the house is basically empty, I'm no longer a feature on a gossip Instagram page and I'm free to explore the house all I want. The wing our bedrooms are in is the main wing of the house, and the only wing I plan on exploring at current time. I have a feeling that getting lost in this house would be an easy thing to achieve.
There are plenty of eccentric rooms that occupy the basement and first floor of this wing of the house. A lot of them just seem to display the ungodly amount of wealth my brothers have even without that being the main objective.
The first door at the very end of the hall of the basement is an unidentified locked room that I don't bother with for long. The second is a panic room decked out with a fridge stacked from top to bottom with any drink imaginable, a pantry full of every snack I could ever think of, a TV mounted to the wall and a bathroom.
The third room is a wine cellar that is of no interest to me, but the detail in it is exquisite. It reeks of money. The entire wine rack is gold, real or not, I have no idea. It takes up the entirety of three walls and every crevice houses a bottle of wine. In the middle of the room is a pure glass case with another gold wine rack inside it that is also stacked from top to bottom with more wine bottles. The case, however, has a keypad to lock it and it leads me to the assumption that those are the more expensive bottles.
An indoor pool fills more than half the space of the fourth room. The entire room is marbled with ivory, gold and cream from the floor to the ceilings. In the front of the room is bar area with a entire wall of drinks ranging from alcohol, to sodas, to energy drinks and on the other side of the bar holds five bar stools mounted to the floor. On the left side of the room is a lounge area with TV mounted to the wall, a set of ivory couches, a pair of ivory reclineable chairs and an array of ivory pool chairs as well as more pool chairs lining either side of the pool. I decide that this a room which I will definitely be visiting some time in the near future.
The fifth door leads to what I assume is a like a large lounge area. The roof and the walls are black while the floor is concrete and white. The right wall and the left wall houses two sets of white L-shaped couches, white tables in front of each couch and two TVs above each couch that seemed as if they formed part of the walls.
Behind the six door is an essentially useless at home spa since there are no masseuses. Open curtains that are meant to seperate each section reveal a section with three massage tables, another with two hot tubs and the third with an array of chairs against the wall meant to be a manicure and pedicure area.
The seventh is a steam room. The floor, the walls, the roof and the benches that lined the four walls are all made entirely of wood and I have yet to explore the eighth.
The first thing I notice is the music echoing throughout the room, a song I don't recognise. The second is that this room is obviously a gym and the third is the brother I have yet to meet occupying the room.
He sees me before I have the chance to make a hasty escape. It's not that I don't want to meet him but more so that he seems busy.
"Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here," I say, forcing a faint grin on my face.
He eyes stay locked on me for a minute, shifting across my face before he responds, "What are you doing down here?"
"Exploring," I shrug, "The house is practically empty."
"You want to work out or something?" he raises a questioning eyebrow.
Work out? Me? That's crazy, even more that it's night time. I don't tell him that though.
I shake my head, "No, thanks. Have fun, though."
His response is an acknowledging grunt as I'm closing the door behind me.
***
It's a little while later, when I'm back in my room, that I hear a knock.
"Come in," I call out, craning my head back to look at the door. It can only be Luciano or Damon.
Luciano being at my door, I would understand. A random check-in, probably. Seeing Damon at the door, however, is a surprise,
"Hi?"
He leans casually against the doorframe, "I'm going for a drive. Want to come with?"
Intrigued, and even more surprised, I sit up fully and ask, "Where are we going?"
"Just a drive."
I think on it for a second. I'm not doing anything particularly interesting and I wouldn't mind leaving the house. I also come to the realisation that he could've gone on his "drive" himself. There was absolutely no reason for him to invite me along and I'm taking the invitation for what it is, an opportunity to get to know him if not anything else.
"Okay," I agree, already pushing myself off the bed. I slide my feet into the slides waiting by my bedside and look at Damon, "let's go."
On the side of the, very large house-
-You don't every truly feel how large a house is until you have to walk around the outside of it-
there's a pathway that leads around to the back. There's a second building a few meters, thirty or so, away from the house, It's big, but not in height and rather in length. The outside is painted is painted black to match the house itself and the roof is flat.
Damon leads us to that building, around the side of it to a door with, surprise, surprise, another keypad to unlock it. Damon turns ever so slightly and enters the combination, his giant shoulders blocking my view of the numbers.
He opens the door and let's me in first before pulling is closed behind him. It's dark until Damon flips the light switch. The first thing I see is the giant SUV blocking my view of anything else. Damon starts walking and I follow right behind him.
Oh holy car heaven, oh my god. OH MY GOD!
Cars. So many cars. The only time I'm ever around this many cars is in parking lots. I now understand why the buling is so wide.
Against the back wall is a row of SUVS, twelve to be exact. One for each brother, I guess. Each car is seperated from a roof to floor strip of light light. The lights, that light up the room, are also the parking guideline that helps all the cars to be parked to neatly.
In between each car is a space the size of a car. The same set up of cars applies for the other three rows of cars. The second row of cars consists of solely black and white ones. The third row is only luxury cars. Luxury meaning sports cars. I have never seen this man sports cars in one place but it was sight to behold.
I know next to nothing about cars, but my eyes work and they can recognise the beauty that is sports cars. Or maybe it's just a biased opinion because it's a luxury car but whatever it is, I'm in awe just looking at them.
The first row, right in front of the garage door, is empty save for two cars. A burnt ornage Lamborghini that Damon's already sitting in another maroon sports car a few paces away.
I hear Damon call out from inside the car, "Are you planning on getting in?"
That spurs me into action. I slide into the car and look around in wonder at the interior. It's customised, that much is clear. Everything is red besides a few black accents on the seats and the center console, as well as the mats on the floor.
I've never sat inside a sports car before. As juvenile as it is to admit, it is exciting.
I'm practically bouncing in my seat when I turn to Damon, "How fast can it go?"
He glances at me for a brief moment, "Fast."
Wow, that's enlightening.
"Th-" I'm cut off by the roar of the engine as the car comes to life.
Suddenly I don't care about chastising my brother on his use or sarcasm because the garage door starts opening, I'm not sure how because Damon didn't press anything, and we're cruising down the driveway, and out the gate.
Suddenly my window is rolled all the way down. I look at Damon but he doesn't spare me a glance. I notice his window is the same.
Fall in Los Angeles is still hotter than it should be and the breeze is a all but welcome. I turn to stare out the open window watching the scenery pass by in the form of houses as luxurious as the one I find myself living in.
The novelty of it all wares off after a few, long minutes and the car is left in agonising silence. There isn't even music playing in the car.
It's then that I find myself wondering why Damon invited me for a joy ride if we're both just going to stew in silence. I choose not to voice the question and instead veer my head from staring out the window to staring at him.
He notices, of course he does. Finally he does spare me a glance with a half clocked eyebrow, "Can I help you?"
I hesitate. I fear asking the question. I don't know what his reaction would be to it, anyway. I was taught never to judge a book by its cover but a heavily tattooed man whom you've never seen smile before, brother or no brother, would bring awareness to anyone. Past evidence suggests Damon might not have the most pleasant reaction if the amount of tabloid stories about him lashing out at paparazzi for saying the wrong thing was anything to go by.
Instead I blurt out, "Can we get milkshakes?"
Milkshakes? Milkshakes? That's the first thing that came out of my mouth?
"You waited that long to ask for milkshakes?"
"I...guess," I shrug.
He looks at me again, eyes squinted slightly and then he looks away again, "Sure, let's get milkshakes."
Then we're plunged into silence again, still with no music on. At least if the music was on the silence wouldn't feel so suffocating. It feels tense but it also feels like maybe I'm reading too much into it.
A few minutes pass by and I can't take the silence anymore. "Actually," I turn away from staring out the windscreen to look at Damon, "can I ask you a question?"
"You can," he nods, "doesn't mean I'll answer."
Right.
"It's nothing bad," I clarify, and then backtrack, "at least I don't think it is."
He answers with a questioning hum.
"I just want to ask about your tattoos."
That's a better conversation starter than milkshakes. Maybe this time he may actually try to keep the conversation going.
"What about them?"
"For starters, why do you have so many?"
He huffs, "Why not?"
"I just mean most people get tattoos that have, you know, meaning. Do all of yours have meaning?"
"Not all of them, some of them. Most of them just look cool."
"How many do you have?"
"I lost count at fifty."
I resist the urge to comment on that.
Eighty three. Damon has eighty three tattoos. A fact I found from reading a article during one of my stalking sessions. Obviously I don't voice the fact that I know the answer to my own question and the fact that he should probably know the answer as well.
Instead, I ask, "Which one is your favourite?"
I know the answer to that one too, courtesy of the same article. Of all the tattoos he has, his favourite is a flower. A violet. It's one tattoo that I know has meaning to him but he never revealed what it means.
His hesitation lasts a split second, something I was probably no meant to notice but did anyway. Instead on answering, he extends his right hand towards me. The sleeves of his jacket lifts slightly and underneath on the underside of his wrist reveals tallies. Three in total indicating the number fifteen.
As quickly as he showed me, he retracts his hand and puts it back on steering wheel.
In defense of me and the article, it was published a year ago. Who knows if he got more tattoos and in the same merit, his favourite tattoo could have also changed.
"Does it have meaning or does is just look cool?"
"It just looks cool."
I can't sense if it's a lie or not. Who would get tally markings on their body just because it looks cool?
"Cool. I want a tattoo, too."
Curiosity colours his face, "You want tattoos?"
"A tattoo," I clarify, "Well now maybe two."
"Maybe two?"
"I want my first to be a flower, a crysanth. My mom's birth flower." It's a solem twist to the conversation but I don't let it deter me from answering, "I want my second to be something or honour my-" I stop myself as it occurs to me, "our," I correct myself, "dad. I haven't thought about what I would get though."
Finally I turn to look at him only to realise his eyes are already on me, an unreadable expression on his face. He turns back to look at the road ahead after a few more seconds.
The car is silent until he speaks again, "Okay, that's not a bad first tattoo, or a second."
"Thanks," I let my confusion speak for itself, literally, "I think."
"I'll make you a deal," he glances at me as he speaks. "Maintain good behaviour and whatever else Dari and Luci asked, and for your sixteenth birthday I will take you to get both of them."
Taken aback at his words, I stare at him with wide eyes. He's taken me by complete surprise. "Are you serious?"
He looks at me then, his face completely devoid of any sort of humour or anything else that would otherwise indicate that he wasn't serious, "Do I look like I'm joking?"
"No."
"So do we have a deal?"
"Absolutely."
After that, conversation is easy. I grill Damon some more about his tattoos and the conversation somehow drifts and drifts until I ask him to turn on the music.
We drive to downtown LA and end up at a dingly little milkshake shop.
According to Damon, it's the best milkshake stop in LA and it's never busy because it's hardly well-known.
The Milky Way, a tiny little place with a bar at the counter and a small bench pressed against the right wall for people to sit while they waited. On the far left side of the counter is a small desert display with a few pastries and next to it is a samples for the cup sizes, small, medium, large and master. Behind the counter is a display board with all the milkshake flavours and desserts that The Milky Way offers.
I order a Chocolate Shake in the size master and Damon settles for a Salted Caramel Shake in size large as well a raspberry pastry.
Something valuable to note about Damon, his car is practically his baby. He refused to allow our shakes or his pastry in the car so he parked it off in front of The Milky Way and we walked up the block and back down again to the car until our shakes were polished.
***
The ride home was more comfortable. The music was on for the entire drive back and when Damon pulled into the garage, the amount of luxury cars was practically double. Every parking space im the first row was full too, with more luxury cars.
Holy rich boys, that's for sure.
When we get back into the house, the noise from the kitchen is hard to miss. Both Damon and I follow the path to the racket.
Every. Single. One. Of my brothers my brothers are seated around the kitchen island, except Damon obviously, some munching down on the leftovers from dinner and others with some more carefully curated meals -noodles or sandwiches.
Phoenix notices us first and as loud as he can be, he bellows, "Where the hell were you two?" The grin on his face is a large as his personality and his question diverts everyone's attention to the two of us.
"We went for a drive," Damon answers before me, more subdued than Phoenix. He makes a beeline straight to the pantry and pulls out his own carton of Ramen and holds up a second, a silent question.
I shake my head 'no' in response and he puts it back, closes the pantry and goes to the sink to start on his own post-dinner meal.
"You don't have to just stand there," Elijah tells me, a smile on his face.
It's then that I realise I am just standing like an idiot so I take the empty seat next to him.
"Damon, be honest, did you threaten her?"
Damon's response is to flip Phoenix the middle finger without even glancing in his direction.
Phoenix looks at me, expression utterly serious, "Did he threaten you?"
I can't help the laugh the spills out of me, "No, he didn't threaten me."
"So what did you do on this drive?" Phoenix inquires further.
"We got milkshakes, asshole," is Damon's response.
Phoenix squawks, "He let you drink in his car?"
"No, he made me finish it before we for back in the car."
"That makes more sense," Ryder quips.
"From The Milky Way?"
Damon nods a yes to Reece's question.
"Where's our milkshakes?" Xander fixes his glare on Damon's back.
"You weren't there, so you don't get any."
Phoenix, Reece and Ryder involve themselves in that argument and I take the time to observe the rest of them. Elijah sits with a dopey grin on his face, occasionally adding fuel to the fire, Darius has a faint grin on his face which is the closest I've seen to a smile on him since I've been in LA and Luciano doesn't bother hiding his smile.
The other four seem as if they can't see, hear or smell beyond the food in front of them. They pay absolutely no attention to the rest of us.
"Adrian," I swivel my head away from the four teenagers across from me to look at Reece, "how could you not think of the rest of us?" Offence paints his tone as well as his face.
"You weren't there," I shrug with a smile.
The commotion is immediate. It's unserious, laughable family banter and I can't help but wonder if maybe this is how it could always be.