Marigold — Chapter 1

Mari's POV

"I could make it better

You serve as my light

' Cause after everything

Oh you're the sun in my light (Oh)

But I lost you

And it broke my heart too

'Cause you were the reason that I am alive"

My voice resonated inside my room as I dry my hair with a towel, my bathrobe safely covering my body as I lazily step out of my bathroom. I was wearing my undies underneath.

"You were there for me when I and down and sad

I was there for you only after you were gone

I know that I messed up but I promise I

Oh-oh, I miss you so bad"

I hummed a little as I sang one of my Dad's hits back in the day, though I can pretty much tell that it's still famous even to my age. How long has it been since they released it? I don't also have the slightest idea.

I sat in front of my dresser with a mirror big enough to take a whole damn family picture, something my Mom insisted on getting because, according to her, not being able to see everything when I ensemble up my fashion pieces is a total disaster.

Yeah, and that's something only her and aunt Max would always talk about whenever they check Elle and I's wardrobe and how our uncles would say we've got so many things to learn, especially from our moms. Ow-kay, they were fashion ambassadors, fine! We get it.

Two knocks on my door, and it immediately opens without hearing from me whether it's okay to come in.

A long sigh escaped my lips, my gaze shifting towards the door where my younger brother was grinning, half of his body already inside.

"What now?" I asked, preparing myself for something I would be annoyed within less than a minute. Anything that comes out of Latch's foul mouth annoys me. If he isn't my younger brother like biologically, I would have thrown him outside the lawn five years ago the first time he sneaked into my room and wreck my cute little bunny stuff toy.

"Dad won't let me go out until I get your permission," he grins, and a long sigh escaped my lips. I took a glimpse of my wall clock and noticed that it's already past eight.

Dad often says that because he knew I probably know Latch's circle of "friends."

"Who are you going with, and where to?" Grabbing my comb on top of my dresser, I started brushing my hair, eyes focused on the mirror instead of my stupid younger brother.

"Just a few of my classmates, we're going to have a picnic across the town,"

My eyes drifted back to where he is, and a scowl automatically shows on my face. And when I scowl at him, it means to cut the bullshit and stop lying on my face - which he understood because it isn't the first time.

Soft chuckles escaped his lips, and if he doesn't resemble our father a lot, I swear this brush on my hand will fly straight to his face in five seconds.

He rolled his eyes and finally entered my room uninvited, taking in my bed and sat into it.

"Okay, I'm going out on a date. But I don't want to tell Dad because he'll think it's Elle. I can't risk Dad calling uncle Sky. Elle will kill me if she finds out I'm going to date her friend. Like, why can't she trust me with her friend? If not, she should worry about me. I'm her best friend," he grimaced, and it's my turn to roll my eyes at him.

"Really? You want me to answer that?" I deadpan answered. Latch, on the other hand, looked so bored. And why is he going to a date looking like Dad in his twenties? Really? A black pullover?

He raised his eyebrow as he swings his feet sideways.

I put down my comb and crossed my arms, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

"Little brother, why would she trust you when you already dated almost half of her friends? And it's not like you actually dated them," I turned around and looked at him straight in the eyes.

"Latch, your span of attention is limited to two weeks! Two fucking weeks Latch, and you drop them girls like potatoes. Clever wise, that girl you're supposed to date with is rather stupid for even agreeing. And it's not like Elle doesn't have a good reason. Her so-called-friends flood her with hate messages after you start avoiding them. They ask the girl to tell those to you. Is she a hate platform that your girls can use?" I gritted my teeth in frustration. Of all the things he can inherit to our father, it has to be that charisma that makes the girls swoon over him. And that's me paraphrasing what mom always says.

He tilted his head a little, his arms resting on my bed as he sat almost leaning to it, "Sis, that two weeks is a safe zone for us to know each other. Why would I date her if we don't click?"

"Yeah, why would you go out with those women if all they do is harass Elle. And don't start with that one lady who rolled her eyes when she saw me. Let her do that trick again, and she's dead,"

He laughed at what I said but didn't even bother reacting. What should I expect? I once got into a catfight because of him.

My eyes closed for a moment. I did a quick breathing exercise and recited the real names of my uncles, a chant their fans use to scream at the top of their lungs. It calms me down since I was a kid, and I kind of adapted it until now, like a force of habit.

My mind refuses to remember that time I saw Elle crying in front of Z. I was there hanging out with her brother, my best friend, when she started crying.

She's gossiping on Latch after she received another hate message. The girl is practically losing friends. I told her to drop my brother instead, jab it in like that, but I know it's impossible. The two grew up together. If Uncle Sky pushes my father to break out of his shell, it was Latch that did it for Elle. Now Elle is just as much spoiled and a brat like my younger brother.

Releasing another sigh, I don't know just how many I let out just because of Latch, I open my eyes and look at him in the eyes.

"Fine, tell Dad I said okay," I muttered, giving up. It's no use anyway. I may hate how annoying my brother is, but once he starts to put his mind into convincing me, I'd probably end up saying yes still, so what's the point of delaying the possible outcome?

Upon hearing my response, his lips break into a huge bunny smile and almost lunging into me for a hug, but I stop him. "I hate your perfume," I snickered, and he just laughed, messing my hair a little before running outside.

He's too excited to tell Dad I said yes. As bratty and spoiled my brother maybe, he would never lie to Dad about me agreeing if I didn't. He'd probably get away with it, but Mom will kill him.

I stood up from my dresser and went straight to my walk-in closet. Slowly removing my bathrobe, I pulled out a huge GUCCI oversized T-shirt with a deer patch. I once grabbed it over Z's wardrobe and wore it without second thoughts. An oversized shirt for sleepwear? Yep. I don't feel like wearing pajamas tonight.

Since the shirt is loose and a little lengthy, I didn't bother wearing any shorts or pajamas as it covers my body so well, and it reaches just above my knee.

Humming the song that I was singing earlier, I hung my bathrobe properly. Mom and Dad taught us to clean our room. Even Dad washes our clothes sometimes just because he's so sensitive to smell.

Once satisfied with how everything looked, I lazily went out of my walk-in closet only to find Z standing on the leaf of my door.

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