— burn it up, buttercup

"Antonio, will anyone be home tonight?" Ryker asked. His right elbow was perched on the armrest of the car, chin perched on his palm, as they sped past the blinding lights.

"No, young master. Your father is in Mexico and your mother is in Italy. I don't think they will be able to make it even if they wanted to," Antonio replied.

Ryker viewed from behind the closed window at least a hundred people crossing their path. Each night, his car would drive through the same streets yet its encounters would be varied. He wondered if everyone had something or someone to go back to.

Antonio glanced at the rear-view mirror and spotted Ryker solmonly staring outside the window. "Is there something you needed to discuss with the Master and Lady? I can convey your message," Antiono proposed.

"No, it's okay, thank you. Would my brother be home?" Ryker asked, eyes unmoving from the world outside.

"He is practicing for a summer festival event with his classmates. He will either be very late or spend the night at the Cresent Hall. He got Master's permission to rent it, apparently it has good echo?" Antonio's words ended in a question to himself. His brows furrowed as he tried to recall the exact words while the waiting on a red light.

"Oh? He did not tell me," Ryker mumbled. He fell back into his seat and slumped, no longer interested in the stagnant vehicles outside.

"It's a band performance," Antiono informed, sounding excited.

"That sounds fun," Ryker dragged. "I need you to buy me some stuff by tomorrow. Search up everything needed for a magic show and buy it. Then buy stuff that would be needed to make it, you get what I mean? Contingency props."

"Yes, of course, young master," Antiono made a mental note before hitting the accelerator.

The cold foyer and elongated hallwaysvof his house formed a comfortable bubble around Ryker. He treaded the familiar path up the grand staircase and turned to head into the right wing of the mansion. He opened the very last door at the end of the hallway and entered the room.

Unlike the others, this room was painted a deep burgundy with a sandy white wall trim. The furniture was dark and pristine on the outside but one look too close would reveal the imperfections. The blended blood splatters on the wall, the rock band posters beneath the table tops and the king sized bed hiding cases of musical instruments within told a different tale about Ryker's brother.

Ryker plopped himself on the bed and kicked his shoes off. Minutes drifted into hours and sleep found him before his brother. In the early hours of dawn, Ryker woke up to shuffling noises around him. He opened one eye and spotted his brother rummaging through the drawers.

"Hey... morning," Ryker whispered, voice groggy in acknowledgement.

The rummaging stopped and the taller boy turned to pass a smile to Ryker. "Good morning Ryk," he chirped and leaned in to ruffle his brother's hair, "What's got you in my bed like a damsel?"

Ryker grinned and got up, "I was waiting for you Aaron but I guess I slept. What are you searching for?" He asked, blinking hard to make sense of his brother's silhouette in the darkness. "You can switch on the light, it's all good," he tsked and rolled over to turn on the bedside lamps.

"Sue me, didn't want to disturb the sleep of a growing child," Aaron shrugged his shoulders, "I was looking for a plectrum, you see, I remember there's a box somewhere — but I keep moving stuff around to evade Darcy's eyes. You know she flips and snitches."

"Oh I know," Ryker said and jumped off the bed. "I heard that you were practicing for the summer festival with your friends. Is it a band thing?" He asked as he walked up to the study table perched in front of a window. He opened the lowermost drawer on the right and took out a cylindrical box.

"You heard? Ryk has sources now?" Aaron snorted. His pale eyes widened as he spotted the familiar box and he lunged to pat his brother's back.

"Antonio told me," Ryker clarified, vibrating as Aaron hugged and shook him.

"I know, I know, I am. It's gonna be so much fun, you'll see. Thanks bro," Aaron patted Ryker's back and took the box out of his hands.

"I am participating as well," Ryker informed as he stood up and saw his brother unload the box on the table top. Colourful guitar plectrums piled up in the centre and Aaron dug a finger into the pile to search for the most appropriate one.

"Mhm, what are you going to do?"

"A magic show!"

Aaron stopped shuffling with the plectrums and looked up at his brother, eyebrows widened. "You, of all people, are doing a magic show?? Is it with that girl??" Aaron teased, nudging Ryker's shoulder, "The one who has basically kidnapped you and feeds you on the regular?"

Ryker frowned at that information. "She hasn't— her name is Nadia—"

"Of course, Nadia, gotta remember the name of my brother's first friend," Aaron interjected, smirking.

"Her name is Nadia and we hangout after school. We even do homework at her place and they have the best food ever," Ryker stated proudly.

"Darcy is sobbing in the corner with her Michelin Stars right now!" Aaron cackled, "I am loving it! You have been holed up with her, come now, do not gatekeep good food from me."

"I will save you something today, promise, you'll love it so much!" Ryker exclaimed, mouth agrin. His eyes twinkled upon the thought of his older brother appreciating Nadia's food.

"Let's bring it home and eat it at dinner. Darcy would flare up. Oh! the imagery calms my heart," Aaron grinned. "Don't be too late though, okay? I'll have to leave for practice again."

"Are you doing it with Arabella and Elio?"

"Yes," Aaron replied, resuming his search for the guitar plectrum. "Arabel is our vocalist, Elio is our drummer, Hope's got the guitar and I'm on the bass, the usual. We've come up with good stuff, don't tell mum and dad about it though. I told them we were practicing carols and acrobats. I don't think father believes it but mother was overjoyed about it."

He picked up a beige and white plectrum and pocketed it. "It's a limited edition," he mouthed, "Hope won a bet."

"Do you think I should tell them about the magic show?" Ryker asked. He followed his brother to the bed and plopped beside him.

"Hmmm, what's her family name?" Aaron asked, leaning backward on his elbows.

"It's Paisley."

"Paisley...Paisley? I don't think I have ever heard of a Paisley before. Are they from Bruno's side of town?"

"Yeah... she lives in the colony ahead of Bruno Square."

Aaron clenched his teeth and gave his brother a pitiful look. "It's okay Ryk, you know I've always got your back. Don't worry." He rolled over to pat his brother's head.

"Yeah...I know. There's Bernie as well, he's, well, his father is pretty abusive. Bernie has been my classmate since elementary. Though we were never friends or acquaintances. Nadia befriended him."

"You want me to do something about his father?" Aaron asked, tone serious.

"I don't know, I cannot decide. I met him yesterday."

"You know if anything bothers you in the slightest, just shoot it. Works with everyone and everything, it's brilliant," Aaron grinned, not using metaphors.

Ryker pulled a face at the advice.

"If I do that, Nadia will probably stop being friends with me."

"Oh-ho! You're soft for her, already! Bahahahahaha!" Aaron cackled and pounced on his brother. He tackled Ryker down and launched a tickle attack. The younger boy tried his best in defending but failed miserably owing to Aaron's long muscular and agile limbs trapping him down.

Suddenly, the door flung open and a woman bellowed.

"Young Master! Here you are! I have been looking for you all morning! My worst assumption catered your absence as a rebellious move! Not that you have anything to rebel about, right? Will you let him go, Master Aaron? Geez, you folks need training all over again. Where are your manners around a lady?!"

"Geez, where is the lady?" Aaron drawled and unhanded his flustered brother.

"Master Aaron!" The woman shouted sternly.

"Mrs. Darcy," Aaron replied, rolling his eyes.

"Why do I even bother with you? And— oh! Young Master! Have you been sleeping in your day clothes? That is very disappointing! I did not see you ask for dinner yesterday night. That's about a week of skipped dinners. This is not good. I will have to talk to the Lady about this. She will have a stern talk with you. You cannot turn out to be like this."

Ryker sighed as he stood up and apologised for his negligence.

"Ryk can wear what he wants and eat whenever he wants, woman, what age are you living in? Get done with the breakfast before I get bored of looking at your face, yeah? Scram." Aaron said as he stood up tall and straight, shoulders squared and face darkened. The familiar humour of twinkle left his eye as he confronted the scowling woman before him.

"You wish you could get rid of me," Darcy snarled. "And you," pointed a finger at Ryker, "Shower and breakfast within ten or you will be late for school." Before Aaron could get another word in, Darcy curtsied and walked out, closing the door behind her.

"Heaven knows she makes me want to blast her head off," Aaron fumed.

"Mother would be upset," Ryker dismissed the idea.

"Doesn't really bother me all that much," Aaron snapped, "How dare she talk to us like that?!"

"Nothing new in that," Ryker waved a goodbye to his brother and left the room.

Aaron stood there, momentarily, with gritted teeth and clenched fists. Though, before he could punch the wall and blend yet another shade of red into it, his phone rang. Arabella's name flashed on the screen as he picked it up.

"Hey, you got the plec?"

"Yeah," Aaron grumbled.

"Who took a piss on you, dude?" Arabella snorted.

"Your fucking mother," Aaron snapped.

"Just because she is married to my father doesn't make her my mother, dude. Burn her for all I care," Arabella growled.

"Bet. Bring Elio with the oil, I'll bring the lighter."

"Yes boss," Arabella said and hung up.

As someone who was being raised as the successor of the Cordelio household, Aaron's hands had been dirty ever since he was a kid. Everything that their household possessed in name, wealth and fame wasn't easily earned in a day.

Every step on the polished ground of the Cordelio Castle was one kept upon the blood, sweat and tears of someone else. That was the way of life for if you did not crush first, you'd end up being crushed instead.

Aaron had witnessed bloodshed when he was merely five — at a family dinner. A mere get together turned into a gun fight wherein his mother clutched him to her bossom and shot a man.

Their paternal uncle, Julius Cordelio, had turned all the guards and workers against the family by buying them off. Unfortunate for him, a young maid called Darcy tipped Aaron's mother beforehand. That day, Aaron learnt two things as he witnessed his house burning down along with everything he held dear. They were:

Attachment to all materlistic things is blatant, and

One bullet goes a long way.

After that incident, Elio Mahenjer was appointed as Aaron's guard. Though the boy was only slightly taller, he was agile and quick witted under pressing circumstances. He was Arabella Mahenjer's twin brother and they were Aaron's first friends and followers.

"A good leader needs a deadly right hand and a pretty girl who can pack a mean punch," were his training master's words when Aaron was sent to train with the newly appointed guards. He was beaten up and constantly looked down upon, even if he was merely ten and his offenders were grown adults. His father left no place for complaints and his mother was never there to patch up his bleeding limbs.

Instead, it was Elio who stood in front of the men double his size and got beaten up when Aaron couldn't stand. It was Arabella who patched Elio and him up and added chilli powder to everyone's water bottles, out of spite.

Day in and day out of learning how to fight, it was because of his friends that Aaron did not forget how to live. It was their late night escapads into the forest, singing on top of their lungs and pledging to grow up and make a band that kept Aaron going everyday.

At fifteen, his father began sending him on deals alongside Elio and other trusted men. Elio had been shot twice in Aaron's stead and yet, he stood outside of his stepmother's villa with a canister of crude oil and a smile on his face.

"What'd she do this time?" Elio asked, nudging his chin in a gesture of acknowledgement.

"She was rude to Ryk, my poor baby. No body is rude to my baby," Aaron scowled, twirling a lighter in his fingers.

"That little fucker," Arabella swore, a scowl laced on her pretty face.

"Arson it is," Elio nodded and walked forward.

The trio paraded down the mowed lawn with their heads held high, beelining towards the pink Range Rover Darcy Mehenjer cherished with her life. Pristine as the day Gregory Mahenjer gifted her the car, it stood out in the lawn of their villa, shining under the morning sun, awaiting its morning caresses. Though, instead of the familiar silken cloth rubbing over its glossy exterior followed by nasally hums — splashes of oil graced its body.

Elio oiled up the car for its demise and Aaron lit up and lighter and threw it on Elio's hardwork. Arabella, who had been filming the entire crime with a hum of her own, paned the camera to Aaron's face as the car blew up.

"Any words to spare?"

"I didn't like the way it was parked, slightly on seventy-two degrees. Very unprofessional, though, no need for hasseling dad and mum about it. I took care of it for you," Aaron smiled at the camera and waved his hands at the burning car.

"Can't believe we polluted the environment for that hag," Elio grumbled under his breath.

"We'll make her go green for the rest of her life. I think she's at the age where she needs that exercise," Aaron smiled. "Now let's go have breakfast with my Rykie!"