the other side

Ethan warned me, yet my heart remained,

For you, Joanne, through every storm, unchained.

Ethan was the kind of older brother who carried an unspoken authority, one that came from years of quietly watching over Joanne. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a sharp jawline that only added to his aura of seriousness. His dark, piercing eyes seemed to see straight through people, cutting to the heart of any matter. Though he wasn't overly expressive, his presence alone was enough to make people think twice about crossing him.

As Joanne's older brother, Ethan had always taken his role seriously. He knew how much his sister valued her independence, and he rarely interfered in her life. But when he saw her retreating into herself, her usual spark dimmed, he knew something—or someone—was responsible. And that someone was Paxton.

Ethan first noticed Joanne's changes when she started skipping family movie nights. Instead, she stayed cooped up in her room, her door slightly ajar, revealing her hunched figure as she stared at her phone or scribbled in her notebook. Her laughter, once a constant in the house, had been replaced by quiet sighs and restless pacing.

One evening, Ethan decided to confront her. He knocked lightly on her door before pushing it open. Joanne looked up, startled, and quickly closed her notebook.

"Hey," Ethan said, leaning against the doorframe. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Joanne replied, avoiding his gaze. "Just tired."

"Jo," Ethan said, his voice soft but firm. "I know you. This isn't just 'tired.' What's really going on?"

Joanne hesitated before sighing. "It's... complicated."

Ethan stepped into the room and sat on the edge of her bed. "Try me."

Joanne hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "It's Paxton," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ethan's eyebrows shot up. "Paxton? What about him?"

Joanne looked down, her cheeks flushing. "I don't know. Things were fine before... but now, it's like he's changed. He's... distant. And then there's Amy."

Ethan's jaw tightened at the mention of Amy. He had never trusted her, with her saccharine smile and overly polished charm. "What about Amy?"

"She's always around him," Joanne said, her voice trembling. "And she says these things, little comments that make me feel... small. Like I'm not good enough."

Ethan's fists clenched. "Jo, you know that's not true. You're more than good enough."

Joanne smiled faintly but didn't respond. Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Have you talked to Paxton about this?"

Joanne shook her head. "What's the point? He listens to her. And honestly... I don't even know if he sees me the same way anymore."

Ethan studied his sister carefully. "The same way?"

Joanne's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. "Ethan, I—"

"You like him," Ethan said, the realization dawning on him.

Joanne didn't deny it. Instead, she buried her face in her hands. Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Jo, if he's too blind to see how amazing you are, that's his loss. But if he's letting Amy get into his head... that's a problem."

Joanne looked up at him, her eyes wide. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ethan said, standing up, "I'm going to have a little chat with Paxton."

Paxton was sitting in the school courtyard, his head bent over his phone, scrolling aimlessly through old photos of him and Joanne. Each image felt like a stab to his heart. He missed her—the way she used to laugh at his dumb jokes, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. But lately, everything felt... wrong. And Amy's constant whispers in his ear weren't helping.

"Hey."

Paxton looked up to see Ethan towering over him, arms crossed. There was an unmistakable tension in Ethan's posture, a warning Paxton couldn't ignore.

"Ethan," Paxton said, standing up. "What's up?"

"We need to talk," Ethan said, his voice low and steady.

Paxton frowned. "About what?"

"Joanne," Ethan said bluntly.

Paxton froze. "What about her?"

Ethan took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "She's my sister, Paxton. And I don't like what I've been seeing lately."

Paxton blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"

"You," Ethan said, his voice sharp. "And that... girl. Amy."

Paxton's expression hardened. "Amy's just a friend."

"Is she?" Ethan shot back. "Because from where I'm standing, she's doing a damn good job of driving a wedge between you and Joanne."

Paxton opened his mouth to respond, but Ethan held up a hand. "Let me finish. Joanne's been hurting, Paxton. She won't say it outright, but I can see it. And instead of being there for her, you're letting Amy fill your head with God knows what."

"That's not fair," Paxton said, his voice rising. "I'm trying to figure things out, okay? Joanne's the one who's been pulling away."

Ethan stepped even closer, his voice low and menacing. "And have you asked yourself why? Or are you too busy listening to Amy's lies?"

Paxton clenched his fists. "You don't understand."

"You're right," Ethan said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I don't understand why you'd let someone like Amy come between you and Joanne. But I'll tell you this—if you keep this up, you're going to lose her. And don't think for a second that I'll stand by and let that happen."

Paxton stared at Ethan, his mind racing. He wanted to defend himself, to explain that he wasn't choosing Amy over Joanne, but deep down, he wasn't sure if that was true.

Later that evening, Joanne found Ethan sitting in the living room, a book in his hands. She hesitated before approaching him. "Hey," she said softly.

Ethan looked up and smiled. "Hey, Jo."

"Did you... talk to Paxton?" she asked, sitting down next to him.

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. I told him to stop letting Amy mess things up."

Joanne bit her lip. "What did he say?"

Ethan sighed. "Not much. But I think I got through to him."

Joanne leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know if it matters. I feel like... maybe it's too late."

Ethan turned to her, his expression softening. "Jo, it's never too late. But you need to be honest with him. Tell him how you feel."

Joanne shook her head. "What if he doesn't feel the same way?"

"Then that's his loss," Ethan said firmly. "But at least you'll know."

Joanne smiled faintly. "Thanks, Ethan. For everything."

Ethan reached out and ruffled her hair. "That's what brothers are for."

Paxton couldn't shake Ethan's words. As much as he hated to admit it, Ethan was right. He had let Amy's opinions cloud his judgment, and in doing so, he had hurt Joanne—the one person who mattered most to him.

That night, Paxton sat in his room, staring at his phone. His finger hovered over Joanne's name in his contacts. He wanted to call her, to apologize, to make things right. But he didn't know where to start.

Finally, he typed out a message: Jo, can we talk?

He stared at the screen, his heart pounding. After a few moments, he hit send.