The strongest souls are forged in the fires of despair. — Unknown
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✧ ANGELUS ✧
This is so annoying. Twelve freaking hours—almost thirteen now! I've watched nearly every movie I could think of. The last one was a total snooze-fest, and now I'm just tired, bored, and barely keeping my eyes open.
"Michael, are we not there yet?" I asked with a sigh, slumping in my seat. He gave me a small smile, just as the flight attendant's voice came over the intercom.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent, please ensure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely—"
"And that answers your question," Michael cut in, turning to me. "Welcome to Los Angeles, kiddo."
"Ladies and gentlemen, we've just been cleared to land at Los Angeles International Airport. Please double-check that your seat belts are securely fastened. Flight attendants will be coming through the cabin to—"
"What's with the 'X' in LAX anyway?" I asked, shifting in my seat. "I know it stands for Los Angeles International Airport, but shouldn't it be LAIA?"
Michael chuckled. "There's no real reason. They just added the 'X' when airport codes switched to three letters. But hey, LAX sounds cooler, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "Even when you say it—it's way easier and smoother than 'LAIA.'"
He laughed, and at that moment, the plane touched down with a light bump.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Los Angeles International Airport. Local time is 21:49 and the temperature is 36 degrees Fahrenheit. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the captain has turned off the seat belt sign…"
"Ugh," I groaned, letting my head fall back against the seat. "They should just stop talking already. I'm done. I haven't slept since we started this journey. I need a bed."
"Just hang in there, buddy," Michael said, stretching a bit. "Kelsey should be waiting for us. We'll be out of here soon."
✧ KELSEY ✧
"Michael, over here!" I called out, running toward him and throwing my arms around him in a warm hug.
"Aww, someone definitely missed her big bro," he said, wrapping his arms around me with a smile.
"Hey Michael, how was the trip?" Salvy asked as he stepped forward to grab their luggage.
"It was fine, Salvador—"
Ahem.
Someone cleared their throat behind Michael, snapping our attention in that direction.
"Can we get going already?" the guy said with a sharp tone, clearly irritated.
"Oh, sorry. Angelus," Michael said quickly, then turned back to us. "Everyone, this is Angelus. Angelus, meet Kelsey—my little sister—and Salvador, her driver."
"Hi," I said, eyeing him curiously. I tried to match his name to his face. Angelus… the name's actually kind of pretty. But the guy? Nothing about him matches it. He didn't smile, didn't even try. He just stood there, stiff, looking like he didn't want to be here.
He let out a yawn. Okay, maybe he's just exhausted.
"Hi," he said flatly, still not smiling.
"Encantado de conocerte," Salvy chimed in with a grin.
Angelus gave him a confused look and frowned like someone had just insulted his mother.
"Salvy…!" I nudged him, shaking my head.
He chuckled. "It means 'nice to meet you'... in Spanish," he clarified. Still, Angelus didn't react—just stood there, stone-faced.
Ugh. I don't like people who act all cold and bossy. No warmth, no vibe—just ice.
He turned away from Salvy, locked eyes with Michael, and gave him a look. One of those we-need-to-go-now kind of glares.
Michael got the message. "Alright, alright. It's been a long flight," he said, throwing his hands up a bit. "Angelus and I are both pretty wiped. Let's head home."
...…
The time read 11:05 PM as we drove into the compound. I was in the back seat, sitting beside the ever-silent Angelus, who was sleeping like a baby—peaceful, calm, like he didn't have a care in the world. Meanwhile, Michael and Salvy were up front, chatting and laughing like old friends.
We had stopped at a restaurant earlier, but Angelus refused to eat. Michael tried—seriously, he tried. Practically begged him. But nope, Angelus just sat there, arms crossed like he was some kind of royal. I hate people like that. Isn't he from Africa? Why is he acting all... bossy?
Salvy parked at the front entrance, and a couple of the maids came rushing out to take our bags. I got down, brushing my hair over my shoulder, and headed inside behind the rest.
"Mikey, you're back!" Mom said with that excited tone she always uses when he returns from one of his trips. She hugged him tight.
"How you doing, Mum?"
"I'm alright, dear." She pulled back, smiling, then looked past him—and her eyes landed on Angelus. "Wow! You've grown. The last time I saw you, you were so small. Come here!"
She stretched out her arms, and he walked into them quietly, embracing her without a word. Still no smile. Not even a twitch.
What is with this guy? Is he allergic to smiling or what? No matter how tired you are, you smile when someone hugs you like that. Show some gratitude at least. Especially someone like him. I mean, let's be real—he's from Africa, right? And everyone knows Africa's poor. Michael's helping him, giving him a life here in L.A., and this is how he acts? Like we're the ones lucky to have him?
I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Oh crap," under my breath. I pulled out my phone and popped in my earpiece.
"Goodnight, everyone," I said quickly and turned to head upstairs. I'm not the type to put up with nonsense, especially from someone who can't even manage a 'thank you.'
"Kelsey, wait! Let's show our guest to his room," Michael called out.
I groaned, hard. "I'm pretty sure you can handle that. I don't see why—"
Then I saw it. The look.
He raised his eyebrows, twisted his mouth to the right, and tilted his head sideways like he was laying it on a pillow. That look. The one he only gives me when something actually matters. I sighed so hard I nearly deflated. "Ugh, fine. Let's go."
Angelus yawned, covering his mouth lazily. Mom's hand rested on his shoulder like she was guiding royalty into the palace. I followed behind with Michael, trying not to roll my eyes too hard.
But hold on a sec...
Why all this special treatment? What is he—family or something? Could he be my mom's child from another man? Some secret love child stashed away in another country?
No. That's ridiculous. He's black, I'm white. It's not even close—though he's so fair-skinned that you almost forget. There's even something... almost Asian in his features. Still, no way. I shook the thought from my head.
What's his deal, though? Because whatever it is, I don't like it.
"Alright Angelus, welcome to the Bauer abode! This is your room," Michael said as we stepped inside.
"The toilet's over there, and there's the—"
"Don't worry about those. I'll figure them out myself tomorrow," Angelus cut him off, already sitting on the bed like he owned the place. He dropped his phone and headphones on the stool next to him and leaned back like we were the guests.
"Alright then… I'll come pick you and Kelsey up after school tomorrow, so you can go fix yourself up," Michael said, glancing at me with that you-better-not-start-anything look.
"Angelus will be going with you to school from tomorrow. Just make sure to show him around."
I let out a sharp scoff and gave Michael a glare. "Ugh! Why me? He's so arrogant!" I snapped before I could stop myself.
They all looked surprised—except Angelus, who, as usual, acted like I was invisible. Like I didn't just insult him to his face. He just yawned, stood up, and grabbed his towel.
"Goodnight Mrs. Bauer. Goodnight Michael. See you guys in the morning," he said, handing Michael his phone before walking off to the bathroom without even a glance in my direction.
"Goodnight, dear!" Mom called after him sweetly. She actually sounded impressed by his lifeless "goodnight."
I was already in the corridor by then, arms folded and head tilted. I just wanted everyone to wrap things up so I could go to bed too.
"See you tomorrow, buddy!" Michael added before gently shutting the door.
As Mom joined me in the corridor, she gave me that we-need-to-talk look.
"So, Kelsey," she started, "what was that about?"
"What's what about?" I said, playing dumb. I knew exactly what she meant, but I wasn't going to admit it that easily.
"Your outburst toward Angelus. What made you say he's arrogant?"
"C'mon, you know he's arrogant! Since the moment he stepped foot in this house, he hasn't smiled once! He's so cold and rude! And don't even get me started on how ungrateful he is! You literally brought him out of some poor background and he's acting like we owe him."
That's when they both burst into laughter. Like, real laughter. I just stood there, blinking at them.
"Did you just say… poor background?" Michael repeated, trying not to choke on his laughter.
"Sweetheart," Mom said, gently placing a hand on my shoulder, "he's not from a poor background."
"Yeah," Michael added, still amused. "His family might actually be richer than us."
I stared at them, stunned. "But… I mean… look at him! He looks so… so…"
"Unkempt? Bushy? Rough?" Michael finished for me with a smirk.
"Yeah! All that!" I agreed quickly, glad he understood where I was coming from.
Mom sighed and gave me that motherly rub on the shoulder—the one that means you're about to feel bad. "Angelus is going through a very hard time. He lost his father and brother in a car accident. His mom's in a coma as we speak."
"What?" My voice softened, surprised by how heavy that sounded.
Michael nodded, his tone serious now. "He was in the car with them when it happened. His dad and brother died instantly. He and his mom were in comas. He just woke up two weeks ago—with amnesia."
"He's not always like this," Mom added. "Before the accident, he was sweet. Funny. A bit of a goofball, really. But after he woke up… he changed."
I stood there, stunned. I didn't know what to say.
"Wait—he has amnesia?" I asked, not sure I even believed it.
"Yeah. Doesn't remember much about who he was or what he liked. He's still recovering, and emotionally? He's a mess," Michael said, serious now.
"Oh…" I looked down, feeling something I didn't expect—guilt. "But that still doesn't explain why he looks so rough."
"We'll fix that tomorrow," Michael said with a shrug. "Right now, he's just trying to stay sane. Give him time."
I sighed, crossing my arms again. I mean, I've never heard of amnesia that makes someone forget how to brush their hair, but okay. Still… that's a lot. I guess I'll give him a break. A small one.
"Alright… goodnight," I said, already walking away.
I may not like him… but maybe I'll stop hating him. Maybe.
But one thing's for sure—with his attitude; there's no way we're living together in peace.
Not a chance.
Still… let's see how it goes.