A/N CHECK COMMMENT
JAY JAY POV
I woke up and the first thing I saw was Jare. He was still right there next to me, just like he promised. But man, seeing how he was positioned? His back must be hurting like hell. I felt a tiny bit of guilt—just a tiny bit—for making him stay like that all night.
I tried to wake him up normally first. "Jare, wake up," I said, nudging him. He didn't even flinch. Typical. I tried again, louder this time. "JARE!"
Still nothing. Seriously, this guy is an idiot. How can someone sleep that deeply after everything?
I looked at the glass of water sitting on the side table. I sighed. I'm sorry, Kuya, but desperate times call for desperate measures. You leave me no choice. I grabbed the glass, aimed carefully, and splashed it right onto his face.
"JAY JAY!" Jare yelled, jolting awake like he'd been electrocuted. Water was dripping off his nose and he looked completely lost.
"Sorry, Kuya!" I said immediately. I shifted into my best angelic voice—the one I use when I know I've pushed my luck too far. I widened my eyes and tried to look as innocent as possible, because knowing him, he was probably two seconds away from actually killing me.
actually dead. Then, without a word, he grabbed the water bottle from the nightstand and splashed the whole thing right back at me.
"JARE!" I yelled, wiping my face.
"Hahahaha!" He started laughing like a complete maniac, the tension from earlier finally breaking—at least for him.
"JARE!" I yelled again, grabbing a towel to dry off. "That was literally my last clean shirt for the morning!"
"What? You asked for it," Jare said, still grinning. "We're equal now. Consider yourself lucky that's all I did, Trouble."
I rolled my eyes and huffed, heading into the bathroom to change and get ready for the day. But the moment I shut the door and the laughter died down, that heavy, suffocating silence came back.
I leaned against the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked tired. The dream. It was still there, sitting like a weight in my chest. Why did it feel so real? I tried to think back to the "accident," the reason why I ended up living with Lola. I've always hated Jeana, but I always told myself it was just because she was a shitty mother who was never there.
But what if it wasn't just that? What if my brain was hiding something else?
Damn it. Is it real or not?
Suddenly, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my temples. It felt like someone was trying to hammer their way out of my skull.
"AHhhhh!" I yelled out, clutching my head and sliding down against the cold bathroom door.
"Jay Jay, go.""Come here... don't make us do it.""Just give in..."
The voices were so clear, like they were standing right there in the bathroom with me. They weren't just echoes; they were memories tearing through the wall I'd built in my head.
"JAY! WHAT HAPPENED?!" Jare's voice boomed from the other side of the door, followed by a frantic knock.
I gritted my teeth, trying to breathe through the pain. "Nothing happened! I'm just... testing your alert skills!" I managed to choke out, even though the room was spinning and my head felt like it was on fire.
"Please don't... please don't touch me..."
The sound of my own sixteen-year-old voice begging made me want to throw up. The pain intensified, a white-hot flash behind my eyes.
"AHHHHHH!" I screamed again, unable to stop it this time. It felt like my brain was physically breaking.
"JAY! Open this door! Open it right now!" Jare yelled, the handle rattling violently. "JAY-JAY!"
I couldn't move. I couldn't reach the lock. I just stayed there on the floor, trapped between the brother trying to save me and the past that was finally catching up.
Jare didn't even wait for me to answer. I heard a loud, violent crack, and the doorknob practically flew off its hinges as he forced the door open. He looked like his entire world was ending.
"Jay! What happened?" he asked, dropping to his knees beside me on the cold tile.
"Jare..." I choked out, my hands still pressed firmly against my ears, trying to drown out the echoes. "Please... please make the voices stop. Tell them to go away."
He grabbed my wrists, gently but firmly pulling my hands away from my head so I would look at him. "Hey, hey. Look at me. Nothing happened, Jay. None of it. Remember what I told you? It's just your brain playing tricks on you. Stress, exhaustion... that's all it is."
He was wiping my tears away with his thumbs, but his own hands were shaking.
"But why does it feel so real?" I whispered, my voice trembling with a fear I couldn't control. "It's like I was actually there, Jare. I can still feel the cold. I can hear myself... I was begging them—"
"Nothing happened, Jay!" he cut me off. His tone was sharp, almost desperate. It was like he was trying to command the universe to make it true.
He pulled me into a tight hug, holding my head against his chest. I buried my face in his shoulder, sobbing into his shirt. Just as I started to settle, I felt a drop of something warm hit my neck.
I pulled back, looking at his face in shock.
"Why are you crying?" I asked him. My heart twisted. Jare was the tough one. Jare didn't cry.
He looked away for a second, his jaw tight, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a pain I didn't understand. "I just... I can't see my sister like this, Jay. It kills me."
I swallowed hard, feeling like a burden. I didn't want to be the reason he was hurting. I forced a small, shaky smile and wiped my face with the back of my hand. "See? I'm okay now. I'm fine. Look, I'm not crying anymore."
Jare stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. There was something in his gaze—something that looked like guilt—but he quickly masked it. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead, a rare moment of pure tenderness.
He muttered something under his breath, his voice a low rumble.
"Say it louder," I nudged him, trying to bring back our usual vibe.
"I'm saying we need to get you a hearing aid," he snapped back, his voice returning to that usual arrogant, teasing tone. The mask was back on. The Jare I knew was back.
I pushed him, a small, genuine laugh finally escaping my lips. "Asshole."
"Whatever, Trouble. Get dressed. We have a long day ahead of us," he said, standing up and offering me a hand to pull me off the floor.
As I took his hand, I tried to push those voices back into the dark corners of my mind. I wanted to believe him. I needed to believe that it was all just a dream.
But as he walked out of the bathroom, I couldn't shake the feeling that my brother was carrying a weight that was slowly crushing him... and that the weight had everything to do with me.
JARE POV
Asshole.
Yeah, I'm an asshole. I'm a liar. I'm the worst brother in the world because I just looked into my sister's broken eyes and lied straight to her face.
The voices she's hearing? Those aren't "tricks." Those are the ghosts of that abandoned house. Every time she screams, I see those five men again. I see the scratches on her shoulders. I see our mother walking away with that envelope of cash.
Nothing happened, Jay.
I'll say it a thousand times if I have to. I'll gaslight her, I'll yell at her, I'll make her believe I'm the biggest jerk in London—whatever it takes to keep her from remembering that basement.
Because if she remembers, she won't just be "Trouble" anymore. She'll be the girl who was sold. And I won't let her be that girl again.
I walked back to my room, my heart feeling like a block of lead in my chest. I had to get ready for Keifer's birthday
"I'm sorry, Jay," I whispered to the empty room. "But the truth would kill you, and I'm not ready to lose you yet."
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
JAY JAY POV
After that whole emotional breakdown in the bathroom, Jare tried to act like nothing happened. He handed me a box with a smirk on his face. "Wear this. Someone specifically requested it for tonight."
I opened the box and blinked. It was a dress—a deep, stunning shade of blue. It wasn't over-the-top, but it was elegant. Professional yet dangerously pretty.
"Wait, tonight?" I asked, looking up at him. "Where exactly are we going?"
Jare leaned against the doorframe, checking his watch. "To the birthday gala. You know, Keifer's bday party"
My jaw dropped. I almost threw the box at his head. "ARE YOU SERIOUS? The King of Assholes' birthday?! Jare, you didn't tell me! I would have stayed in the Philippines if I knew I had to deal with him today!"
"Relax, Trouble. It's business," he said, waving me off. "Just get dressed."
Asshole. He totally planned this. He waited until I was tired and vulnerable to drop that bomb on me. I spent the next thirty minutes grumbling to myself as I got ready. But I have to admit... the dress was perfect. It hugged my curves in all the right places, and the length was just right. It was like whoever bought it knew my exact measurements and my style.
It was weird. Actually, it was creepy.
I finished my makeup, trying to hide the dark circles under my eyes from the nightmare, and stepped out into the hallway. Jare was already there, looking sharp in a suit, leaning against the wall.
He looked me up and down, and for a second, his protective brother mask slipped into a look of genuine approval.
"He won't be able to control himself," Jare muttered, half to himself.
"What? Who won't be able to control what?" I asked, confused. I was still busy trying to adjust the strap of my shoe.
Jare straightened his jacket and gave me that annoying, knowing smirk. "Your future husband."
My brain stalled for a second. Future husband? Was he talking about that Asshole? Or was he just trying to get under my skin? Either way, my reflexes kicked in before I could even process the insult.
BAM!
I kicked him right in the shin. Hard.
"Gah! Jay! What the hell?!" Jare winced, hopping on one foot and clutching his leg.
"Future husband your face!" I snapped, crossing my arms. "Don't say disgusting things like that, Kuya. I'm only going there to finish whatever business Grandpa has, then I'm out. I am not marrying a snake."
Jare just chuckled, though he was still rubbing his shin. "Whatever you say, Jay-Jay. But don't say I didn't warn you."
I rolled my eyes and walked past him toward the stairs. My heart was still pounding—partly from the anger, but mostly from a lingering nerves. Between the weirdly perfect dress, the dream that felt like a memory, and the "King" waiting for us at the gala... I had a feeling tonight was going to be a disaster.
AT THE PARTY
The venue was grand—too grand. It was one of those London estates that looked like it had been built on centuries of secrets and old money. Black SUVs lined the driveway, and guards with earpieces stood at every entrance. This wasn't just a birthday party; it was a summit for the underworld.
"Jay, just listen to his explanation," Jare told me as we stepped out of the car. He sounded tired, his voice lacking its usual bite.
I stopped in my tracks, the cold London air biting at my bare shoulders. I looked at him, my eyes narrowing. "Jare, whose side are you on?"
It was a valid question. Jare is the kind of brother who would break the legs of anyone who even looked at me wrong. He's my protector, my twin. So, if Jare—the man who just held me while I screamed from a nightmare—was actually defending Keifer, then something was seriously wrong.
"Jay, from your side, it makes sense to hate him," Jare said, looking at the entrance of the gala rather than at me. "But from Keifer's side... he's ready to burn the whole world down for you."
My heart did a weird little flip, but I suppressed it with anger. "Then why hurt me? Why does everything he do feel like a knife in my back?"
Jare finally looked at me, and for a split second, I saw that same shadow of guilt from the bathroom. "I'm not the one to tell you that," he said quietly. "If he wants you to understand, he has to be the one to say it. Just... don't walk away before he gets the chance."
I wanted to scream. I wanted to demand answers. But Jare was already walking toward the entrance, his hand resting on the small of my back to guide me.
I waited outside
"I will come in a bit" I said to Jare
Jare nodded and went inside