Leonardo

A few hours ago

As kids, we were fed the notion that anyone could change. It was a unicorn concept to push kids into brushing their teeth daily or washing their hands. Schools never bothered telling us that this change was only of habits.

During my training, I learned that personalities were the hardened foundations of a person. There was no altering them, nothing to manipulate them.

From the age of three, Antonio had been my shadow. In childhood, he sought refuge from recurring nightmares in my bed, under my covers. Since then, Antonio ceased being my brother and morphed into a sort of son.

His innocent demeanour and the way he used to ask for my permission before doing anything tugged at my heart. I felt like it was my responsibility to protect him at all costs. Not only did I copy Dad's nickname for him - little one - I also offered him the fatherly love my brother never received from our actual father.

So imagine my surprise when I arrived home and heard the rumors about Antonio Brenton. Like a Shakespearean play, the fearful, shy kid had dramatically morphed into an attention-loving, rule-breaking man involved in countless scandals.

Was it a change of personality, one that contradicted all my theories and notions? Or was he hiding his true self?

"How's this tie for tonight?" Antonio's question whirled me out of my thoughts. Several colored versions lay on my bed. My eyebrows furrowed, watching him coordinate in front of my mirror.

"Isn't Haley supposed to be helping with this?" I asked, only to receive a frustrating grunt from him.

"For the last time, Haley's our publicist. Not a stylist."

"Potato, tomato. Then ask your stylist."

"I can't." Antonio rubbed his face vigorously. Crimson spread all along his jawline, his cheeks. "She's on maternity leave. God, why do people have children?"

His lack of concern for a woman's child-birthing rights irked me. "Day by day, you're turning into Dad."

"Stop saying that. You can't judge me for what I want, just like I don't judge you." He pulled all his ties off my bed. "I was there for you, Leo when you wanted to escape the reality about her... About-"

"Navy blue," I said quickly before my brother dredged up the past I wished to forget.

"What?"

"I think navy blue will suit your skin tone."

With a slowly blinked confirmation, he smiled. "You're coming tonight. Right?"

"Do I need to?" When his eyes rolled upward, I knew what needed to be said. "I'll be there, cheering and hooting."

"It's not a match, brother."

"Then I'll do whatever I am supposed to," I yelled after him, as he left my room with his ties tossed over his arm.

By late afternoon, the number of people gathering to help our mansion turn into a palace for Antonio's upcoming engagement party increased. I watched from my window the influx of people emerging from one door and walking into the other.

Our once-silent mansion buzzed with strangers.

"Why are so many people here?" I exited from my room and asked one of the passing workers.

"I don't know, sir. I'm only looking into the floral arrangements," saying that, he scurried.

It was Haley who noticed my frustration as she walked by. Placing her phone into her pant pocket, she moved with me inside my room and latched the door behind me.

"I know this irritates you, but these people are necessary," she said, her subtle smile calming me. Her arms curled around me, pulling me nearer to her. "Tell me, why are you agitated?"

After Antonio set Haley and me on a date, we tried making our relationship work. However, my reluctance to have a girlfriend and Haley's work priority fit like missing pieces into what turned out to be a sleeping arrangement. 

Friends with benefits works for many people and we were apparently among them.

"Why are so many people here?" I asked again, nuzzling my way into the curve of her neck.

"These are our people, Leo, who'll revamp this mansion." Haley eyed me intently to make her point. "They'll ensure that that the place stands out for the architecture or celeb magazines that capture the engagement."

I pulled her closer, my lips inches away from hers as we walked her towards my bed.

"Why do I have to be involved? The last I remember, you were supposed to take me out of the limelight, not push me underneath it."

She giggled, running her fingers over my shirt, popping open a button at a time. Her hand slid inside, and the scrape of her nails awakened my sedated bloodstream. Her hungry eyes watched as I uncaged her from the clutches of her formal attire.

"Just one appearance, sir," she moaned near my ear while my fingers sated the growing desire between her legs. "I'll make sure you are not involved in anything else."

Fifteen minutes later, I left Haley to get dressed while I showered. She sat on the bed, scrolling through her iPad.

I tossed out attires from my closet for the evening, nothing matching the black tie description I was supposed to wear.

"Leo, you'll have to run checks on all press-related questions before Anto and Zem Zem... Dammit..." She walked to the entrance of the closet. "That name's catching on, Leo."

The name Zem Zem stuck after an interviewer quoted me on Antonio's publicized declaration of love. Since then, Zemira became the new media fix.

Her morning routine, her wearables and whatnot became a matter of national importance. She was everywhere - smiling for the cameras, waving at her fans and constantly reminding me of our secret.

"Fine. I'll refrain from using Zem Zem," I turned to her, displaying the attire I'd selected. "Wil this do?"

"Sure, it will." Haley chuckled. "If you're attending a party in the Caribbean island."

She moved me away from the closet, sliding shirts after another on the rack and twisting her face. After what felt like ages, she found a black shirt that fit the clothing requirements of the party.

"This would do." Placing the shirt over my chest, Haley moved back to introspect. "Yup. A pair of cufflinks and a simple blazer and you're good to go."

"Thank you for this," I said, knowing she loved to be in control. May it be while organising an event or simply selecting a shirt to make me stand out. Haley loved pushing her puppets into the limelight. I was one among them.

Late in the evening, I glanced through Haley's checklist and donned the shirt she had selected for me. Walking out of my room, I tugged at the collar that kept grabbing my throat. The echoes of my footsteps accompanied me into the hall.

"You're late, Leo," Mom said as she walked out of her room just as I exited mine. "Anto already left to escort Zem."

"Why don't you come with me, Mom?" I didn't like the idea of leaving her alone. "You can meet new people."

"You want me to meet people at...what's it is called? " She snapped her fingers, narrowing her eyes and trying to find the right word. "Ahh, a rager party. You want me to come to a rager? Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Yup. I'll make it look like an accident and get your insurance money."

I kissed her forehead, rubbing my thumb over her sunken cheeks. She looked up, revealing the heaps of happiness she once had, now rotting at her waterline.

She patted my arm, nudging me toward the door. "Take care of my daughter, would you?"

"Mrs. Brenton, I have another sibling?" I gasped in feigned shock. "And you hid it from all of us!"

"Leoo..." She giggled. "Go before I toss you out."

"Et Tu, Mother."

I drove to the location that centered around the theme - 'Fake Love.'

The crowd posed in a hundred different ways, seeking one perfect shot. Constant flash seared my retinas as I walked in, only to be blinded by the sudden darkness.

In the dimly lit interior of the club, it was difficult to spot anyone unless they doused themselves in neon paint.

The VIP area was the only secluded portion in an otherwise thronged space. The walls around me shook as the music thumped life into them. Nursing my drink, I watched the deranged dance when my peripheral vision captured a distraction, a mirage.

Leaning back at the bar, Zemira exuded the confidence of a Greek goddess. She clasped a shot glass and drained it into her mouth.

Hair tied atop her head, a few wisps fell across her face. Her shoulders tipped up and dropped with the music. Unaccompanied, she sat alone in a world that craved company.

Involuntarily I moved closer to where she sat.

"Of all the gin joints in the world." Words couldn't resist escaping. She had an invisible hold over me.

Zemira turned, mouth agape. Her red dress hugged those slender curves. The slit on its side enticed me. Her magnetic charisma was a black hole from which nothing could escape.

When lights flickered and the music drifted into silence, her sandalwood and expensive soap scent dialed up my intoxication. I was lured to sniff my way into her trap.

Our reality was hidden from the world – one we created with each other in the dark of the night, with our bodies tangled in between sheets. For the rest, we'd pretended to be friendly.

Zemira and I could barely talk normally. She always seemed to challenge me in whatever I said. I always seemed to have riled her up.

Even now, as I began talking to her, all I felt was her walls going up, trying to hide her scared, vulnerable side from everyone. After our usual back-and-forth, with me trying to read her better and her, trying to hide whatever she felt, I gave up, rendering a warning.

"We can't do much about the past, but something can be done about the future."

"You don't have to worry about my future, Leo," she said.

Her words grew the concern I had about the rule-less game Zemira and Antonio had agreed upon. Involuntarily, I began deciphering her enigmatic words and herself in the process.

Something about the way she kept looking away as I spoke had me believe she was safeguarding her heart. With that deduction, I also felt that if I began reading more into her, the façade I'd created for the world would peel off too.

Strong women like Zemira would never seek help unless it was the only way out. Unlike my brother, she wasn't doing it for fame. She was resuscitating her company.

"Leo." She pushed me away like it was the only way to escape my scrutiny. "You're not that good at mind reading."

And you, Zem Zem...are not that good at faking your emotions."

I moved back before she could try gauging me to understand what made her so interesting for my introspection.

I felt her hold over me grow stronger, fusing into my spine as I walked away. I turned around one last time to look at her – a godly view in the crowd of mortals.

Sun-kissed skin and shimmering blue eyes deeper than the ocean and darker than the darkest of nights placed me under hypnosis. Her plump lips and her mesmerizing siren voice never gave me a chance to escape.

Zemira sat with her friend, talking some more before sliding from her seat and moving towards the dance floor. Her wandering gaze scanned everyone before fixating on one.

Antonio turned as she tapped on his shoulder. She was laughing with him. Smiling for him. Their merriment stirred something inside me – something sour.

I escaped from the club. I ran from the reality my mind disagreed to accept.

~

Reality can be harsh. But so can be the unaccepted feelings.

Do you think Leo would ever have a chance to tell the truth to Zemira?

And what was Antonio talking about- him protecting Leo when he left? What do you think must have happened?