I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror, and sighed at it for the millionth time.
Up until the moment, my family (stepmother and siblings) had been nothing but a myth. Yes, a myth. The kind I only heard about in tales, but one I still wore as bragging rights, even if said rights didn't want me. I had decided I could live with that, as long as the mention of five big brothers to my bullies sent them dwindling with their tails between their legs. I didn't need any of them anyway. Then.

When my mom died twelve years ago, my grandma, who also died a year ago took me in. We lived cities away from my family, so I'd never really got to know anyone of them, not even my dad. Yet I still heard when people from my mom's side talked about them. They, like my grandma supposedly lived in a supposedly very grand home somewhere in the country. I'd heard that my stepmom was a very tough woman, and people also always said that she didn't like me too much.
Understandable, yet, deep inside I'd hoped they were wrong, I'd hoped she would like me just as her own daughters. I'd been too young to go looking for them.
And when I was old enough, my teenage angst and I sat down in a discussion and decided that if I was old enough to seek them out, they were much older so they had to know better. If they wanted me, they knew where to find me. So when grandma died, I decided to find a job and sustain a humble life with no one but myself and the grandeur of my grandma's mansion. That was before it happened anyway. But either way,  I was better off alone than with people who wanted nothing to do with me. Until I had to swallow my pride, until I had to seek them out. Sooner rather than later.

In preparation for my conquest, which only two of my brothers and one sister knew about, I'd set a strategy, which included sending out friend requests to every one of them on Facebook. That had been a month earlier, and we'd been talking since then. You don't just go and ask someone for favors after twelve years of not knowing you, that's plain stupid. Something I wasn't.

So here I stood, it was eleven in the morning, and I was reapplying my makeup for the umpteenth time. My nerves weren't keen on letting my makeup see the light of day, as it was being washed off by sweat dripping down my hairline every other minute. I gave up on it. In a lilac flowery sun dress for a change from my usual jeans, I tied my curls up in a high ponytail, put some red lipstick and a little mascara. I didn't want to appear like I was trying too hard. Yet I didn't want it to seem like I didn't try at all. Twelve years was a long time.

I walked over to my small bedside table and picked up my phone to call a cab,-another change from my motorbike- after which I sat down and weighed out the pros and cons of calling and telling them I couldn't make it.

"You can do this Taylor," I told myself. "It's just your family, it's just one day." It was just going to be one day, no need to panic. Yet, I never said I wasn't panicking. Like a lifeline, I held on to those words. And like a mantra I kept repeating them for as long as it took the cab to get to my small apartment. Sighing, I picked up my crossbody bag and walked out the door, stopping when my phone rang.

"Mrs. J," I said. 

Mrs. Johnson was my really less than nice boss boss at a small newspaper distribution company where I'd been working for the past six months. I'd wanted to collect enough money to see me through school. Clearly, it wasn't going according to plan or I wouldn't have been on my way that morning. It was a strange call coming from a strange woman, and also considering I didn't work Sundays but I didn't think much into it, I don't even think I was listening, until she said why she had called.

"I'm sorry Taylor," she said. "you've been a really great girl and employee but we're cutting down on the list due to lack of funds."

I'd lie and say I was surprised but I wasn't, bad luck and my life had been life long best friends.
Great. Things seemed to be getting better and better with each passing day. I sighed, "no problem Mrs. J, I understand perfectly."

"Thank you Taylor I believe you will---"

I cut the call off before she could start playing pretend. She was a rude woman naturally, never mind as a boss. She never cared to know what my name was before, in fact, she called me different names on a daily basis ranging from Sandra to Dorothy and everything in between, all except my name. So she wasn't about to pretend she cared where I go from here.

It was going to be a long, long day.

....~....
Their eyes were judging me.

Being a side child had its perks, getting poked by people's eyes, being scrutinised and looked at like an experiment specimen wasn't one of them. Yet, if I'd learned anything from the catastrophe that was my life, was to never back down and let people look down on me. So I stood my ground, smiled and held their eyes with a confidence I barely felt. Even if in the moment, I was anything but. If I was going to get plastic smiles, I was going to give out plastic smiles.

It was funny really, I loved every single one of my siblings. I used to talk about them to my friends at school with a lot of pride. And in the moment, as we sat in their living room, they could have been looking at me like any normal person, or like any siblings would. Yet, years of not hearing from them, of my existence being ignored by them, of hearing rumours that none of them wanted me, were enough for my mind to be biased. They might have been happy to see me, just as I was, but I was too blinded by my issues to see it that way.
The fact that my last name was Swift and theirs was Kutcher did not do much to help my case.

"Tay?! Oh my God you've...oh my! You've grown so much!" That was my stepmom, interrupting my train of thought as she hugged me fiercely. She was a strikingly beautiful woman with high cheekbones, bright brown eyes that bordered on gold, and stood at an intimidating height with a waterfall of sleek black hair down her back. She had been out with the three of my sisters when I arrived. Apparently, people went to church on Sunday. The last time I did was on grandma's wake.

I smiled. "Hello mom," grandma had taught me better than to hear me call her by her name, she'd be turning in her grave if I did. Not that I wanted to. Having had no mother growing up, I always referred to the lady as mom in my heart and during conversations.

"Hi Taylor!" All of my sisters; Andy, Ayla and Ian said in unison, I guessed being triplets did that to them. I loved having sisters, yet I didn't think any of them loved having me. Not that they weren't smiling or anything. My brother Mason, the one that since a month ago cared a little more about my existence walked in just then, he was around twenty eight years I presumed, and he was the one I was here to see. I all but leapt off the couch. I felt like I loved him more out of them all. Perhaps it was because we had the same striking blue eyes.

Weird reason to love someone, I know.

"Brother!" I had to remind myself that it wouldn't be wise to cry in front of them so I held back my tears as I wrapped my arms around his frame and buried my head in the crook of his neck.

"Whoa whoa! Slow down Blue!" He grinned widely, hugging me back before pulling my face back. He held my head between his palms. "How have you been?" he asked incredulously, perusing my face as if he couldn't believe I was really here.

Oh you have no idea! I thought. Just peachy.