FALLING HARD: THE BAD BOY AND ME

WEB OF LIES

DARREN

It never crossed my mind. I was aware of my features that matched my father's to a great deal. My friends even joked about me being too contrasting with what my twin looks like. At 18, we are the complete opposite of each other.

My mother gave birth to unidentical twins 18 years ago. But we are non-identical in all respects. From our outlook to life choices. We are the north pole and the south pole. At least this was what I was made to believe.

She's a tall, lean, creamy-skinned and weak lady with black hair. I am a little taller than her, with my skin comparatively tanner than hers. With brown hair and eyes, an aristocratic nose and a distinct V jawline, I am what the girls say, a handsome hunk. But when I stand next to my twin, my confidence shatters because she is a true angel.

Since childhood, it used to pester me as to why she had blue eyes. Nobody in my family ever had such beautiful eyes. And god was unfair to have her everything from beauty to brain. Her straight black hair, her small round face that is adorned with distinct dimples, soft and rosy red lips and not to forget her sharp mind. All these, kind of, make me feel small in front of her.

'Why wasn't I anywhere close to her? Why was she so different from the rest of the girls in our class? Forget about the girls in the class. Why was she so different from even my mother or father?' I was forced to think about it.

If she did not speak our language, then people would think that she was a foreigner in our country. To be precise, an European. And for that reason, she is the odd one out in the Fezong family.

....

She was different from all of us. I always knew that but I never thought that she might be somebody that my parents adopted. I only recently came to know that they had adopted her the day I was born. And all this while, I had to share with her all that solely belongs to me. The love and affection of my mother, the protection of my father, our family name and riches. I shared those equally with her. It was even set, as my grandparents used to tell us when we were young, that our business empire was also set to be divided in the near future into two. 50 % would be mine and the rest would belong to her.

My great grandfather was amongst the first generation of billionaires in town. He led the foundation of our Shree tea industry. My grandparents worked day and night to expand that business and now father has been putting all his efforts into maintaining the hard-earned status and reputation of our tea company.

The company which had drained three generations of the Fezong family's blood and sweat needs to be preserved well. It is not a matter of joke to stand where it is today. And when the beverage that we produce has been getting harder competition from other beverages and also other tea brands, how would I, being the heir to our company, take it lightly?

My forefathers did not work hard for the company merely to give half of its shares to a nobody, a possible illegitimate child of my father. I have to make sure to stop this from happening. Our family does charity. A lot of it. And my dear mother even donated a multi-million company to charity herself. But I am not questioning her rationale. Maybe she deemed that necessary as far as her mental peace was concerned. But she should also have thought about those workers who lost their jobs because of her irrational behaviour.

Maybe our company might have taken a countable number of them on our own. But still several hundreds might have faced unemployment because of the decision that my coma-inflicted mother made back then. However, that was history.

My family is known to be kind-hearted to the ultimate level. People who could donate multi million earnings to charity were the ones that adopted Culture, whom they even deemed to be my twin. And such are the people who should not be trusted. They were the ones who split everything, from their affection, empathy, care etc., upon which I had the sole authority. And if this continues, I am sure that that day is near when the billion dollars worth of Shree Tea Industries will be divided into two halves.

But I have also made my decision that this arrangement would not continue anymore. Culture gets nothing that is meant for me. She gets nothing that is mine. She won't get a penny from our company. And that's final.

I started scratching my note copy with the tip of the ball pen as harshly as I could. I always suspected that Culture isn't my own sister. But I had never really thought that she would turn out to be my father's dirty mess.

I learned about her identity a few days back. I came to know that my father had a lover with whom he had a baby girl. And my dear mother had to accept that filth in our house, fearing that the repute of the Fezong Family would be at stake.

Huh? What an irony?

I don't understand, why do elites have to be infidels?

I have a friend whose father is still a playboy. His father brings women, a lot younger than him, to his home. But his father is helpless. A person who loved his wife with all he had was left behind with a small child when she was burnt to ashes in a car explosion. Ashley, my friend kind of, accepted his father's helplessness and let him do whatever he wanted.

But in our case, my father is solely responsible for creating such havoc. My mother must have loved him so much that she was able to forgive him and accept Culture as her own. And my grandparents did the same. But what about me? My blood boils when I think about that. I cannot forgive my father for cheating on my mother. And I cannot accept his dirty little mess. The trash can, also known as Culture Fezong.

Truth, no matter the depth it is hidden, should be unearthed one day or the other. Learning the facts about my sister somehow eased my heart, but it somehow angered me too. I was feeling mixed emotions. I always thought that father loved Culture more because she is intelligent and the most sought after heir to our business. Anyways, now I understand why he always takes Culture's side in almost everything.

What must he be thinking? He must be thinking that I would never learn about his secret affair with that woman. And that her daughter that she left over my father's custody will get half of our family business.

'Huh! That would not be possible even in their dreams!'

Now it is even more necessary to eradicate Culture from our family picture. She was a parasite who was sucking my mother's blood all this while. She was the unwanted and ugly duckling that was tainting the repute of our family. And because of that reason itself, she was given a residence in our mansion and in our lives. But different bird species don't flock together.

She has gotten everything until now. What more does she need? She got our family name, she stole my father's love and care, and she also stole my father away from my mother. She took away everything from me and my mother.

And I will not let her take it anymore. She needs to pay for everything she takes. Even the air that she breathes when staying in our mansion.

........

"Brother, let's go. Its dinner time. Everyone is waiting for you." Culture called me right on time.

'I am not your brother anymore. And who told you to enter my room without permission?' I said as rudely as I could. It was her fault, after all, to enter my room when my blood was boiling to have her pay for everything that she had taken away which originally belonged to me.

"Brother, why are you acting funny? Are you practising for tomorrow's act?" She smiled at me, showing her dimples.

'Whatever!'

I slammed the note copy on the table, loud enough to make her startled. I stormed out of the room, dashing her away from my path.

I started hating her after knowing that she must be a mudblood. I started to hate her, knowing that she must be my stepsister. Oh! I have started to hate her existence ever since I realised the truth. And I will not spare any second to let her know how much I disdain her.

"Brother?"

I heard her call but chose to ignore it. I had to carve out a strategy to make her feel the pain that she needed to feel about stealing what belonged to me. I had to make her suffer and for that I had to come up with a perfect bullying strategy.

I have to save my family business from a parasite like her. My grandmother told me how my great grandfather built this Shree tea industry with his blood, sweat and tears. I cannot let a freeloader have a 50% share of everything.

....

"Mother, he told me that he is not my brother today." Culture said, pointing her fingers around at me. We were having dinner peacefully, until she had to talk about that issue.

Wasn't that in between me and her? Who is she to try to use my mother as her shield?

My rage started escalating at this thought.

"Is she telling the truth Darren?" I heard my father, right away.

'Father, she is my sister. I said that only to see her reaction.' I said with greeting teeth and a false smile.

"He even slammed his note copy on the table." She complained, again.

'Did you?' My father eyed me with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"No mother, I did not." Looking at my mommy, I tried reasoning. But I knew what I was going to do to her once we finished dining.

...

"Oh! It's nothing. Come here. Come to your granny, both of you." Opening her arms wide, grandmother called us. She said that Fezongzs don't fight with their family. And that we had a whole bunch of outsiders ready to attack our company. They are always ready to bring us down. And one day, the responsibility of this business and our family will rest upon our shoulders. We had to be strong and united, so that nobody else could break us down. But what did she know? I was planning to snatch away everything that belongs to me from her illegitimate granddaughter.

It never occurred to me until today that I had to be much stronger and more powerful than Culture, if I intended on saving my family and my business from her. She has imprinted her roots strongly on our lives. Everybody loves her. I loved her too. There is no denying the fact that she is the apple of my father's eyes. Maybe I don't exist in his life at all. Or that he is intentionally making it harder for me.

Mother loves us both, equally. But I want her to stop doing that. I am the only child that she gave birth to. I am the only person who should own all her empathy. I am the only true heir to the Shree tea industry. It is a must that Culture should give away what belongs to me.

It is a must that she learns what she has done wrong. It is a must for her to realise that she was a mistake that my father made. It is a must for her to know that she has made a mistake, an unintentional one. And that mistakes are meant to be corrected.

As for her, she needed to give back everything that she plundered from me. This is the only way to make her pay and I am going to make her regret getting born, as a mistake in the first place.