ROOMATES

EPISODE 7

(Alexandria’s POV)

By the next morning, the flat smelled like burnt toast and stranger smell.

Ethan was in the kitchen humming off-key, wearing Liam’s T-shirt like a thief. Liam, meanwhile, stood by the counter looking like he was regretting every gene they shared.

“Morning, sunshine,” Ethan said when he spotted me. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” I said. “If the baby lived next to a karaoke bar.”

Liam muttered into his mug, “He doesn’t have an off switch.”

“I do,” Ethan said. “I just don’t use it.”

I grabbed a piece of toast from the plate. “So, brother dearest, how long are you planning on staying here?”

Ethan grinned. “Oh, just until the power’s back in my flat. Could be a day… or three… or never.”

Liam’s expression suggested he was calculating murder sentences in his head.

“Lovely,” I said. “The more, the merrier. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Exactly,” Ethan said, raising his coffee like a toast. “Team flatmates for lifee.”

Liam sighed. “Team therapy.”

---

By afternoon, I’d learned a few things:

1. Ethan could charm a door hinge.

2. He told stories like a podcast host who’d had too much caffeine.

3. He and Liam had enough sibling tension to power the entire block.

They bickered about everything like, whose turn it was to wash dishes, which playlist to use, even the correct way to slice bread.

At one point, I walked in to find Ethan dramatically holding a loaf like Hamlet.

“To cube, or not to cube...”

“Put the knife down,” Liam said flatly.

I couldn’t stop laughing. “Are you two like this all the time?”

“Only when he’s breathing,” Liam said.

Ethan winked. “Sibling love. Don’t be jealous.”

“Oh, trust me,” I said. “I’m not.”

' I'm so glad I am an only child ' I muttered under my breathe.

---

That night, while Liam worked in his room, Ethan and I ended up on the couch watching The Great British Bake Off.

“You ever see him laugh?” Ethan asked referring to liam, mouth full of popcorn.

“Actually, yes. Once. When I tripped over my own shoelace.”

He grinned. “Sounds right. He’s always been like that...quiet, serious and allergic to fun.”

“You make him sound ancient.”

“He’s thirty, but mentally seventy.”

I laughed. “So what’s the big brother secret? He robbed a bakery? Join a cult?”

Ethan’s smile faltered just slightly. “Nah, nothing dramatic. He just… used to be different.”

“Different how?”

He hesitated, then shrugged. “He was a musician , a back door type musician , who sings at special occasions back then. Played piano, guitar , wrote songs. The real deal. But after Mom died , it was just us and dad, he sort of… stopped.”

That made me pause. “Stopped? Why?”

Ethan leaned back, tossing popcorn in the air. “Responsibility. Bills. Life. He always thought music was a luxury, not something we could survive on. So he locked it away somewhere.”

I looked toward Liam’s closed door, picturing him sitting there, headphones in, pretending he didn’t hear us. Something about that made my chest ache.

“Does he still play?” I asked softly.

“Only when no one’s around,” Ethan said. “And only sad songs.”

---

Later, when I went to my room, I paused by the hallway. From behind Liam’s door, faint and careful, came the sound of a guitar.

It wasn't loud, more like all his confidence slipping away ,each string he pulls , like a memory escaping.

Probably Ethan's idea to make him play again.

I leaned against the wall, listening. It was soft and beautiful, the kind of melody that made you wish you hadn’t ever laughed at him for color-coding the kitchen.

When the last note faded, I whispered to the quiet air, “So that’s your talent, neat freak.”

And for some reason, it made me smile.

---

The next morning, I found him in the kitchen again, same mug, same calm as if nothing ever happened as usual, this is annoying.

“Morning,” he said, eyes flicking up. “Sleep well?”

“Beautifully,” I said sadly, grabbing my toast. “By the way… nice song last night.”

He froze, mug halfway to his lips. “You were awake?”

“Maybe.”

He groaned softly. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“Too late. You’re talented, Liam.”

He met my gaze , he was back on guard but something flickered there. Maybe pride. Maybe panic.

Ethan wandered in just then, ruining the moment completely. “Oh, you told her, did you? Good man.”

“I didn’t tell her,” Liam said.

“I found out,” I said cheerfully.

Ethan clapped his hands. “Brilliant! Group jam session tonight?”

“Absolutely not,” Liam said.

“Absolutely yes,” I said at the same time.

Ethan grinned. “You two

are adorable.”

Liam exhaled like a man facing destiny. “I hate this.”

“You love it,” I teased.

And maybe

just maybe

he smiled.