Twisted fate

CHAPTER 6; Welcome back!!!

Kemmy's unexpected encounter had stirred something unfamiliar in Christian, and the lingering image of her eyes still haunted his thoughts. He mounted the stairs slowly, a faint smile tugging at his lips—until a familiar voice snapped him back to reality.

“Hi, bro!”

Christian halted on the steps, his head turning sharply.

“Ryan?” he muttered in disbelief.

Ryan stood at the foot of the staircase, his signature confident grin stretching across his face, arms open slightly like he’d just won a game.

“Yes, it’s me,” Ryan said, warmth radiating from his voice and eyes. For the first time in years, there was no edge to his tone—just genuine affection.

Christian blinked, caught off guard. A thousand memories threatened to flood his mind, but he forced a casual smirk.

“You’re welcome, bro,” he said with deliberate sarcasm as he came down the stairs. The two met halfway and exchanged a familiar, forceful slap on the back—a brotherly ritual, half playful, half defensive—and a one-sided hug.

Ryan chuckled as they moved to the living room. Christian collapsed onto the cushion with ease, arms stretched across the backrest. His eyes scanned Ryan curiously.

“So,” Christian began, folding one leg over the other. “How was America? Was it... fantastic?”

Ryan exhaled deeply, plopping into the armchair across from him.

“Honestly? It wasn’t,” he admitted, his voice carrying an unfamiliar softness. “I badly wanted to come back home. I missed this place.”

Christian's eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “Wow,” he muttered, chuckling under his breath. “Nice to know you remembered where home is.”

There was a pause between them—short but loaded with understanding. Then Ryan stood, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt.

“I’ll just go upstairs and take a shower. Jet lag’s already kicking in.”

Christian wrinkled his nose dramatically and waved him off. “Yes, please. Compared to what just happened between us, your sweat stinks!”

They both burst into laughter, the kind that shakes shoulders and eases tension. Ryan threw a playful punch at Christian’s arm and bounded upstairs with a boyish grin.

Left alone, Christian leaned back into the cushions, folding his arms behind his head. A contented smile spread across his face.

“Not bad,” he thought aloud. “Ryan has actually changed.”

But deep down, Christian knew the layers ran deeper.

He hadn't forgotten.

Ryan, the golden boy—the one their mother adored without restraint. The one who, as a boy, smashed the expensive phone their father had bought Christian just to remain the center of attention. The one who taunted him in front of guests, mocked his clothes, and rolled his eyes every time Christian dared to speak.

Lucia never saw anything wrong in Ryan’s behavior. Her bias had been so painfully obvious that Christian stopped expecting her to notice him at all. But his father—Ronald—he saw everything. He protected Christian fiercely, stepping in whenever Ryan crossed the line. And when things got unbearable, he made the decision: Ryan would be sent to America to live with Uncle Dave.

Those two years had been Christian’s only breath of peace.

And now, Ryan was back.

But tonight... tonight had been different. He wasn’t sure if it was real, or temporary, or simply because Ryan had missed home—but for the first time in forever, Christian felt seen.

At dinner, the house pulsed with joy. Laughter rolled freely across the table. Lucia’s eyes sparkled with pride as she served their favorite dishes. Ronald watched his sons like a man witnessing a miracle. Even Christian couldn't help but smile throughout.

He didn’t say much. He just soaked it in.

That night, under soft sheets and a warm blanket, Christian lay in the quiet of his room, staring at the ceiling fan as it whirred above him. He could still hear the distant sounds of Ryan’s laugh echoing faintly from down the hall.

A small part of him wanted this peace to stay.

He rolled onto his side.

But as he closed his eyes, it wasn’t Ryan’s face that lingered in his mind—it was Kemmy’s. The way she flushed when he teased her. The stubborn glint in her eyes. Her scent, her hands in his. The way she whispered, “Please... what if someone sees us?”

Christian sighed and forced his eyes shut.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered to himself. “Don’t go there.”

But the memory refused to leave.

And that was the last thought on his mind before sleep took him.

---

Early Saturday morning, the golden sun spilled gently through the curtains of the Harrison home, casting a warm hue across the modest kitchen. The smell of sizzling eggs and brewed tea filled the air. Mr. Harrison adjusted the collar of his shirt, brushing lint from his jacket as he prepared for another long, uncertain day at work.

At the kitchen table, Shane was already immersed in his sketchbook, a pencil dancing across the pages. Swirls of color, patterns, and bold lines came to life as he imagined the next great fabric design that might one day save his father's company.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Shane grinned, looking up as he noticed his dad silently observing him.

Mr. Harrison stood still, eyes lingering on the paper, his smile faint but proud. “Yes, it is, son. But…” He exhaled, the lines on his face deepening. “We work tirelessly, day and night, and yet… we sell nothing.”

His voice was heavy, burdened with unspoken fears.

Shane leaned forward, his tone firm yet hopeful. “Don’t worry, Dad. I believe things will get better. We just need time… and faith.”

For a moment, Harrison said nothing. Then he placed a hand on Shane’s shoulder and nodded quietly — a small, silent thank you.

“Can we have breakfast now?” Kate’s voice cut softly through the tension, her gentle smile grounding them all.

Mr. Harrison smiled back, grateful. “Yes, yes. Let’s eat.”

Just then, Kemmy padded into the room, her hair still slightly tousled, eyes half-lidded with sleep. She had just finished brushing her teeth, wearing her fluffy blue slippers that whispered against the floor. The scent of food must have pulled her from bed.

She rubbed her eyes and smiled faintly. “Good morning…”

“Good morning, sweetheart,” her mom said, pulling out a chair for her.

Kemmy sat down, letting the warm steam from the food wash over her face. The morning felt calm. The laughter was light. The clinking of spoons and casual chatter made the moment feel untouched, whole.

She took a deep breath and told herself, Let it stay like this. Please.

She pushed thoughts of yesterday far from her mind. Christian’s voice, his grip on her hand, the way he had looked at her—it all felt like a confusing blur she wasn’t ready to untangle. But this morning… this peaceful, bright morning was hers.

At least I won’t see him today, she thought with relief, focusing on her toast and eggs. Let today be normal.

Outside, birds chirped on the windowsill. Inside, the Harrisons shared a rare moment of unity — simple, sacred, and quietly beautiful.

Kemmy was radiant that day, her laughter echoing through the house like sunlight warming a cold room. She was energetic, witty, and effortlessly took control of the atmosphere — dancing between jokes and playful banter. Even her father couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart lightened by the rare sound of joy in his home.

The day unfolded like a dream.

At the shop, Mr. Harrison stood behind his counter, watching in disbelief as customers flooded in. A grand wedding was around the corner, and the town buzzed with excitement. Word had spread about the rich, high-quality fabrics at Harrison’s store — vibrant patterns, luxurious textures, and affordable prices. One after another, bolts of fabric disappeared into eager arms.

Harrison’s hands moved fast, but his smile moved faster. The shelves grew emptier by the hour, his heart fuller with every sale. For the first time in weeks — months — he was able to close shop early, his arms heavy with empty hangers and his wallet blessedly heavier.

By the time he stepped through the front door of his home, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky with swirls of orange and lavender.

“I sold everything!” he announced, eyes bright with victory. “Every last roll!”

Shane jumped from his seat. “Are you serious?!”

Kate turned from the sink, her eyes wide with joyful disbelief. “Oh, Harrison!”

Kemmy spun toward her father, mouth open in a delighted gasp. “You’re joking!”

“No joke!” he laughed, lifting his arms like a champion. “The wedding coming up brought everyone out! And they wanted our fabrics!”

The room erupted. Shane ran to hug him. Kate laughed through tears. Kemmy clapped her hands, spinning in excitement. For a moment, nothing else existed — just a family celebrating a small miracle that felt impossibly big.

But while the Harrisons rejoiced, elsewhere in the city, another story quietly began.

---

In a large house, where silence had settled like dust, Christian sat bored on the couch. The TV flickered, but he wasn’t watching. His brother Ryan was asleep, snoring softly upstairs. Their parents were both at work — gone before sunrise, returning long after dusk.

He let out a long, restless sigh and glanced around.

I need to get out of here.

A vague thought crept into his mind, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was already slipping on his sneakers and grabbing the house keys. With careful steps, he left through the back door, not wanting to wake Ryan.

Whatever it was that pulled him — curiosity, guilt, or something he couldn’t name — he followed it.

---

Meanwhile, in a tall office building, Lucia sat behind her polished glass desk. A fresh folder lay unopened before her, but her eyes weren’t on it. She leaned back slightly, fingers tapping the armrest.

A strange tug came over her — an instinct, a pull.

She pressed the intercom. “George.”

Within seconds, her assistant entered, posture stiff, eyes alert.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I want you to tell the driver to prepare the bus,” she said, her tone crisp and commanding. “Send all the field workers to the local market. I need new designs — fresh ones. If anyone sees something extraordinary, they should bring it back to me immediately. No delays.”

George’s expression didn’t shift, but something flickered behind his eyes. “I’ll do just that,” he said smoothly, bowing his head before turning away.

But as soon as he exited the room, his smile twisted — sharp and bitter.

Harrison. The name made his stomach churn. He remembered the man, the humble shop owner with far too much talent. Designs that should’ve brought him fame. But George didn’t forget humiliation. Not the kind that bruised pride and memory.

“Payback time,” he whispered to himself, a cruel smirk curving his lips.

---

True to his word, George executed the plan — but with a twist.

The company’s field workers scoured the market. They searched stall after stall, flipped through dozens of swatches, questioned vendors, and walked from corner to corner. But they found nothing that matched the level of excellence Lucia demanded.

And when they reached Harrison’s usual spot?

It was locked. Shutters drawn. Not a trace of fabric on display.

George stood at a distance, arms folded, watching with cold amusement. “Perfect,” he muttered. “No one will know about you, Harrison. No one will see your genius.”

He chuckled to himself, eyes glinting with malice as he turned away, pleased with his silent sabotage.

---

Back at the office, Lucia sat waiting. Her heels tapped against the tiled floor, her jaw clenched. When the workers returned empty-handed, their faces sheepish, Lucia didn’t speak right away. She simply stared.

“No results?” she asked finally, her voice dangerously soft.

One of the women nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Nothing exceptional, ma’am. Everything looked… basic.”

Lucia leaned back, disappointed and heavy-hearted. A quiet sadness slipped across her face. She had hoped — maybe even felt — something important was coming.

But now… just silence.

And somewhere out there, hidden behind a locked shop door, the very thing she needed was already slipping through her fingers.

---

A gentle breeze fluttered through the curtains as the family sat around the lunch table, laughter rising here and there between spoonfuls of rice and stew. The scent of grilled tomatoes filled the air, mingling with the comforting sound of clinking cutlery and cheerful chatter.

A sudden knock echoed through the house.

“I’ll get it,” Kate offered, wiping her hands with a towel and rising to her feet.

Kemmy, mid-bite, froze. The knock had sounded innocent enough, but something in her chest tightened. She slowly set her spoon down, her appetite shrinking.

From the door, they heard Kate’s pleasant voice. “Hi, how can I help you?”

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m here to visit Kemmy,” came a voice that made Kemmy’s entire body stiffen.

Her heart skipped.

Christian.

Kate, unaware of the storm that had just entered her daughter’s spirit, smiled warmly. “Come in, please.”

Kemmy’s face dropped. Her spoon clattered against her plate as her fingers lost grip. Every nerve in her body protested. Not today. Not here

Christian stepped into the room, his dressing slightly neater than usual, his face lit with a quiet confidence. His eyes found hers instantly, like magnets locking in place.

“Who’s this?” Harrison asked, rising halfway in his seat with a kind smile.

“Good day, sir. I’m Kemmy’s friend,” Christian said, bowing slightly with respect. His eyes didn’t leave Kemmy’s.

She looked away immediately, her thoughts swirling. Friend? FRIEND?!

“Well, you’re welcome,” Harrison said cheerfully, clapping him on the back. “You can sit beside Kemmy.”

Great.

Christian slid into the empty seat next to her, too close for her liking, but not close enough to push away without raising suspicion. She sat rigid, her hand resting tensely on her knee.

“So, how long have you two been friends?” Kate asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Christian smiled. “Since the very first day we met.”

Kemmy snapped her gaze to him. His smile was calm, disarming. Her jaw clenched.

“Is that so, Kemmy?” Kate turned to her daughter with a knowing smile.

Kemmy forced a laugh, the sound dry in her throat. “Yeah,” she said tightly.

Inside, her heart screamed. What in the world is he doing here?

She pushed her chair back suddenly, her appetite now a distant memory.

“Excuse me. I’m not hungry,” she said, rising to her feet.

Kate looked at her in surprise. “Where are you going, Kemmy? You’re not done eating.”

“I said I’m not hungry,” she mumbled, already walking away.

Behind her, she heard Harrison say, “Go meet her in the room.”

Shane couldn’t hold it anymore. He burst into laughter, slapping his thigh. “Pffft—!”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny, Shane?”

He wiped a tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. “Nothing, Mom,” he chuckled, still grinning.

Kemmy slammed her door shut behind her and leaned against it, letting out a groan.

She could still smell Christian’s cologne.

Her moment of solitude didn’t last. A soft knock came at the door.

She paused. Wait… no one knocks in this house.

Her eyes narrowed. “Christian…” she muttered.

The knock came again.

“What’s your problem?! Just go away!” she shouted, hoping he’d take the hint.

Kate’s voice came from behind the door, calm and unsuspecting. “Why would you say that, Kemmy?” The door creaked open—and in walked Christian, a sly smile on his face.

Kemmy gasped, stunned. “I… I was talking to a bird. It was sitting at my window,” she lied with the least conviction possible.

Kate chuckled lightly. “Alright. I’ll leave you two.” She gently pulled the door shut behind her.

Now alone, Kemmy glared at Christian.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Nothing! Just came to visit,” he said, unbothered. “Is that bad?”

“Of course it’s bad! You’re not welcome here!” she snapped.

Christian raised his eyebrows playfully. “You’ve said that three times now. I’m starting to believe it.”

“Thank you for coming,” she said with a sarcastic curtsy. “Now you can leave.”

Christian slowly stood up and walked toward the door, his smile never fading. “Alright... since that’s what you want… I’ll leave. But…”

“But what?” she shot back quickly.

He turned, looked at her, and smiled. A dimple flashed. Then he winked.

Kemmy’s cheeks flared. Her throat tightened, and she didn’t understand why her stomach suddenly felt like jelly.

“Just go,” she said softly, barely above a whisper.

Christian leaned in slightly. “Say what?” he teased. “Okay. I’m leaving. Bye. See you at school tomorrow.”

He walked out with a smirk, shutting the door gently behind him.

Kemmy slumped into her chair like a deflated balloon, pressing both hands against her cheeks. “Not again,” she muttered. Why does he always win?

Downstairs, Christian returned to the dining table, still grinning. “Bye, ma’am. I have to head out now.”

Kate nodded appreciatively. “Thank you so much for stopping by, Christian. Please do come again.”

“We’ll be looking forward to next time,” Shane added with a wink, clearly enjoying the whole thing.

Christian gave a slight bow. “Thank you, sir. Goodbye.”

Just as he reached the door, Kemmy appeared at the top of the stairs, arms folded tightly, her lips pursed.

“Shut the door behind you!” she barked.

The room went silent.

“That’s rude, Kemmy,” Harrison scolded, his voice calm but firm.

Kemmy’s shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

Christian chuckled and waved one final time before gently closing the door behind him.

Kemmy fetched a plate of steaming food and returned to her room, her stomach growling with sudden intensity. She sat cross-legged on the bed, shoving the first few bites into her mouth like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. Her appetite had been unpredictable lately—emotions and hunger intertwined in a way she couldn’t fully explain.

Just then, the door creaked open.

Shane leaned against the doorframe, a teasing smirk dancing on his face. “Hmm... I thought somebody wasn’t hungry?”

Kemmy rolled her eyes and kept eating, refusing to dignify the tease with a response. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her jaw tense, as though every bite was a distraction from thoughts she couldn’t push away.

Shane walked in casually and plopped down beside her on the bed. His playful energy dimmed just a little when he noticed the tension in her shoulders. “Hey,” he said, this time softer, with genuine curiosity. “What’s going on?”

Kemmy didn't look at him. She stared down at the plate like it held answers, chewing slowly. “Nothing,” she said, curtly.

He studied her for a moment. “Okay, I’m just gonna assume something happened between you and Christian. You were dating, he did something awful, and boom—now you two are enemies.”

Kemmy scoffed, nearly choking on her food. “What?! I can never date Christian! That is utterly impossible!” Her voice cracked with irritation—too quick, too sharp.

Shane chuckled, his eyebrows raised. “Spill the beans, sis. What really happened?”

With an exasperated sigh, Kemmy stood, carried her dish to the kitchen, and returned a moment later. Her arms were crossed when she leaned back against the doorframe, gaze flicking toward the floor as if she were trying to convince herself more than Shane.

“Ever since we met, he’s always finding something to tease me about. That’s why we’re not exactly friends,” she muttered.

Shane raised an eyebrow. “Right. But you two were holding hands in the rain today. And you were wearing his jacket. So... care to explain?”

Her expression froze.

She hesitated, glancing toward the window as if replaying the moment in her mind. Then, softly, “Actually... something happened.”

Shane leaned forward, like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

Kemmy swallowed and exhaled slowly. “He took my notebook. I couldn’t submit it to the teacher... so I got flogged.” Her voice cracked at the memory. “They told me to return it before the day ran out. But then, while I was on my way home... it started raining. I wasn’t even wearing a jacket. I hadn’t expected it to rain.”

Her eyes dimmed as she looked down at her hands. “I was shivering. I found a bench and just sat there, cold, defeated. And then... I felt warmth. I turned—and there he was, putting his jacket around me.”

Shane’s expression softened. “Awwn. Continue.”

“I wanted to tell him to stop... but I couldn’t. I was too cold. I didn’t even realize he was holding my hand until you said it.” She rubbed her palm absentmindedly, her tone quieter now. “It was warm, yes... but not warm enough to pull me out of the confusion I was in.”

Shane tilted his head playfully. “So... is that a lie, or should I just go ahead and believe it?”

Kemmy’s gaze snapped to his. “I’m dead serious, Shane!”

He grinned. “You’re telling me a guy put his jacket around you, held your hand, and you felt things—and you’re telling me you two are just ‘not friends’?”

She frowned deeply. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

Shane raised his hands in surrender but winked. “I already know the end of this story.”

---

Scene Switch – Christian’s House

Meanwhile, at Christian’s house, the living room sat in a quiet haze. A bag of chips lay unopened on the glass center table.

Ryan sat hunched over on the sofa, flipping through TV channels without watching any.

“Where did Christian go to?” he mumbled to himself.

The front door opened with a soft creak. Ronald stepped in, his briefcase dangling at his side. “Hey, son.”

Ryan barely lifted his head. “Hey, Dad. Have you seen Christian?”

“Nope.” Ronald dropped the briefcase beside the couch. “So... you’re aware you’re starting school on Monday, right?”

Ryan’s face shifted. His shoulders sagged visibly. “Dad... must it be that school? Can’t I go somewhere else?”

Ronald's tone turned firm. “Ryan, my decision is final. You’re going to HCS. No more abroad for now.”

Ryan groaned under his breath.

Just then, Christian entered, damp curls still clinging to his forehead from the rain earlier.

“Hey, bro!” he called cheerfully.

Ryan didn’t respond.

Christian’s smile faded a bit. “What’s up with you?”

“I’m going to your school on Monday,” Ryan said dully, like it was a prison sentence.

Christian’s face lit up. “Really? That’s great! At least I won’t be alone anymore!”

Ryan blinked at him. “But I don’t like that school.”

Christian stepped closer, slinging an arm loosely around his shoulder. “Come on, bro. Everything’s changed since you left. I promise you’ll like it now.”

Ryan looked up at him, skeptical. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Christian said, confident.

Ryan sighed. “Okay. I’ll give it a try.”

Christian grinned and held out his hand. “That’s my bro!”

They shook hands.

Ryan tilted his head. “By the way, where were you earlier?”

Christian paused only for a second. “Went to see a friend.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes, suspicion flashing in them. “A friend?”

Christian headed for the stairs. “Yeah, just a friend.”

Ryan followed behind, his curiosity burning like wildfire.

Who was this friend?

---