We'll Sing It Back
Three.
It was nearing three o'clock in the morning and no one was awake. The street lights illuminated the entire avenue but they may as well have been turned off because there wasn't anything to illuminate save for the odd cat scurrying across the road.
All down the road the residents of the houses and apartments were lying in their beds with some curled up in balls and some stretched out in a way that suggested that they were subconsciously trying to take up as much space as possible. Some people were sharing beds whilst some slept alone. Some people had the light on for fear of the dark while there were others who found solace in the pitch black of night time.
And when three o'clock came around, everyone was sleeping peacefully and soundly save for a young man and his female cousin.
"It's three in the morning," William complained, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled into his dimly lit kitchen. His cousin was sitting on the counter, looking around innocently and pretending she hadn't heard him. He sighed and crossed the room to her.
"Why are you even awake at this hour?" He asked, putting his hands on her knees. He eyed the kettle, which was boiling noisily, as it began to spout steam.
"Isn't it obvious," the girl snapped in reply, not looking at her cousin still. "I couldn't sleep. I can never sleep when I'm upset."
William didn't bother to say anything in return. He was exhausted. He didn't want to have to put up with this, especially not at such an early hour. He folded his arms over his chest and announced that he was going back to bed. He was beginning to regret being a nice enough person to let his cousin stay with him. She'd only been there for a few days and he was already missing more than enough hours of sleep.
But when he reached the doorway she called out to him in a voice much unlike her own, "William. Please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone."
It was one of those rare moments when Hanna Osment pulled away the curtain and exposed herself fully. She sounded as vulnerable as she felt. Her voice was reminiscent of that of a small child pleading for someone to rescue his or her kite from the tree.
Will, no matter how badly he wanted to catch up on his sleep, couldn't leave her alone in a state like that. What kind of relative would that make him? He was the closest thing she had left to immediate family, whom she could talk to civilly.
"Oh, okay," he sighed again and walked back over to her. She smiled a small smile and it was then that he realised that she was crying. His cousin, Hanna Osment, was crying. Her blue eyes were brimming with tears that slipped down her cheeks and nose and fell onto the kitchen floor.
"No, no, don't cry," he muttered, unsure of what to say. He wasn't extremely good at comforting women because their problems always seemed so much more complex than his own. Or at least, they made them sound more complex. "He wasn't good enough for you - neither of them deserve to know you."
"That's not true!" Hanna cried out, burying her face in her hands. "I'm a horrible person. I've never said a nice word to anyone in my entire life. I'm always pretending to be so sure of everything. I'm always acting like everything's so under control that I don't need anyone. I'm a horrible, horrible person. I deserved what I got."
"Now that's not true," Will ran a hand through his hair. He sounded a lot like his mother. "You didn't deserve that. And you have said nice things to people. When you were eight you told me that I didn't smell as bad as the year before."
"That wasn't a nice thing to say," Hanna complained, "That was a horrible thing to say and I wasn't even telling the truth!"
"Oh. Well... you still didn't deserve to be cheated on. I told you not to date him. Never date a guy called Jack unless cousin Will approves of him." This statement, however, didn't help the situation any and Hanna's sobs became even more pronounced.
"Every time I fall in love it all goes wrong! Why can't I just be... why can't someone just love me and not hurt me? Do you remember Lucas? He cheated on me too. Six times. With four different girls. The time I caught him he was with all four!"
If the situation had been any different William Beckett might've laughed but he didn't dare. Instead he pulled his cousin into a hug and said, "Don't rush love - it goes at its own pace."
"That's the wisest thing you've ever said to me," Hanna mumbled in between sniffles and sharp intakes of breath.
"My mom said that to me after I broke up with Sally," he laughed. "Now can I go back to sleep now? I've got to go to the studio tomorrow and I don't want to be late."
"Oh, can I come with you?" Wiping the tears from her eyes and pouring some hot water into a cup that contained a spoonful of coffee grains, Hanna turned to look at her cousin.
William stopped in his tracks and tried to come up with an excuse. A reason, any reason, why Hanna could not accompany him to the studio tomorrow. He just needed a reason... any reason...
"Please?"
No reason. "Eh, I don't see why not," he shrugged his shoulders and tried his best not to look as irritated and scared as he was. William Beckett had a life to maintain and his cousin was just the sort of person who was capable of taking over it or ripping it to shreds.
In other, more understandable, words, William Beckett was completely and utterly fucked over.
All down the road the residents of the houses and apartments were lying in their beds with some curled up in balls and some stretched out in a way that suggested that they were subconsciously trying to take up as much space as possible. Some people were sharing beds whilst some slept alone. Some people had the light on for fear of the dark while there were others who found solace in the pitch black of night time.
And when three o'clock came around, everyone was sleeping peacefully and soundly save for a young man and his female cousin.
"It's three in the morning," William complained, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled into his dimly lit kitchen. His cousin was sitting on the counter, looking around innocently and pretending she hadn't heard him. He sighed and crossed the room to her.
"Why are you even awake at this hour?" He asked, putting his hands on her knees. He eyed the kettle, which was boiling noisily, as it began to spout steam.
"Isn't it obvious," the girl snapped in reply, not looking at her cousin still. "I couldn't sleep. I can never sleep when I'm upset."
William didn't bother to say anything in return. He was exhausted. He didn't want to have to put up with this, especially not at such an early hour. He folded his arms over his chest and announced that he was going back to bed. He was beginning to regret being a nice enough person to let his cousin stay with him. She'd only been there for a few days and he was already missing more than enough hours of sleep.
But when he reached the doorway she called out to him in a voice much unlike her own, "William. Please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone."
It was one of those rare moments when Hanna Osment pulled away the curtain and exposed herself fully. She sounded as vulnerable as she felt. Her voice was reminiscent of that of a small child pleading for someone to rescue his or her kite from the tree.
Will, no matter how badly he wanted to catch up on his sleep, couldn't leave her alone in a state like that. What kind of relative would that make him? He was the closest thing she had left to immediate family, whom she could talk to civilly.
"Oh, okay," he sighed again and walked back over to her. She smiled a small smile and it was then that he realised that she was crying. His cousin, Hanna Osment, was crying. Her blue eyes were brimming with tears that slipped down her cheeks and nose and fell onto the kitchen floor.
"No, no, don't cry," he muttered, unsure of what to say. He wasn't extremely good at comforting women because their problems always seemed so much more complex than his own. Or at least, they made them sound more complex. "He wasn't good enough for you - neither of them deserve to know you."
"That's not true!" Hanna cried out, burying her face in her hands. "I'm a horrible person. I've never said a nice word to anyone in my entire life. I'm always pretending to be so sure of everything. I'm always acting like everything's so under control that I don't need anyone. I'm a horrible, horrible person. I deserved what I got."
"Now that's not true," Will ran a hand through his hair. He sounded a lot like his mother. "You didn't deserve that. And you have said nice things to people. When you were eight you told me that I didn't smell as bad as the year before."
"That wasn't a nice thing to say," Hanna complained, "That was a horrible thing to say and I wasn't even telling the truth!"
"Oh. Well... you still didn't deserve to be cheated on. I told you not to date him. Never date a guy called Jack unless cousin Will approves of him." This statement, however, didn't help the situation any and Hanna's sobs became even more pronounced.
"Every time I fall in love it all goes wrong! Why can't I just be... why can't someone just love me and not hurt me? Do you remember Lucas? He cheated on me too. Six times. With four different girls. The time I caught him he was with all four!"
If the situation had been any different William Beckett might've laughed but he didn't dare. Instead he pulled his cousin into a hug and said, "Don't rush love - it goes at its own pace."
"That's the wisest thing you've ever said to me," Hanna mumbled in between sniffles and sharp intakes of breath.
"My mom said that to me after I broke up with Sally," he laughed. "Now can I go back to sleep now? I've got to go to the studio tomorrow and I don't want to be late."
"Oh, can I come with you?" Wiping the tears from her eyes and pouring some hot water into a cup that contained a spoonful of coffee grains, Hanna turned to look at her cousin.
William stopped in his tracks and tried to come up with an excuse. A reason, any reason, why Hanna could not accompany him to the studio tomorrow. He just needed a reason... any reason...
"Please?"
No reason. "Eh, I don't see why not," he shrugged his shoulders and tried his best not to look as irritated and scared as he was. William Beckett had a life to maintain and his cousin was just the sort of person who was capable of taking over it or ripping it to shreds.
In other, more understandable, words, William Beckett was completely and utterly fucked over.