Only Liars, But We're The Best

Standing on the pavement with dried leaves scrunched beneath my sneakers, I looked at the building right in front of me. I would not call it a house as it looked more of an abandoned stash house. The place was run-down with long tumble weeds growing everywhere. Some of the windows were broken and some were caked with grime and dust. To make matters worse, it was situated at the end of the neighborhood. A perfect place for a serial killer to inhabit. I shuddered at the thought of it.

I looked down at the scrap of paper to confirm I got the correct place when I heard a chirpy voice greeted me at the doorway.

"Maiya! You're here!"

Startled, I dropped the paper and looked up. Joe Trohman stood at the doorway with a big smile on his face.



A month earlier:

"Seriously dad, you don't have to throw me a grand birthday bash. I'm content with a small gathering of my closest friends and family," I said.

"Girls your age would want the most awesome party ever once they hit twenty-one and here you are, asking for the most unbelievable request of all," my dad replied, feigning surprise.

I'll be turning twenty-one in a couple of days time and my dad and step-mom have agreed to let me throw a party. They even let me choose the place and time.

"Dad, you know how I'm like," I said, rolling my eyes.

People would stereotype me as the nerdy one. A loser. But my best friend, Ryan, and I were more of a wallflower with no exact clique. Both of us tend to drift with the crowd without people noticing us. We were in school just for the sake of getting a qualification so as to "secure our future", like what my dad said. Other than that, Ryan and I would spend time playing video games and being cooped at home, strumming away on our guitars.

"On second thought, I'll probably have a mini party with Pete's band playing. I'd like them to play on my twenty-first. It's been years since I met him anyway. We'll have it at Petes' place so that you and Dale don't have to fork out money," I interrupted before my dad had the chance to reply.

I looked at my father and prepared myself for the argument which would inevitably surface soon.

My dad remarried Petes' mom when I was eight and we had been living together since then, until Pete was thrown out of the house two years ago. Apparently, dad wasn't fond of his stepson to live off his and Dales' income. He did not believe in freeloaders, eventhough Pete was part of the family. My step-brother dropped out of college to pursue his musical interest which dad put it as a "waste of time and didn't produce anything".

Pete on the other hand, had different views on why he decided to take the risk. Amazingly, both of us got along well, despite the five year age gap. He confided that he couldn't see himself in a suit and tie.

He was a soccer player back when he was in high school. Pete was pretty good, and he considered in being a professional soccer player, but I'd guess his passion for music was stronger. He was a bit of a rebel during his teenage years. My dad and Dale could not handle him, so he was sent to boot camp for a few months. Nonetheless, our relationship as step-siblings wasn't affected by his 'rebellion' against my dad.

I remembered when I met Pete for the very first time. I was six years old; my dad had told me that he was going on with his life and concluded that I needed a mother's love. So he took me to a restaurant to meet Dale. What I didn't know was that Dale was a widow with a son. She brought Pete to the restaurant as well and the four of us had dinner together. It was awkward as Pete kept giving my dad killer glares all the time while we were there, but smiled and even tried making small conversation with me. Me, on the other hand, did not know how to react so I kept having my eyes downcast on the table and mumbling responses. I did not know why he didn't mind having a step-sister. It was like, he had taken a liking to me ever since our first encounter at the restaurant.

My dad went on more dates with Dale, going back and forth Las Vegas and Chicago. My dad and I were from Nevada and Dale was from Illinois. Two years later, he married her and my dad and I moved in with them.

"Why are you so keen in having Pete back into your life? Both of you are too close to my liking. You do know what happened right? He's a disgrace!" my dad yelled at me. "Whatever happened to his band? He got sick, they split up and I doubt he's working. Your step-mother still has to support him!"

"If you didn't throw him out of the house, this wouldn't have happened," I cried. "I don't even know why Dale is still with you after how you treated her son! I love her just like my own mother. And Pete is the best, older brother that I've never had. But you had to separate our happy family. All because your step-son is a rebel. Who cares he's not working dad? Least he's not robbing or kidnapping. He's making music in the basement! So that he can release albums to make money!"

At that very moment, Dale walked into the kitchen with bags of groceries in her hands. In the midst of our yelling, we did not hear her coming back. She put down her groceries and stared at the both of us.

"Pete says hi, Maiya. He misses you," she said quietly.

I ran past her, up to my bedroom and threw myself on the bed. The tears started flowing freely and I could not stop the hysterical sobs emitting from myself. Just a few more weeks of college and I'm getting the hell out of here. It's not like I hated my dad. It was just times like this, that he was being a jerk.

He approved of me and Pete being able to adapt the changes, but he became paranoid when Pete turned twenty-two and I was seventeen. We were practically inseparable and I spent almost every waking hour in the basement with Pete and his band mates. If I was not at school, I'd either be hanging out with him or Ryan. I was not fond of Petes' screamo band, but his pop punk ensemble which made me hang out with the guys, goofing around and learning how to play the guitar. Pete always had a way with words, so I was not surprised that he wrote all of the lyrics.

Dad was paranoid because he knew I was harboring a crush on him. How he knew, was a question I could not really answer. I could have sworn the old man had the ability to read my body language or something. Technically, I was having a minor crush on Pete. What's there not to like? He was charming, cute and have a killer bod to drool for. My crush for him started after he chopped off his ridiculous dreadlocks and kept his hair short. It's insane, but I do know my boundaries and wouldn't do such an unspeakable act. Furthermore, Pete would always and forever treat me as his little sister. Nothing more.

I dragged myself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. I caught my reflection in the mirror and gasped. Great. I looked like shit. My eyes were swollen like I was being punched, and my mascara was running down my cheeks. My nose was red like Rudolph and my normally straight brown hair was jutting out at random places. Time to take a bath Mai. Ryan would get mad if I kept him waiting too long.



Before I could even open my mouth to reply anything, Joe ran over to me and engulfed me in a big, bear hug. We're the same age but because of his height, it made me feel like a small child in the arms of her parent.

"Umm, you can let go of me now," I said, trying to push him away lightly. "C-C-Can't b-breathe!"

"Oh! Sorry! Sorry!" Joe finally let go and held me at an arms' length to take a look at me. "It's just good to see you again, Mai. In fact, all the guys can't wait for your arrival."

I smiled. Joe carried what was left of my possessions in two luggage and I tagged behind him, a chaotic mess in my head.