Only Liars, But We're The Best

As I walked down the steps to the dining hall, my stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. It had been two years since I last saw Pete and the guys. Ever since he was thrown out of the house, I kept minimal contact with him. My schools' assignments and working part-time as a barista kept me busy.

When I reached the dining table, Joe, Patrick and Andy were already there. Pete was nowhere to be seen.

"You can sit beside me if you want," Patrick made a notion to the empty chair beside him.

I was about to take a seat when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Oh god, he's here.

I turned around and saw my step-brother stopping at the mouth of the dining hall. He looked the same as back then, except his hair was slightly longer now and his face appeared to be gaunt. There were massive bags underneath his eyes, or it could probably be the effect of years of unwashed kohl. And I wasn't sure whether my eyes were playing tricks or it was only because of the dim lighting, but I could have sworn I saw a glow in his eyes.

"Mai?" Pete approached tentatively.

I couldn't hold back the bottled-up emotions, which I had been struggling to keep and rushed towards him, engulfing him in a hug. "I've missed you so much," I sobbed. "You're my only family I've left now Peter Lewis."

I'm the only person who could call him that. And it was a sign of affection, not sarcasm.

"Hush... I'm here for you now, right? And Patrick and Joe, and Andy as well. We're all family. You're not alone, Mai," he gently stroked my hair and led me to my seat beside Patrick. "It's time to eat, alright?"

I sniffled and kept my eyes downcast. I never cried in front of people before. Heck, I stopped crying after my biological mother died. So what caused that outburst? Was it because of the pent-up feelings for Pete? Or was it because I walked into my house to find my dad and step-mom brutally murdered?

"Okay! Let's tuck in! I'm famished!" Joe cleared the awkward silence.

"You guys go ahead. I need to make my medicine. Won't take long." Pete walked over to the blender and started throwing in the leftover food I saw earlier.

I stared at what he was doing. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Is that what porphyria patients eat?"

I regretted what I had just said, the minute the words came out of my mouth. Pete stopped the blender abruptly while Joe choked on his chicken. Patrick cleared his throat to say something, but Andy cuts in first.

"Yeah, Pete has to make this special concoction which the doctors advise to be taken twice daily. It's something like a health food. He still eats proper food, you know," he laughed. As if on cue, everyone else started laughing, except me. Their laughter sounded forced in my ears.

Pete was diagnosed with porphyria around the time he left our home. It came as a complete shock to all of us, since the illness was usually hereditary. As far as Dale knew, nobody in hers nor Mr Wentz's family had porphyria. And among millions of people, Pete had to be the exception.

Before he had the disease, his band was doing pretty well for themselves. They even had a group of die-hard fans after their EP was released. After he was diagnosed with porphyria, the band decided to stop whatever they were doing and split. What they did not tell the public was that all four of them were still together, just not producing records. I was devastated for the guys as they had to give up the one thing they loved doing. Nonetheless, they held up just fine and went about with their lives.

"Umm, okay then. Sorry for being insensitive. I shouldn't have said that. After recent events... My mind... Not functioning..." I trailed off. My stomach suddenly felt very full even though I'd barely touched my food.

"Hey, you wanna take a rest first? I'll bring your food upstairs. You can eat it there," Patrick asked gently.

"It's alright Trick, I'm gonna bunk in. I'm not feeling too good suddenly. Sorry guys," I excused myself from the dining table, feeling four pairs of eyes on me.

As I made my way to the second flight of stairs, I heard Joe said, "That did not go well."



The girl found the house to be extremely quiet. They could not be asleep at this time? It was only half past nine. She knew her father tends to leave the lights on in the hallway until she came back home. So why were there no lights on? Why was the house in total darkness?

She walked up the front porch, her sneakers squeaking; the only sound heard on that quiet night. She had left the car at the curb, instead of parking it in the garage as always. Something was amiss tonight and she thought it would be easier to make a run for her car if she left it outside.

She had a queasy feeling in her stomach when she opened the front door. Funny, it was still locked from the inside. She expected the door to be unlocked actually. Duh, of course it's locked. You don't leave houses unlocked for burglars to have a free-for-all, she mentally chided herself.

As she fumbled with the keys to lock back the door, her other free hand roamed the switch box to switch on the lights. Why did her father leave the house in complete darkness? It wasn't like him.

It could be because of the argument they had earlier in the day. Her father behaved like a kid sometimes. Since she disappoint him, he decided to take 'revenge' by switching off the lights, so that she would trip herself or did something stupid, like accidentally knocking her toes on the coffee table. She giggled at that thought. She, on the other hand, had completely forgotten about the issue.

In the midst of bumbling around in the darkness, a strong metallic scent hit her. She froze. She knew what that smell was. Her fingers finally found the light switch and switched it on.

And then she turned around to face the living room.

Instead of seeing the clean, white-washed walls and the cozy sofa, she saw a carnage that was once her father and step-mother.

She emitted a high-pitched scream even she herself didn't know was capable of.



I felt strong hands shaking me. Voices blurred around me. And that freaking scream! Somebody stop it, please!

"Mai! Wake up! It's just a dream! Wake up! Come on!" Pete was literally carrying me out of the bed.

I snapped my eyes open and the screaming immediately stopped. I'm the one who did that?

"Oh my God, Mai. Are you alright?" Pete returned me back to my bed. "It looked like you were having a seizure or something!"

I took in my surroundings and saw all four guys huddled around my bed. Each had a look of either worried or concern etched on his face.

"I-I dreamt..."

"Get her some water," Pete ordered.

A set of footsteps ran off and I heard a pounding on the staircase. A few minutes later, Andy came barreling in with a glass of water.

I choked my thanks to him and finished off the water in three big gulps. Patrick volunteered to take back the glass.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake everyone up," I apologized, pushing away my damp bangs out of my eyes.

"You don't have to apologize. You've been doing that the whole night," Pete sat down beside me on the bed. "Are you fine now? If you don't mind me asking, what were you dreaming of? But if you don't wanna talk about it, that's fine," he added quickly.

"No, no I'm okay. I kept having nightmares about that night when I found dad and..."

Pete suddenly hugged me even before I could finish my sentence. Patrick, Joe and Andy took that as a sign to leave, so they shuffled quietly back to their bedrooms.

I snuggled closer to Pete, basking in his smell. Very soon, I was fast asleep. The last thing on my mind before I dozed off was, why was Pete so cold?