Hey Guys!

So this story came to me randomly and I decided to just write it. I wrote this whole chapter in pretty much one sitting, it just flowed out of me real easily aha.

I'm not 100% sure if im going to keep with this story, it all depends on the response it gets. Don't get me wrong I WILL keep writing this story because I like it's idea, but I will write it for myself and not publish it anywhere if no-one reads it/likes it.

So be sure to review and let me know if you like the idea of this and I will carry on, even though I'm not sure if every chapter is going to be this length. I could probably get this length out of me each time but it might take me longer than if I was writing 500 - 1000 words a chapter. (Says the person who took a whole year to upload)

Also, it's set in Britain because I'm english, therefore I wanted to set it in England, even though I've only been to London once but shhhhhh

I'll stop waffling now and actually let you get on with reading the story..

Let me introduce to you; My Brothers Best Man; Chapter One - Back Home

Chey ❤️xxx

Chapter 1 - Back Home

"That's £7.50." The taxi driver all but barks at me. I hand over the money and exit the taxi not uttering a word, as I stare up at my childhood house. I could never call this place my home because it never was. It was just the place I lived for 18 years, which is why after 3 years of not seeing this house (3 years too soon if you ask me). I'm stood dumbfounded, not sure what to do.

You might be wondering why I'm stood in front of the house I swore I'd never see again, and trust me, so am I but when I received the wedding invitation from my older brother of two years and his life long girlfriend Camille, I couldn't not come.

Why I even received an invitation is beyond me, Jon and I were never close. We didn't hate each other or anything, we are just complete polar opposites. Jon was always popular, a million friends, too if all his classes, threw the best parties, Head Boy, you name it where as I was more the loner type. I had friends, but I preferred the company of my sketchbook over people, other than my best friend Simon. I got average grades, mostly B's and A's but nothing compared to my brothers A*'s.

All throughout my high school life, all I ever heard was "Clarissa, why can't you be more like Jonathan?", "Clarissa, maybe you should take a page out of Jon's book", "Clarissa, you're a Morgenstern, try and act like it, like your brother". After a while of hearing the same shit, I began ignoring it. Jon and I didn't even look alike, unless you knew us, you'd never even know we were related .

Jon looks a lot like our father, 6 ft 1, pure white blond hair, broad shoulders, powerful jawline. Whereas I 5 ft 3, long ginger curly hair, freckles and soft features; the only thing we both inherited were our mothers green eyes.

I take a deep breath and knock on the door of my parents house, I hear movement within the house, someone walking towards the door. I hear the lock and the door opens and in the threshold stands my mother. Jocelyn Garroway is a petite but stunning woman. Standing at 5 ft 6, slim figure, narrow hips, average chest, high cheekbones, her red hair, quite a few shades darker than my own was pulled up at the back of her head secured with a pencil and of course, her green eyes that match my own, slightly hidden behind large, dark eyelashes.

She was dressed in what came to me as her artist clothing consisting of an old T-shirt and denim overalls, both covered in 30 years worth of paint. I noticed on her right hand which was currently holding open the door had green paint along the back of it. "Oh Clarissa, it's only you." She said turning away, leaving the door open as she left.

"Hello to you to mother." I muttered under my breath, grabbing my suitcase, I entered the house and locked the door behind me. The house hasn't changed at all I the last three years. The same modern furniture with the odd 'nicknacks' that Luke had collected over the years. My mother's painting were all around the house, she was definitely the painter of the family.

I could paint, one of my final pieces for my degree was a painting of Blackpool coast, with the Ferris wheel on Central Pier at the right and a sunset covering the sky. I spent nearly a month on that painting, it was one of my most proud pieces and I scored high marks for it, but I much preferred drawing and sketching.

Photos littered the wall and surfaces of the house, mostly of Jon, Jon as a baby, Jon as a child, Jon as a teen, Jon and Camille on their prom night. There was also two wedding photos, one of my mum and dad and another of my mum and Luke, my stepdad of thirteen years. Luke was my mother's best friend for most of her life and my godfather when I was born. When Valentine Morgenstern died as a result of a car accident when I was five, mum and Luke became closer and eventually fell in love and got married when I was eight and the rest is history.

There was a few photos of me to, but only in 'Family' photos, From trips and whatnot but none of just me on my own. The thought didn't discomfort me as much as it used to. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Deciding my mother had probably retreated to her art studio, I grabbed my suitcase and went up to my old room. My room hadn't changed either, white walls covered in old sketches, band and Anime posters. A few belongings that I didn't take to university with me were left, a layer of dust coated them. I sat on my bare bed and just stared at the room, thinking how I spent 80 percent of my life in here, keeping to myself while my family did whatever they did.

I wasn't neglected or abused, I was never called names. I just was left alone most of the time as they focused on Jon more. My phone beeped, jerking me out of my thoughts, signifying I had received a text. I unlocked my phone to see it was from Simon. It was a screenshot off Snapchat's map feature, my little bitemoji showing I was at my parents.

'Why does Snapchat seem to believe your in London?' I smiled a Simons text.

'Because I am, you fool'. I replied.

'WHY WAS I NOT AWARE OF THIS BIT OF INFORMATION CLARISSA'

'?'

I was laughing as Simon bombarded my phone telling me I had broken the 'friendcode'. 'He was such a dork,' I thought to myself as the final message came through.

'Taki's?' It said. I smiled Taki's was a little diner a couple of streets away from both our houses.

Picking up my shoulder back. I texted back 'See you in 10 Si.' As I was leaving the house putting my earphones in and played some Fall Out Boy. Just before I put my phone in my back pocket I saw Simons reply.

'It's a date Clary'.

I walked into Taki's, the bell above the door chiming to announce my arrival. Taki's was a little 50's diner, fit with red seats in the booths and they did the best milkshakes, coffee and pancakes. The diner had been in the same family since the 50's and in the possession of the current owner Dorothea for the last 30 years.

Dorothea is an African -American women, in the larger side and around 50 years old although, no-one knows her real age. Her grey hair always tucking under elaborate turbans and headscarves, resulting her in being called 'Madame Dorothea'. She had always been the loving grandmother type to Simon and I, giving us hugs, wanting to know our lives and always scolding us for not eating properly.

I walked up to counter, disappointed I couldn't see Dorothea anywhere, when the blonde-haired who was currently filling her nails at the till looked up and caught my eye. I looked into the bright blue eyes of the girl who tormented me through high school - who dropped out in Year 11 at 15 after falling pregnant - Kaelie Whitehall. Her eyes lit up in recognition but she didn't say a word out of line as I ordered a large black coffee for myself and a large mocha for Simon. I received the drinks, sat at a window booth, took out my sketchbook and waiting for my best friend.

"That's really good." I was so engrossed in trying to get the shading right on the drawing of a tiger I was currently doing that I hadn't noticed anyone enter the diner until they were right behind me. I jerked in surprise and spun around to see Simon grinning at me. Simon had a fairly geeky look about him, 5 ft 11, skinny, all arms and legs. Brown shabby hair that was currently falling into his big brown eyes, eyes that were hidden away behind his large 'hipster' glasses.

He was currently stood with his hands in his pockets of his grey skinny jeans with a black t-short which said 'NAME YOUR WEAPON' with a pair of dice underneath. I stood up and threw my arms around Simon's neck, he chucked into my hair but wrapped his arms around my waist anyway. I only saw Simon three weeks ago when he came up to Blackpool for a week but never-less, I still missed him.

We finally detached ourselves from one another and took at seat opposite each other. Simon drank a large mouthful of his mocha, then stared at me. "Explain" he said. "Why are you in London? And why didn't I know about it until you got here?" He asked, lifting his drink up again. "Well you didn't know because I didn't know until this morning when I packed a suitcase and got on a train. I explained. "As to why I'm here. Jon's getting married, I received an invitation last month but didn't know I was actually going to come until this morning." "Oh yeah, I know about Jon's wedding, I'm going too." "WHAT? Why? You guys weren't close?" I asked unable to keep the surprise out of my voice. Simon laughed. "Oh no, we're not but you know Izzy? My girlfriend?" I did know Izzy, not personally as I had never met her but Simon talked about her all the time: I'm glad he was happy. "Anyway, her and her brother, Alec, are friends with Jon and best friends with Jace, Jon's best man. Therefore Izzy got invited and I'm her plus one." "Well... at least you can keep me company." I smiled at him.

Simon and I chatted for a few hours about everything and nothing, all at the same time. The only thing I miss about London is seeing my best friend. Sure, we texted everyday and called/video-chatted at least once a week but it wasn't the same. When Simon finally had to leave due to having dinner at Isabelle mums house, we gave each other a final hug and promised to see each other the next day. I watched Simon leave; hands in his pockets and his head down before collecting my belongings and set off to leave myself.

Just as I was pulling the door open to leave Taki's I heard Kaelie mutter under her breath; "Once a loser - always a loser." I let the door slam on my way out.

The walk back to my parents house was a pleasant one, just walking the streets of London while the summer dusk surrounded me with colours of orange, yellow, pink and blue. I had always enjoyed the sunset; it was one of my favourite parts of the day.

As I nearer the house, I noticed Luke's blue truck pulling into the driveway. I had always like Luke, he tried to make me a little bit more involved in things, even if it never worked. "Hey Clarissa, is didn't know you were coming back home." He says, pulling me into a hug. Luke was a rugged-looking man; dark shaggy hair, laced with grey streaks, curling passed his ears. He had a 5 o'clock shadow that he hasn't shaved yet and crooked glasses unbalanced in the bridge of his nose.

Luke always dressed the same; worn out jeans, with holes in the knees - he refused to buy any new ones claiming his were 'still perfectly functional at being jeans'. Paired with a t-shirt and a plaid shirt always thrown over it; today was a blue and white one. He owns a bookshop just off Oxford Street. I worked in their throughout most of high school, he's the reason I'm such an avid reader.

"Yeah, I got in a few hours ago." I explain. "I decided to come to Jon's wedding and I've just come back from Taki's with Simon." I say. "Somethings never change, aye kiddo?" Luke chuckles, whole unlocked the door and letting me into the house. I shake my head in response as I enter, suppressing my smile.

The rest of the night goes smoothly and uneventful. Just a quiet dinner with my mum and Luke. My mother talking none stop about the wedding, how everything was coming along, how much they still had to do. Luke asked me a couple of times how I was dealing with living on my own, how Uni was going but my answered were overshadowed by my mother's overbearing chatter about the wedding. I didn't let it bother me and just listened to her plans for the wedding and before I know it, I'm laid in bed. The overwhelming feeling from travelling all day finally takes its toll and I fall into a dreamless sleep.