Oh my! I'm terribly sorry about missing two updates to Fratello? in a row. I'll get back on the ball this upcoming Friday! In the meantime, enjoy this little story. ¡Adios!
Feliciano Vargas laid on his bed, doing his homework. Every so often he glanced at his alarm clock. 10:34 p.m. 10:37 p.m. 10:43 p.m.
He sighed, closing his textbook. His older brother had been out for over three hours now. Where was he? He had said he went to run some errands, but errands shouldn't take almost the entire evening. The Italian started to worry as he sat up. Maybe he had gotten in a car accident.
"Don't be ridiculous," mumbled Feliciano. "Lovino is perfectly fine. Still...I should call him." He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and speed dialed Lovino. The tone went through once, twice...
"¡Hola!" Feliciano felt his heart sink when he heard the voice of Antonio Carrideo. "This is Antonio speaking, how may I help you?" The young Vargas brother could hear laughter in the background, mixed in with slurred voices asking for another round.
"Antonio? Where's my fratello?"
"Ah, Feli! ¿Cómo estás? ¿Bien?" And just like that, the Spaniard was chatting away in Spanish.
"Antonio, I just want Lovino. Where is he?"
"Right, right. Lovi!"
There was a muffled "What?" from somewhere in the background, followed by Antonio saying something in Spanish again. "Hold your damn horses, I'm coming, I'm coming." There was a static passing of the phone before Feliciano heard Lovino say "Who is this?"
"It's your brother," Feliciano answered, hot tears pricking at his eyes.
"Brother? Brother...brother...Ah! Feliciano!"
"Really?" Feliciano's voice cracked. "You're drunk, Lovino! For the fourth time this month! You have school tomorrow!"
"I do? What time is it?" Feliciano wiped at his eyes, trying to hold back every swear he knew.
"It is almost eleven at night. You left nearly three hours ago. You told me you had errands."
"And I do!"
"Drinking isn't a damn errand, you bastardo!" Feliciano stood up from the bed, pacing his room now. "It's another lie to me, your own brother!"
"Feli, calm down. It was just a small lie," Lovino said with a hiccup. "Hey, Arthur, pass me another!"
"That's your tenth shot of whiskey," said a voice.
"Does it look like I care?" The bar erupted into cheers and laughter, angering Feliciano even more. His own brother was drinking, and he was trying to lie to him, again. No, he wasn't having it.
"Have that cagna of a Spaniard let you stay at his place," he growled. "I don't want to see you until you're sober."
"I am sober, Feli."
"You are not sober!" screamed the younger Italian. That was the final straw. Lovino had tried to lie, as if it would actually work. "You are anything but sober! I've had it! I'm sick and tired of coming home from school and finding you drunk! I can't keep up with everything, you idiota! I'm just one teenager, one kid who doesn't have anyone except you, and I'm losing you!"
Feliciano paused, panting slightly as he leaned against the wall, trembling. His anger wasn't completely gone, but most of it had drained away to sorrow. He was only nineteen, his brother a year older, and yet he had to be the one babysitting. He was about to snap.
"Feliciano...I'm sorry...ti amo."
Ti amo. How many times had Lovino said that to Feliciano? It seemed so empty now, formed only by a drunken stupor, compared to when Lovino actually meant it when they were children. Ti amo? Ti amo? Ti amo?
"Stop saying it." Feliciano closed his eyes, tears falling.
"What?"
"Stop saying it! Stop saying it like you mean it! You're a liar and I hate you!" Lovino went silent on the other end, but Feliciano continued on. "That's all you say, is ti amo, ti amo. You say it so many times that I can't take your word for it! You say it only when you're drunk off your ass! Ti amo? Ti amo means nothing! It means nothing from you!" He ended the call, and with a cry of frustration, Feliciano chucked his phone at the wall.
It shattered, just like his heart, falling onto the floor. He soon joined the pieces, hugging his knees to his chest as he sobbed. The Italian fell asleep soon after, having drained all his energy.
"Feliciano! Feliciano, ¿dónde estás?" Feliciano woke up to footsteps running through his house. Shocked, he quickly scrambled up. What time was it? He glanced over to the alarm clock. 7:23 a.m.
"Oh no!" He was going to be late for school if he didn't leave the house soon! Feliciano threw his door open, running right into Antonio. With a shriek, the Italian jumped back. "Antonio?"
"Feliciano! ¡Gracias A Dios!" The Spaniard grabbed Feliciano's arm, tugging him out of the room. "There's no time to explain, we need to get to the hospital!"
"Why?" asked Feliciano as he was led out of his house and to Antonio's car.
"Lovino was in a car accident!"
Time seemed to blur by as Feliciano was pushed into the car. Antonio got in and sped off, explaining what happened, but Feliciano barely caught what he was saying. His mind was reeling back to what he had said last night.
They made it to the hospital twenty minutes later, and the two ran inside. Just as Antonio went to speak with the receptionist, people in white coats burst through a separate door, pushing a gurney. On the gurney was Lovino, bloody and looking beyond the definition of good.
"Lovi!" Feliciano ran over, ignoring the protests of the doctors. "Lovi, I'm so sorry!"
"Someone get this child away!" yelled a doctor. "Son, your friend here is in a bad shape. We don't want you to see him. He can speak, though, so there is hope."
"He's my brother! Please!" Antonio had to run over and pull him away. Feliciano struggled, trying to pull away. "Lovino! I'm sorry! Ti amo, Lovino, ti amo!"
Lovino's eyes shifted over to where Feliciano stood, though the younger brother couldn't tell if he actually saw him. "Ti amo...means nothing...Didn't you say that?" Feliciano froze, allowing the doctors enough time to wheel his brother through the emergency doors.
The funeral was a month later. Whatever hope those doctors had obviously wasn't enough. They had lost Lovino thirty minutes after he had been hooked up. The car crash was a rear collision, sending Lovino's car off the road. Glass had been embedded deep into his skin, tearing at internal organs and causing bleeding. He was lucky to have lasted long enough, the doctors had told Feliciano.
Now he stood next to the black coffin of his brother, his fingers lingering on its smooth surface. It was an open casket service, so Feliciano got to see Lovino's peaceful face. Lucky? This wasn't lucky. Not at all. He quietly walked away, standing in the corner of the church and watching as friends came by. A few headed his way to give their condolences, but others left him alone. They knew he needed time to grieve.
"I won't say I'm right," Feliciano whispered, his vision clouding over with tears. "But ti amo does mean nothing now. It won't ever be the same without hearing it from you, fratello. I'm...I'm so sorry."