I own nothing.
Brick stood on the sidewalk, his mouth agape in awe and confusion.
He looked over the address again and again, making sure that this was correct. He was standing on Fairborn Street in the third district—just outside the bad neighborhoods in Townsville, but still close enough to be part of the hood. It was an old, two-story house with the windows boarded up, the blue paint thinning along the corners, the grass was so tall it could reach his hips; all of it surrounded by a decent iron fence packed together with other houses of the same size in a row on the same street.
This ...was the house his old man had left him.
Brick Alexander Jojo had not planned on returning to Townsville for a long time. He had graduated college early, but had decided to stay around the campus to make a profit for a little longer. Stanford was crawling with privileged, social elites that would pay ridiculously just to get high off of his product. And they were too stupid enough to play right into his hands. Of course, college in general had been a big blur for him. Classes were almost too easy; Brick had majored in robotics engineering, since robots were badass, but he hardly got to play around the labs until after his freshman year. He was so bored his first year.
But he got popular with the students pretty quickly. Between the sorority parties, beer keggers, and bonfires Brick was amazed at himself he could still go to class hungover and pass his classes. Not to mention—the college girls. He had honestly believed that the stories of college girls being horny and sexually active were over exaggerated in his preteen years, but now that he had first had experience, he and his dick can confirm the truth.
It was fun the first semester, but after a while, he would think about home. He would think about Townsville, his friends, his brother and—
Brick punched himself on the arm for thinking about her.
She was on his mind the entire time he was at Stanford—she was supposed to be there with him, but because of him, she moved to Yale instead. Everything could have been different had he had not…said those things to her in high school. But that was the past now, its over. And he would never see her again.
That was his mantra, and he was sticking to it.
After college, Brick picked up a good steady job in an automobile business—he had take a couple of automobile classes, so he was pretty familiar with it. He would call and talk to his brothers who stuck around Townsville and staying out of trouble. Whenever he would come home for a visit, he would never stray far from his neighborhood until it was time to go back. He was a good son, checking up on his father every now and then. No girlfriend. Steady cash. Bills paid—mostly. Brick was doing well for himself.
That was until his father passed away from a heart-attack.
It took everyone by surprise.
By the time Boomer and Butch had finally moved out, the old man seemed perfectly fine. But a year later, he had a heart-attack, and died in his house. Butch found him about an hour later, and called his brothers. They were devastated at the loss of the only other man in the world who gave a shit about them. The boys did what they could to give their father a good burial service. A few guests came to give their condolences, relatives they had never heard from in years stopped by to grieve, but didn't bother to chip in for the funeral costs.
Three days after they put their father underground, the boys were given a will and testament. Of course, Mr. Jojo didn't have a lot of money to leave behind the boys—if anything it was debt—but he had did put some thing away for his sons. To Boomer, he left behind an engagement ring that belonged to their grandmother. To Butch, he left him the bar he had owned, and asked him to continue running the business. Or sell it, it was his choice. And to Brick, he left him a house.
To be honest, Brick would rather have the bar.
After walking up the stoop and unlocking the door, Brick stepped into a fucking dump. There was dust everywhere, broken furniture trash all over the floor, and graffiti all over the walls.
"What the fuck, old man? You expect me to live here?"
He kicked a beer bottle out of the way and explored the house more. There was a large space when he walked in—assuming it was for the living room, walking past it, he saw a lighter colored area with a stove and cabinets, the kitchen, minus the table and refrigerator. He noticed the rusted water heater sitting in the corner, and figured he could fix it up a bit. He saw a door and found out it was the downstairs bathroom—expect it was just a toilet. Not very sanitary, in his opinion. There were two sets of stairs, one in the living room and one in the kitchen, leading up to the second floor. The stairs in the kitchen were too dilapidated to walk on, so he tried the on in the living room. Slowly walking up the stairs, he was greeted with a hallway of five doors. All of the rooms were empty, aside from the trash, and one of them was a bathroom—complete with a bathtub. There was a door on the ceiling leading to the attic, but after pulling the cord, Brick jumped back just as the ladder collapsed to the floor in a broken mess.
"Fucking termites."
He coughed and swatted away the dust as he descended back to the first floor and out of the house for some fresh air. After catching his breath for a good five minutes, he dug into his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He sat on the concrete stoop for ten minutes more smoking in deep thought as always. The only thing that was occupying this mind was: "What the fuck, pops?"
Brick was twenty-three years old. What the hell was he going to do with a shitty dump like this?
He didn't have time to fix all of it. That was too much work and money he was not going to waste.
Brick sighed in his hands. At least it was quiet, aside from the police sirens in the distance and someone's dog barking nonstop. The sounds of Townsville.
Brick pulled his phone out of his pocket once he heard it ring, and answered it. "Hey."
"Hey" Boomer answered. "How's the house?"
"A piece of shit is what it is. I think it was one of dad's stupid jokes." He took a drag and exhaled.
"Dude, you can fix it up."
"Oh yeah, let me dip into my pot of gold I have buried in my ass to pay to clean it up."
Boomer sighed. "It was just a suggestion. Anyway, are you coming back to my place or are you leaving town again?"
Brick shook his head. "Nah. I'm staying here. Last job sort of busted on me."
"That's what you get for stealing cars for a living." Boomer scolded.
"Made damn good money, that's for sure." Brick couldn't go back. His boss told him to lay low for a while—which that meant he was done with work indefinitely. "Where are you going?"
"Ah, Butch called, saying he need some extra hands running the bar."
"Alright, I'll meet you there soon. I need to pay a ticket."
"Okay." Brick hung up, finished his cigarette and tossed it aside.
He locked the front door—didn't know why. This was place wasn't worth breaking into. After closing the gate, he hopped in his car and drove away praying to never see that house again.
"REBECCA! COME ON! IT'S TIME TO FOR SCHOOL!"
Blossom quickly brushed out the knots in her hair before tying it up in a ponytail with her red ribbon. She rushed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where the Professor had finished cooking breakfast.
The Professor smiled at his daughter. "Excited about your first day?"
"Too excited." Blossom huffed as she spread peanut butter and jelly on slices of bread and put them together. She cut the sandwich in half cutting the crusts off expertly. "I don't want to late in the slightest. REBECCA! COME AND GET YOUR BREAKFAST!"
The Professor set the table with a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and a glass of orange juice. "Sweetheart, calm down. You need to eat your breakfast. First day on the job requires a healthy, nutritious first meal." He said adding another plate of food on the table.
Blossom wrapped the sandwich in a plastic bag before putting in a brown paper sack along with some apple slices, cookies and a bottle of juice. "I don't have time to calm down." She rushed back to the bathroom fixing her make-up and straightened out her suit before rushing back to the kitchen for a quick sip of coffee. "This is my first actual job. No more part-time jobs. I can finally start saving away money to buy a place for me and Rebecca."
"Oh Blossom. You know I don't mind you and Rebecca staying here as much as you need." He reassured.
"I know, Professor, but it'll be better this way. We won't move far. I saw a couple of affordable apartments in the city, not too far from her school or from the city hall. Not to mention, the commute from the suburbs to the city can be quite exhausting." Blossom reasoned.
The Professor smiled nonetheless. "I mean it, honey. You two are always welcomed here anytime you like."
Blossom smiled at her father before walking down the hall. She opened the door to her right to a yellow and baby pink room that clearly belonged to a little girl. It was relatively clean compared to yesterday—few dolls and toys on the ground, no clothes outside of their intended places. A small bookshelf matching the pink childish décor, a small bed with a pink comforter and matching pillows. Blossom sighed.
"Rebecca, I don't have time for hide-n-seek. Come out, so we can go." Blossom checked underneath the covers and underneath the bed. With only on option left, Blossom opened the closet door only for the door the close itself shut.
"I don't wanna go to school!"
"Rebecca, you have to go to school. It is not an option."
"I don't like it there! I wanna stay here with grandpa!"
Blossom sighed in her hands. "Rebecca, I don't understand. You were so excited about school yesterday. What changed sweetheart?"
She heard a mumble from the other side of the door.
"Excuse me?"
"...they make fun of me …and call me names…"
"Is it because of your eyes again?" Blossom suspected, and was quickly confirmed with a small: "yes". Blossom opened the closet door and wasn't met with any protests. A small girl sat hunched into a little ball with her head on her knees. Her orange hair was pulled back with a red headband, and she wore a blue overall dress, with pink and white polka dot shirt underneath. Blossom picked her up and out of the closet and sat her daughter down on the bed.
"Becca." Blossom cooed wiping the potential tears on her face. "There is nothing wrong with your eyes. They're beautiful."
"But everyone says I'm a freak! There's no one in the world who has red eyes like me!"
"Rebecca. Look at me." Rebecca raised her head to show the pair candy apple red eyes. "There is nothing wrong with your eyes, and there's nothing wrong with you. Look at me, I have pink eyes, and do you see me crying in my closet?"
Becca shook her head. "No…"
"I know its hard to back, but you have to face your bullies head on. And you can't cry in front of them okay? You have to be brave. Think you can be brave for mommy?"
Becca reluctantly nodded her head. "Yeah…"
Blossom gave her daughter a small smile and hugged her. "Come on. Grandpa made some breakfast." She took her by the hand and the two walked to the kitchen.
"Good morning Rebecca!" The Professor smiled picking his granddaughter up for a kiss on the cheek. Rebecca giggled loudly.
"Grandpa!"
"Hurry up and eat you two, before your breakfast gets cold." The Professor scolded putting Becca in a chair in front of her food. Blossom checked her watch and became alarmed at the time.
"Oh no! We got to go!" Blossom ran and swiftly grabbed Becca's sacked lunch, her work bag, and keys before stuffing a piece of bacon in her mouth. "Come on, sweetheart! You can eat your breakfast in the car!"
Becca eat two spoons worth of eggs before grabbing the bacon off her plate.
"Don't forget your bookbag, pumpkin!" The Professor held a small pink backpack covered in stickers and paint. Becca slipped on her bag and gave him a hug.
"Bye grandpa!" Blossom, grabbing her jacket, gave the Professor a kiss on the cheek.
"I'll see you tonight!" She shouted running out of the door and into the driveway. The Professor waved at his family as he watched his granddaughter climb in the backseat and strapped herself with the seatbelt while her mother frantically placed her things in the car and closed the door.
He had overheard their conversation, and gave a disappointed sigh.
The news had come to a shock for everyone. A week after graduation, Blossom had collapsed in their living room. The doctor said that she had experience exhaustion from her pregnancy. It was a bombshell to find out she was pregnant; it was heartbreaking to find out that she was five months along already. There have been many cases of women never knowing that they are pregnant until the baby is born. Its scary, but it happens.
And that's what happened to Blossom Utonium.
She was so devastated with the news, she couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. All she did was cry.
She wouldn't tell them who the father was. She wouldn't tell them who the man was who altered the course of her life drastically.
Because of the baby, Blossom had to relinquish her scholarship to Yale, and put off going to college for a year after the baby was born. She was so distraught for months—no amount of cheering up from her sisters could make her feel better. Bubbles had believed it was Dexter, and the Professor's blood boiled at the idea of his former protégé abandoning his daughter in a time like this.
On September 27th, Rebecca Cherise Utonium was born with as much love and praise as any family would for the coming a new baby. Despite, Blossom's destress throughout the pregnancy, the moment she held her daughter in her arms, the Professor could see all of the adoration and attention Blossom gave to the small baby. He knew that Blossom would do anything she could for her child, just as he had done for his girls.
Rebecca opened her eyes that day, and frightened the entire staff in the hospital. Bright red eyes on a baby was hardly normal—despite Blossom having blushed pink eyes. But the reaction on the family was completely different.
Bubbles gasped loudly.
Buttercup punched the wall and broke her hand.
The Professor knew where those red eyes had come from, and prayed that he stayed as far away from his family as humanly possible, or else he will surely be sorry.
But despite their feelings toward him, Rebecca was loved by her aunts and her grandfather dearly. Blossom gave up her future to be a chemist, like her father, and pursued a career in government with her degree in political science from Townsville University. She would have graduated early, but between the part-time jobs, internships, and being a full-time mother 24/7, Blossom was just happy to even graduate on time.
There were times he heard Blossom crying in the middle of the night, due to the stress of it all. She never regretted ever having Rebecca, but, he would hear her angrily regretting several decisions in her life—most of them involved…Rebecca's father. But Blossom was strong—strong enough to pull herself up and be the best supportive single mother she could be. She didn't need anyone else to take care of her baby; she would be just fine by herself.
Of course, Blossom would get certain looks. Blossom Utonium, formerly an esteemed and valued member of the community as young woman, is now a single, young mother with a child who has notorious red eyes. Word spreads nastily from mouth to mouth; trophy wives with nothing else better to do than to condemn Blossom for her life choice.
But Blossom held her head up high, and threatened anyone who would speak terrible words about her daughter.
And the Professor couldn't be anymore prouder.
Brick didn't arrive in the heart of the city until late afternoon. A couple of people heard he was in town, and called for him to stop by. The Gangrene Gang and Sedusa were fine to say "Hi", but when the Amoeba Boys started begging for favors to be done, Brick knew it was time to move on with the day.
And that started with a bullshit parking ticket. The meter was already busted! Not his fault! Which was why he was heading straight for the top, so they could get a piece of his fucking mind.
Brick parked at Townsville City Hall parking lot, and made his away up the steps. He passed several men and women in their expensive business suits giving him second looks as he walked by. Brick rolled his eyes, and debated whether or not to give them something to look at. Red eyes, tattoos, piercing, backwards cap, long hair—nothing for them too be afraid of, for now. That was why Brick couldn't imagine having a career in the political office; too many big heads with better priorities than the positions they were elected to serve. They would rather stuff their own pockets with the people's money than to actual give a damn.
Once he reached the top, a woman with a tight pencil neck skirt walked by him, and of course, Brick took a minute to admire. Not bad. But once he turned around, he bumped into someone else—someone who clearly wasn't paying attention.
"Hey watch where you're—"
Brick stopped.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't blink.
He stood his ground like a petrified statue at the rosy eyes had adored of Blossom Margret Utonium. And judging from her widened stare, she was just as surprised as he was. There were no words spoken between each other, but the haunting silence of the past engulfing them alive. They remembered every moment they spent together; the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Fevered kisses of desperation, skin nipped and sucked on, fingers clawing away clothing for the feel of skin, mouths searching in areas forbidden, the agonizing pleasure of penetration, the pounding of two, heated bodies becoming one, the sounds of screams, skin slapping, breaths panting and that unforgettable smell of pure, lustful sex with no strings attached.
That was what they wanted.
That was what they agreed on.
So why did wanted more?
It caused more harm than good.
"I should have never involved myself with you." They both thought.
But here they were. Standing a foot away from each other, not bothering to greet each—let alone move.
Brick wanted to say something, but his mouth had run dry at the sight the of her. She looked…good. Blossom was still the same smoking hot babe as she was in high school, but he could tell that her hips and her breasts were larger than he had remembered—which was really fucking great. Her hair was as silky smooth as he remembered, her skin flawless as ever, and her eyes—oh God—her eyes alone would drive Brick to slam her against the wall and have them relive all of those nights he would sneak out to her house and—
"Blossom! There you are! I thought you had run of without me! We're going out to Melgoni's for lunch, and I am paying for it, so I don't want to hear your—OH! B-BRICK JOJO?!"
Brick didn't need to look up since he recognized that voice of Robin Snyder—the Utonium's neighbor and best friend. He didn't bother to greet her or acknowledge her, because he was still focused on Blossom and Blossom only. Brick wanted to say something, but what could he say?
That he was sorry for all of those things he said to her?
That he was lying so she could have a better life?
That he actually craved for her like the air he breathe, and hungered for the taste of her every night he slept.
That he tried to drown himself away from her with pleasures of other women, who were nothing compared to her.
That he had lived five years with hole in his chest he tried to fill with any substance he could get his hands on, but nothing worked.
Was that what he wanted say?
"Does…he know about Rebecca?"
…Rebecca?
"Who's Rebecca?"
From Robin's question sparked the energy Brick needed to finally talk to Blossom, however, this honest and harmless question made Blossom's eyes turn dark and before Brick could blink, her fist was slammed into his mouth.
The punch caught Brick off guard that he nearly tumbled down the flight of stairs below him. Instead, he just fell on his ass with blood coming out of his mouth.
"DON'T YOU EVER MENTION HER NAME AGAIN! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! YOU DON'T DESERVE TO SPEAK OF HER!" Brick looked up at the most terrifying sight. Blossom Utonium red in the face, fists clenched, nostrils flaring, teeth bearing. Her eyes were like that of a lioness, vicious and murderous.
Brick was honestly scared if not confused as Blossom stomped away leaving him on the ground with a bloody mouth. His eyes shifted to Robin, who was equally just as scared minus the confusion.
"Did…Did I deserve that…?"
Robin nodded her head. "Yeah. You did."
"Who the hell is Rebecca?!"
Robin bit her lip in contemplation looking in the direction that Blossom stormed off too. Brick didn't give her time to thing as he stood up and grabbed her by the arm.
"Blossom just fucking decked me over some chick named Rebecca. Now, you better give me some answers, or else I'll—"
"Rebecca is her daughter, okay?!"
Brick released her arm. "…what…?"
"Yeah…You knocked her up. Congratulations."
This may or may not be a squeal to "A Love Like War". ...okay it is. If you want me to continue it, leave a review and tell me what you think!
BunnyKoi Says: "There is beast in my heart and he won't let you leave alive."