The room was tinted violet with sunlight that poured through the purple curtains. Some light seeped into Matthias' eyes and they fluttered open and peered around. The bedroom was larger than he remembered. Was that T.V always there? When did I move the drawer? That's new; I don't remember buying those paintings. The entire place seemed unfamiliar with its misplaced furniture, wall murals, and unusual décor. There was a rustle in the sheets. Matthias looked down beside him at the sleeping stranger – just someone he met at the bar. He put two and two together and realized what must've happened. Oh, this is her room. He took a better look at the girl's face. Not as hot as I remember, but still cute. Soon the girl's eye's batted open and looked up at the man in her bed.

"Good morning," she chirped.

"G'morning." He propped himself up and laid back on the headboard. The girl also pulled herself up to the headboard.

"Err… so um… How are you?" she asked a bit awkwardly.

"I'm fine."

"Did you have any nice dreams?"

"Well, I died in the dream, so I guess not."

The chuckled and stroked her long brown hair. "Sorry if I seem a bit weird; I'm just not all that used to this kind of thing."

"No, it's okay," Matthias nodded understandingly.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"I guess since I'm, like, your host, I'll have to make something."

"It's not like you have to; I could be one who makes you something."

"It's fine; I think I have left over pie in the fridge, so neither of us will have to make something. C-can you get me that shirt over there?" she asked, pointing to an oversized t-shirt hanging on one of the knobs of the drawer.

"That one?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

Matthias slipped from under the covers, but not before pulling up the boxer briefs that were hanging around his ankles. He walked over to the drawer, took the top, walked over to the opposite side of the bed, and handed the shirt to her.

"Thanks. I kinda feel weird about you... seeing me naked, so, um, can you turn around?"

He slowly rotated and waited for her to put on the shirt.

"Okay," she said, pulling her hair out from inside the shirt and draping it over the back. "So let's head over to the kitchen and get that pie." She marched to the door and Matthias followed after putting on his pants and tying the sleeves of his flannel shirt around his waist. Once out the door, he noticed another young girl – about the age of thirteen — sitting in the living room couch. She took a good hard look at Matthias, examining him from head to toe.

"Hi," Matthias waved.

The girl didn't reply and her face remained neutral. She turned to the woman, standing behind a counter that divided the den and kitchen. She raised a thumb's up of approval. The older girl burst into a fit of laughter. "Don't do that."

Matthias just smiled and walked over to the counter and took a seat at one of the tall chairs.

"Sorry, that's just my little sister being a weirdo."

"It's cool. I'd do the same if my sister smashed someone so..." he vogued his hands around his face. "majestic."

The girl giggled. "Here's the pie; help yourself."

Matthias stared at the half eaten Key Lime pie. He didn't like sweets, but he didn't want to seem rude and turn down her generous offer. He poked the fork into the pie and brought it into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed quickly, trying to keep himself from gagging. It honestly wasn't as bad as he initially thought, but he still only ate a few pieces.

"So umm… do you remember any of last night?" the girl asked nervously.

Matthias knitted his brows together, trying to piece together broken memories. "Er… I was at the bar, waiting for a friend of mine, he didn't turn up. He called and said he wasn't feeling well. I took a couple shots and was about to leave, but then I saw you, and you looked kind of sad. We talked, took even more shots, and that's about all I can remember."

"Yep, and now we're in my apartment."

"Mhm. Did I act cool or stupid?"

"I little bit of both. But at least you made my day – or night."

"Hehe, well, that's what I do," Matthias said jokingly.

"This is sort of an awkward question, but… do you remember my name?"

"Honestly, no," Matthias admitted.

"That's okay… James?"

"No,"he sighed.

"I guess that makes us even then," the girl chuckled once more.

"So, those paintings," Matthias said, trying to get to know the host, "you painted them."

"Yeah, I'm an artist. I take portraits, posters, book covers, teach lessons; I'm running a business."

"Nice, you're art's really good. Maybe I'll ask for something one day."

"Here's her business card with her number, website, and email," popped in the young girl in a robotic tone, white card in hand.

Matthias flinched at the unexpected voice. He took the card and put it in his pocket. "Thanks." He slapped the counter top as he stood up from the chair "It was nice meeting you, but I better get goin'. I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"It was nice meeting you, too. Hope to bump into you again." Though, both of them knew it was best not to contact each other after this.

Matthias looked back and saw the thirteen-year-old's deadpan expression. He smiled. Matthias put his shirt on and the woman led him to the door. They said their farewells before Matthias headed for the elevator to the ground floor. Standing outside the building's front entrance, he examined the tall towers around him. He recognized he was deep in the heart of the city, far away from home. The sun was high overhead, suggesting it was some time around noon, but he couldn't make sure for certain since his phone had died. He sniffed at his shirt and checked his breath. He didn't smell too bad, but he probably should've stayed over a little longer to at least brush his teeth. Did they think i smelled bad? Note: take a shower when I get home. He walked around, trying to hail a cab – which took a bit longer than expected, considering he was at the center of a busy, bustling city.

After what seemed like an hour long drive, Matthias reached his house, ran upstairs, and jumped right into the tub. He ran a hot bath and sat as the water level rose. Today was a free day for both him and Berwald, so he wouldn't have to worry about Ber heading off to work if he showed up late. He turned off the tap before the water was too high. He sank into the water and some of it overflowed over the edge of the tub. Ber sounded pretty sick and what kind of brother would I be if I didn't try to get him well? Besides, he did try to help me out with that pick pocket.

It has been a week since he first confronted the clerk at the café. In the three days that followed, during his break, he went back to the café and argued with the cashier and was repeatedly kicked out. Berwald eventually did arrive to "enforce justice," only after constant reminders and succumbing to uncomfortable over-sexualized appeals.


The brother duo walked into the establishment. Matthias held open the glass door for Berwald who followed behind. Matthias looked to the front of the line, behind the counter, at the wrong doer. Berwald followed his brother's crazed stare to a thin, pale, blonde, young man.

"Is that him?" Berwald asked.

"Yeah," Matthias sneered, maniacally narrowing his eyes and biting his lip, not breaking his gaze from the cashier.

"Okay so that'll be…" Lukas looked up from the cash register and made eye contact with the mad Dane ogling at him. His forced smile faded into a menacing glare.

"So that'll be?" asked the customer, still waiting to pay. He looked behind to see whatever the clerk was staring at and nervously turned back to the cashier after a glimpse of Berwald's stark expression.

"Oh, sorry," Lukas apologized, shaking back to reality. "That'll be twelve, ninety-nine."

The customer paid and Lukas gave him the change and receipt. Lukas continued to serve customers, but kept an eye on Matthias. He was now at the front of the line and looked down at the cashier with crossed arms and a supercilious toothy grin.

"This is the fifth time you've shown up just to fucking yell at me. If you don't leave now, I'm calling the police," Lukas threatened, wearing his default callous expression.

"I've already called the police." Matthias tilted his head to Berwald. "This is my brother – the cop. The one you said 'could kiss your ass,' 'suck your dick,' 'go fuck himself,' and all those other nice things you talked about in the past few days."

Lukas looked Berwald up and down. He remained dauntless as he stared into Berwald's signature glare.

"He doesn't look like a cop," he commented, referring to Berwald's casual clothing.

"I'm off-duty," Berwald answered.

"An off-duty cop is still a cop; he can still arrest you," Matthias smirked.

"All are innocent until proven guilty; he can't arrest me without proper evidence." Lukas took another look at Berwald. "He honestly looks like he doesn't want to be here."

I don't.

The manager took notice of the familiar wild blonde hair and paced to the cashier's side. "Please leave. You've been coming in and making huge scenes for days. You're making the customers uncomfortable. We've told you a million times; he doesn't have your wallet."

"The guy behind him with the scary face is his police man brother that he doesn't shut up about."

"Oh." The manager shakily broke eye contact with Matthias then looked to Berwald. "I-I would like to see some form of identification."

Berwald reached into his pocket and fished out his police I.D. The manager looked at the card and nodded and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, si—officer , but as I've told your brother, there is no wallet of his in this building and such disputes should be taken outside the workplace."

"I understand, but I would like to search the locker room, if there is one, for myself," Berwald said.

"Yes, officer."

The manager led them to the back room and Berwald conducted his search of Lukas' locker. There was a white jacket and a backpack. Inside the pack was a phone, its charger, a change of clothes, bottle of Xanax, and a wallet.

"Is this it?" Berwald asked his brother, showing him the only wallet he found inside.

"No," Matthias shook his head.

"It's mine," Lukas said, walking to Berwald and snatching the wallet out his hand.

"Then he doesn't have your wallet. Let's go." Berwald felt anxious about having to be here. He didn't have a warrant to conduct a search and feared he would be caught by someone from work or called out by one of the employees. He didn't know why he couldn't just turn down his brother's requests or just tell Matthias he didn't have permission to do this. He was risking his job just to humor Matthias' obsessive grudge.

"Even the cop said it; I don't have your wallet." the clerk exulted.

"Well, check the other lockers; maybe they hid it somewhere else," Matthias argued.

"May I?" Berwald asked, turning to the manager. He nodded. Berwald proceeded to thoroughly examine each locker. Matthias' confidence lowered as he moved from one locker to the next.

"Sorry, but your wallet isn't here," Berwald rephrased, shaking his empty hands.

Matthias' brows knitted together. "I know that guy took my wallet… Search his house!"

"I can't do that without a warrant."

"HA!" Lukas pointed at Matthias. "Now leave!"

Matthias kissed his teeth and shook his head, letting out a loud sigh through his nostrils. Suddenly, a memory popped into mind. "Wait, wait, wait. I have witnesses. My friends were with me and they saw what happened." Matthias pulled out his phone and went through his contacts. He put the phone on speaker as it began to ring.

"Dude, quit trying. You've already lost; the cop said I don't have it."

Matthias refused to listen and rolled his eyes.

"Hey, man. What's up?" A voice greeted through the mobile.

" 'sup Gil. You remember when we went to the park and the guy pinched my wallet?"

"Yeah."

"You still remember what he looked like?"

"Sorry, man. ' Didn't see his face. And even if I did I'd probably ''ve forgotten it by now."

"Thanks for nothing."

"No problem." With that, Matthias hung up the call. A smug grin began to curl the cashier's lips.

"I still have one more witness," Matthias said before calling another one of his contacts. "Hey, Alfred."

" 'sup." Low dialogue could be heard in the background, possibly from the television.

"You have amazing memory." Why didn't I call him first?

"Mhm."

"You still remember how the guy who pick pocketed looked like?"

"Uhhh, he was on his phone. He was shorter than you 'cause ,like, his head hit your chest."

"Ah, shorter than me, huh?" Matthias walked over to Lukas and waved a hand from the top of Lukas' head to the corresponding height on his body. "Shorter than me."

Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Continue."

"Well, I think he had a white hoodie…"

"OH MY GOD!" Matthias raced back to Lukas' locker and pulled out the jacket. "WHITE HOODIE!"

"Oh shit, I've been found out," Lukas sobbed. "You caught me. The thief had a white hoodie and I have a white hoodie, so I-I must be the thief. Because, apparently, I'm the only person in this entire fucking city with a white hoodie like this, even though you can find it in any store in town." He glumly sauntered to Berwald. He raised his wrists to the officer. "Take me away, officer. I am the thief because, y'know, I have a white hoodie and that's enough evidence to charge me with theft."

"He also said the thief was shorter than me and you're shorter than me," Matthias added.

"Oh my God, that's true!" Lukas cried. "I am shorter than you – even though, you're really tall, so there are probably at least seven million people in this country who are gonna be shorter than you." Lukas looked to the manager and sniffled. "Charles, I'm going to jail because I'm average height."

"Dude, shut up," barked Matthias.

"How 'bout you shut up, you loud mouth."

"WHY ARE YOU SO GODDAMN MEAN?"

"Why are you so goddamn loud?"

"Are you two done?" Berwald cut in. "Matthias, let Alfred finish talking."

"Tell me more about how the guy looked like, but be more specific this time. How did his face look like?" Matthias said into the phone.

"I didn't see his face all that well. I honestly can't remember that much about the guy; I didn't pay all that much attention to 'im."

"You sure? You can't remember anything else?"

"Nope."

"Thanks for the help."

"Anytime."

Matthias cut off the call. "Well, he is shorter than me and he has a white hoodie, sooooo…"

"Dude, you're really stupid. Me being shorter than you and having a white jacket doesn't prove that I stole your wallet. It just proves that I'm shorter than you and I have a white jacket."

"He has a point," Berwald agreed. "I can't arrest him for that."

"Ber, you're supposed to be on backing me up," Matthias whined.

"The law isn't biased."

"But family is." Matthias mewled.

"Well, I guess that solves the issue; he doesn't have your wallet," the manager added. "Have a nice day, and if you want to eat anything, you can order on your way out."

Berwald and Matthias walked out the building, Matthias rushing out grouchily. He still wasn't satisfied with the verdict. He is definitely the guy; I can feel it. The next day, he went back to the café. At the door, he noticed a leaflet on the glass. It was a black and white picture of him from the security camera. At the bottom was a bold caption. Banned. He peered through the window, at the cashier. The clerk took notice and wiggled his fingers patronizingly at him. Matthias flipped him off before stomping back to work.


You know what, fuck it. I'll give it a rest. I can't go to the café anymore and I don't think I'll ever get my wallet back. He blew into the water and watched as the little bubbles popped on the surface. He was defeated. He wasted more than enough of his time on that clerk, why waste any more? Today, Berwald's health was his main concern.

After washing up, brushing his teeth, and dressing, he looked through all his drawers and cabinets, scavenging for medicines and pain killers. He looked closely at the labels to see if some were expired and checked the contents to see if there was enough. He didn't have that many drugs in his house, but most of what he could find had either expired months prior or was almost finished. All he could use was a half-full pack of Ibuprofen. This wouldn't be enough to suffice. He took the phone that he had been charging since he got home and the new wallet he bought the day before along with the pills and went to the car. He reversed the out the driveway and drove from the street onto the road. At the red light, he pulled out his phone and searched up "foods for headaches," and "foods for flu." The light turned green and he continued on to the grocery store. He parked and turned off the car and briskly walked through the parking lot and grabbed a basket once he entered the store. He looked at his phone and scrolled down the list of foods claimed to relieve headaches and influenza. He went from aisle to aisle, from the meat section to the veggies and fruits. Now all he needed was chicken soup. He walked to the lane with shelves lined with cans of broths, stews, and soups. He followed the shelves down, looking for what he needed. Near the end of the aisle, a store worker was squatted down, restocking the lower shelves. Matthias approached the worker and asked, "Um excuse me, I need some help finding the chicken soup." The worker froze in place, a can of spaghetti still in his hand.

"Oh my God," he groaned under his breath, not turning around to face the customer.

Matthias furrowed his brow at the unexpectedly rude response. The employee didn't move.

"Hello, I need some help."

The employee stifled an aggravated sigh, reached up to one of the higher shelves, and tossed a can back with a flick of his wrist. Matthias caught the can and read the label.

"This is canned ravioli; I asked for chicken soup."

"You can find the chicken soup on the other end of the aisle, on the third shelf, under the beef stew," he drawled in a familiar dreariness.

"Uhuh." The impolite behavior was starting to make sense. "Can you show me to the soup?"

The worker quickly got up and went over to fetch the can. Matthias got enough of a glimpse of his face to confirm his suspicions. He followed behind the employee. The worker grabbed a can and forcefully shoved it into Matthias' chest.

"Can you do that again, but more gentle this time?"

"Did you seriously come here just to mess with me?" The worker finally revealed his face, which he didn't do a very good job at hiding.

"I didn't even know you worked here. Don't you work at the café?"

"Can't a guy have two jobs?"

Matthias shrugged.

Lukas blew air through his nostrils. "Dude, please don't blow up with that wallet bullshit here. Do you know how humiliating and infuriating it is to get screamed at by some random guy for five days. Now you got a bunch of people thinking I steal stuff with all these false accusations. Even a couple of my coworkers think I can't be trusted. I don't need that here, guy. And if you are here just here to yell at me, I'm gonna report you, and you're gonna get banned from here, too."

Matthias nodded. "I'm sorry. It is pretty messed up that I show up to your work just to be mean to you, but I have forgiven you…"

"Forgiven me for what? I didn't do anything, so there's nothing to forgive me for."

"I mean to say that I've gotten over it and I am very sorry for humiliating and screaming at you ..."

"And ruining my reputation."

"And ruining your reputation."

"And getting my paycheck deducted."

Matthias furrowed his brow. "I didn't do that."

"Charles deducted my paycheck for using foul language in front of the customers."

"That ain't my fault."

"It is. You provoked me; I wouldn't curse you out if you didn't scream at me," Lukas pointed out.

"Okay, I'm sorry for provoking you. Can we just be friends?" Matthias held out his hand and faked an apologetic smile.

Lukas eyes shot around the area as if he were looking for an answer. He rubbed at his chin, sucked in his lips, shook his head. "No." he slapped away Matthias' hand.

"I am truly sorry for doing all of it, okay? I will never mess with you again."

"I still won't forgive you."

"C'mon, man, why you gotta be like that? I'm tryna bury the hatchet."

"Well, I'm gonna excavate that fucker. You think I can just forgive you," Lukas snapped his fingers, "like that? No. You hurt my feelings and tried to get me arrested." He crossed his arms.

"And I'm sorry for that..."

"Not only that, but you tried to come the day after your brother said I was clean and yell at me again; I saw you. The only reason you didn't go inside was because you were banned from the place. And the only reason you're apologizing now is because you realize that you're a dumbass."

"Don't call me a dumbass. I'm saying I'm sorry."

"Okay, so? I said that I didn't do anything, but you still came back. Words don't mean anything."

Matthias blew out a sigh and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet.

"And you had your wallet this entire time?"

"No, I bought this a couple days ago. Here." He handed Lukas a twenty.

"You can't buy my forgiveness and even if you could, it wouldn't be as cheap as twenty bucks."

"Then give me the money back," Matthias said, opening his palm.

"No." Lukas stuffed the bill into his pocket.

Matthias glared at Lukas with a deep frustration. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his composure. "Y'know, we don't actually have to be friends; we could just leave the past in the past and never talk to each other ever again."

"Nah, I hold grudges for a long time, okay; I don't forgive and forget, so until you get your due punishment, I won't be satisfied. I will find away to make you suffer. "

Matthias shrugged off the warning. "Sure, whatever; Can you give me my soup?"

"You have arms; they work. Do it yourself," Lukas spat before walking off.

Matthias crinkled his nose. He took a can of chicken soup and went to the shelf Lukas had just arranged. He stood there and looked back at Lukas. He inserted his arm into the shelf.

"What are you doing?" Lukas growled with hidden concern. He quickened his pace, but before he could reach...

"Oops," Matthias smirked. With a wave of his arm, half of the cans poured onto the ground, clinking and clanging as they hit the floor and rolled around and bumped into each other.

"Pick them up," Lukas ordered through his clenched teeth.

"It's not my job. You just threatened me. You said you were going to make me suffer, so I'll make you suffer." Matthias smirked.

"Pick. Them. Up. Asshole."

"Nope."

Lukas' breathing had quickened and his hands were balled into fists. "I swear to God you're the biggest cunt I've ever met. I hope you die of AIDS. Oh wait, you actually have to get laid to catch and STD. I hope you get cancer." He squatted down and picked up the cans and put them back into the shelves, cursing in Norwegian under his breath.

" Actually, I do get laid. I had sex last night."

"Mmmhmm, sure." Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Y'know, if you asked nicely, I might possibly help. I'm a pretty nice guy who responds best to positive vibes."

"Nice guys don't fuck up five to ten minutes worth of work," Lukas remarked.

Matthias got down on one knee, picked up a can and inserted into the shelf.

"Oh wow, so helpful; too bad there's at least thirty cans left, not to mention: you put it in the wrong place, you fuckhead."

"Well, enjoy your can stacking." Matthias sang as he walked off.

"I HATE YOU!"

As Matthias walked to the checkout lane, seeds of guilt started sprouting. What he did was quite childish, even by his standards. He deserved it; he was being mean first. Damn my good morals! He turned and race walked back to the aisle. He knelt down next to Lukas. He took the cans from the ground and put them into the shelf.

"You're lucky I actually am a good person," Matthias grouched.

"I'm still not going to forgive you."

"Whatever."


After paying for the items, he went to a nearby pharmacy to buy medication. Once his little shopping spree had ended, he drove to Berwald's house. He put the two plastic bags in one hand and vigorously pressed on the doorbell.

"Hey, Ber, can I come in?" Matthias said as Berwald opened the door.

"What are those bags for?" Berwald asked, noticing the bag's in his brother's hand.

"You said you weren't feeling well, so I thought I could get you some stuff to help you feel better."

Berwald hesitated to reply from a bit of confusion, but quickly got things together. "I also remember saying that you didn't need to come over and I'm actually feeling better now."

Matthias placed his palm on Berwald's forehead. "Your temperature seems good, too. Now I feel stupid because I bought this stuff for no reason." He chuckled.

"What are in those bags?"

"Oh, um, so I searched up online for a bunch of foods and stuff that could help cure colds and reduce headaches and I thought, y'know, I could make you, like, a 'healing meal.'"

Berwald took a closer look at the grocery bag. "How are spicy chips and tabasco sauce supposed to make me feel better?"

"Spicy foods reduce headache," Matthias shrugged. "May I come in?"

Berwald nodded. Matthias let himself in and went to the kitchen to drop the bags. He plopped onto the couch next to his brother.

"Are you sure you're okay, though?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Berwald answered.

"M'kay," Matthias nodded. "How's work been on the night shift?"

"Not much happens; mainly just drunk drivers and nuisance report calls; nothing too crazy."

"That's good." He rested his arm on the back of the sofa and rested his head on his shoulder. "Let me be honest with you: as cool as it is, you being a cop and all, doing all this crime fighting, it scares me. I'm scared you'll get hurt one day. When you tell me stuff like 'I was in a shootout with some drug dealers,' or 'I was in a high speed chase with robbers,' I think that it's super cool my brother has an action packed life, but at the same time, I'm having a heart attack. Life is already short, but with a job like yours, you're practically testing your luck. You might think that I'm clingy, but that's just me trying to make as much memories with you in case something happens."

"Clingy," was a bit of an understatement, but the sentimentality was appreciated.

"Ber, why did you want to become a police officer anyway?"

Berwald shrugged apathetically. There was no special reason for him becoming a cop; he had the same motives as any other person on the force. "I want to protect people. Not everyone has the bravery to protect themselves, let alone protect others, and since I'm one of the few that does, I should use it to benefit society rather than doing some… boring ass office job."

He's so selfless. "Yeah, but you're so smart. You could've chosen to be a scientist or a, a lawyer or a doctor." Matthias wiggled his finger suggestively. "Doctors protect people, kind of. They save lives and don't risk their own the process."

Scientist, lawyer, doctor. Of course, boring jobs that were expected of a scrawny nerd in specs. That may have been another reason why Berwald didn't choose those careers. He wanted to do something unexpected, something thrilling, something not boring.

"There's nothing we can do about it now; I went through the academy and I've already got the job."

"You can always quit," Matthias proposed all too eagerly.

"I'm not quitting." And as long as Tino still worked there, quitting wasn't going to be an option.

Matthias sighed in disappointed acceptance. "Is it fun, at least? What's the point of continuing if you don't enjoy it?"

"Meh, I guess. You never know what to expect and you meet some pretty interesting characters. And I work a very lively part of town…"

"What part of town?" Matthias cut in.

Berwald furrowed his brow in minor annoyance.

"The sc… La Costa."

"Oh, that's a really nice place, but it's super far. You go there every night?"

"Yes," Berwald answered.

Matthias oohed in childish enthusiasm. "Can you take me?"

"I'm not sure; whe…"

"Right now."

"No, I'm not ready at all to go out and it's sort of far."

"Well, I guess you better get ready because we got a long drive ahead of us."

"Naw, I don't want t'go," Berwald drawled.

"Fine, then when is a better time?"

"I don't know; next week, next month; I honestly don't really care. I go there all the time and it's not that interesting of a place."

"But you've never gone with me. Maybe you're just bored because you only do boring stuff. Cops just sit in the car and watch stuff happen, right? But now you can go out with me and actually do some fun stuff."

"Such as?"

"There are a lot of clubs and bars there."

"Yes, because I just love getting drunk," Berwald said sarcastically.

Matthias knitted his eyebrows in thought. La Costa wasn't known for much else aside from the bars and clubs. Well, there were a couple hotels and casinos, but that seemed a bit much. The beach, maybe?

Matthias snapped his fingers when the perfect location popped into mind: "The boardwalk."

"That's even further away, like, at the very end of La Costa," Berwald complained.

"But it's very nice, especially at night."

Berwald shook his head.

"Please. Because we could die at any moment, Ber, so we gotta make use of the time we know we still have. What if I die? You're just gonna, just gonna sulk around and cry and regret that you didn't go out with me to the boardwalk." Matthias deepened his voice. "I should have gone out with my big brother more often, showed him all my love and appreciation, man. We could've made great memories at the boardwalk, but we can't make anymore memories because he's dead."

"Was that supposed to be me?"

"Yeah," Matthias answered in his still deepened voice.

"If I agree to go, will you stop doing that?"

"Uhuh."

"Stop."

"Okay."

Berwald sighed exasperatedly. "I'll get ready."


Matthias volunteered to drive. It was a long ride and by the time they reached the boardwalk, it was already evening. Berwald and Matthias simultaneously stepped out the parked car. Across the street was the wooden avenue, lined with large restaurants, bars, and cafés. Behind those buildings, the boardwalk extended with more eateries as well as surf shops, clubs, boutiques, and other places of attraction. Farther down was an amusement park on the pier, with rides and attractions that added a neon glow to the fading sky. Sea breeze from the nearby beach cooled down the summer night and seabirds cawing in the background kept the scene from being too quiet. Of course such a place would be popular, especially during this time of year. Tourists and locals going up and down the path, hanging out with friends, taking in the sights, or just doing some evening exercises.

"Alright, let's get going," Matthias said as he began his stride to the lively zone. Berwald wasn't far behind and quickly was at his side.

"What do you want to do first?" Matthias asked, turning to Berwald; he shrugged. "Just walk?"

"Whatever; it was your idea to come; I thought you had already had some sort of list of things to do," Berwald spoke lamely.

Matthias looked around for anything that looked interesting. In a place as active as this, there was always something exciting. There was a small crowd gathered to the side of the boardwalk, near the front of a shop.

"Wanna check what that's about?"

"Sure. It's probably a performer."

"Yeah."

They walked to the small group. At the center gathering, there was, as expected, a street performer, a magician. He wore a black and white striped long sleeve shirt and skinny jeans that looked too skinny. His eyes were red and he had presumably fake fangs to create the idea he was a vampire. On his shaggy light brown hair, he wore a bowler hat. He walked up to a young woman in the crowd who was recording the show on her phone.

"Can I see this?" he said in a light eastern European accent. It was hard to tell if it was just part of the act or if it was how he genuinely spoke.

"Yeah," the girl nodded.

The magician took the phone from her hands and examined it closely as he walked back to the center. He flipped in his hands and looked at it from every angle.

"Is this a new model?" he questioned, not taking his eyes off the phone.

"Yes and I just got it so please be gentle with it," the girl chuckled.

"Oh, don't worry; I'll be very, very…" VEEESSH! With a flick of the wrist, he flung the phone into the air, not even looking back to where it may have landed. The woman shrieked and looked in the direction of where it may have gone. She was in a frenzy, running up and down, asking people if they saw it land near them. She had a mini heart attack when she realized the phone was nowhere to be found.

"Where is it?" she asked, panicking.

The magician still kept his smug demeanor. "Did you check your pockets or your purse?"

The girl fished through her pockets and her purse. "It's not there."

He patted himself and searched through all his own pockets. "Oooh, it's not on me either. Wait, did you come here with a friend?"

"Her," she said looking back to another girl in the crowd.

"Can you call or text her phone?" he asked the friend. The friend complied and when she hit call, a ringtone immediately began to play. She ran in the direction of the noise and bystanders looked around for the source.

"I still can't find it."

"Try looking up," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Oh my God, that's so crazy!" Hovering above her head, her phone was high in the sky. The audience clapped and cheered.

"That's pretty cool," Berwald mumbled, impressed by the display.

"It's fake. There's probably, like, a string or something; she's probably an actor. It's not magic," Matthias scoffed in blatant disbelief.

"Ooooh, I hear a nonbeliever," sang the magician, snapping his fingers, dropping the phone from where it flew. "Come here."

Matthias walked forward to the center.

"You don't believe in my power?"

"Nope," Matthias shook his head.

"Well, I'm gonna make you believe with this little trick: good old fashion fortune telling; nothing too flashy or too crazy. Hold out your hands."

Matthias rolled his eyes patronizingly and held out his hands. The magician took off his bowler hat above Matthias palms. He gave it a good tap and out dropped a crystal ball. Matthias was a bit overwhelmed by the sudden addition of weight and the ball almost fell out his grasp. Another round of applause.

"Now watch." The magician stared into the ball and waved his hands for a more magical effect.

"Nothing's happening."

"That's because you don't have magic eyes." He continued swaying his arms and wiggling his fingers. "You will find love in the most unlikely of people."

"I call bull. That's so general and vague; I could read something like that in a fortune cookie."

"If you want me to go deep and start talking about your destiny and stuff, that requires me to look into your personal life and I don't want to invade your privacy or anything."

"No, go ahead. Go deep into my destiny, bro. I wanna hear this."

"Okay, fine." He recommenced the hand gestures as he looked into the glass. His face cringed. "I see you have a… connection with someone in the crowd. That guy," he said looking to Berwald.

"Yeah, he's my brother."

"Ce pula mea?" he cursed under his breath. His face twisted in disgust as he looked from Berwald to Matthias.

"So what did you see?"

"Some... rated R type stuff," the magician gulped in a low voice, making sure the rest of the crowd couldn't hear.

Berwald had gone white. A cold anxiety settled itself in his gut.

"Just tell me what you saw, dude."

"Uhh, you're going to do something very bad, even worse than what you're doing now," he whispered. He looked concernedly at Berwald. Now, the Swede was even more terrified. Matthias caught on to the staring.

"Is something going to happen to my broth..."

"Matthias, let's go," Berwald said with a stern voice.

"Wait a minute; I still want to he…"

"Let's go!"

"Just let me…"

"Now."

"Okay, jeez. Here's your magic ball back." Matthias dropped the glass into the magician's hands and walked to his brother's side. They left the crowd and Berwald walked as quickly as possible, trying to distance himself from both the magician and Matthias.

"MY CONDOLENCES!" the magician screamed in the distance.

"Hey, wait up," called Matthias when finally reached him again. "What was that about?"

"I didn't like the show; let's do something else," expressed Berwald.

"Couldn't it wait until after a heard my 'fortune.'"

"You said it yourself; the magic's fake. He probably was gonna say something made up."

Matthias could tell from his rushed voice that something was upsetting Berwald.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing; I just got bored."

"I know that's not why; just tell me."

"It's nothing." He didn't even look at Matthias. He didn't want him to notice his eyes were glossing over. Berwald wasn't going to tell and Matthias didn't want to force it out of him or else it may distress him even more.

"Alright," Matthias breathed. "So what do you wanna try?"

"I don't know, a ride? Maybe a couple games." Anything to get his mind of that too close call.

They walked down the boardwalk to the pier – the whole time, Berwald feeling a bit anxious, as if he was the center of everyone's negative attention. The entrance was a wide gate with a bright sign overhead, reading "Port Wonder." They walked over to the ticket booth that divided the entrance. A cheery teen sat in the lit booth in his royal blue uniform polo shirt.

"Hi, welcome to Port Wonder," he greeted once the two reached the window.

"Hey," Matthias replied. He looked at the price board and to Berwald. "So which rides do you want to try?"

Berwald wasn't really a fan of fast rides, and the screams and whooshing metal-on-metal roars sounded a bit intimidating. He simply shrugged.

"If you can't pick just one, why not try all?" the ticket worker suggested. "All summer long, we're offering the "Unlimited Games & Rides" pass for only twenty-five dollars."

"So that's fifty bucks for the whole night?" Matthias asked.

"Actually there's a three hour time limit."

"Ber, are you fine with that?"

He hummed in affirmation. He reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

"You don't have to; I'll pay," Matthias grinned. He slid the money into the slot and the teen slid the cards.

He smirked. "Enjoy your date."

Berwald glowered at the ticket worker. "We're not a couple," he austerely rectified.

"Oh. But have fun anyway."

The two men walked into the gates and roamed to look for something that may be exciting, though Berwlad walked at a much quicker pace, forming a gap that continued to widen. Is that what people think? They think we're dating? Matthias sped up to catch up.

"You want to try that ride over there?" Matthias said pointing to a swing ride, aptly named "The Sky Swirl."

Berwald sighed anxiously. The machine was extremely tall and looked like it was going rather fast. It did look terrifying, but still had some appeal to it. "Sure," he said warily.

As soon as Berwald got into the line, he regretted his decision. The ride ended and the line began moving. The worker swiped their passes and Berwald gave him his glasses. They walked to the contraption. The seats were in pairs. Matthias sat with Berwald and secured them in. We're sitting. Together. It's not weird for two guys to sit together on a ride. No one would assume we were related and I'm pretty sure no one would think we were in a relationship either. Actually that ticket guy did, so maybe other people might also. Is anyone looking?

"Are you ready?" Matthias asked, jittery and excited.

"No."

After the worker checked all the seats, they began their ascent. The machine began to whirl once they got high enough off the ground, but it still continued to go higher. It spun faster and faster; all its patrons (including Matthias) began screaming and whooping, except Berwald, who squeezed his eyes and mouth shut. How was this enjoyable? Shooting through the sky with cold air smacking you in the face, your body being forced back, and the risk of plummeting to your death. Why did I agree to this?

"Ber, open your eyes; the view is awesome!"

It was a 360 degree view of the pier. All the neon of the rides and stalls, the people on the ground, ant-like in the low distance. The rest of La Costa could even be seen, the clubs, the beach, the park; all being taken in in quick glimpses as the contraption spun. The sky above them, even at this height, was still as boring as Tino said it was. The machine didn't seem as terrifying as it was at first.

"Matthias, I'm blind, not to mention everything is moving. All I see is motion blur." Berwald almost yelled, trying to overcome the whooshing winds.

"Oh, yeah! Just know that you can see the whole area from up here!"

Sooner than expected, the machine began its descent, slowing its swing. The seats leisurely rotated and came to stop, mere feet off the ground. The worker went to each bench and unfastened the riders. Matthias and Berwald asked the worker for Berwald's glasses back and continued their roam of the fair. No one was looking at us, good.

It wasn't long before, Matthias spotted another "fun" ride.

"Let's go on that one," he said pointing to a speeding roller coaster filled with drops and loopty-loops and corkscrews.

"Ummmmm, okay."


After a handful of adrenaline rushing, heart pumping thrill rides, Berwald finally decided enough was enough.

"Let's just go and eat or go to the arcade or something. I'm starting to get a headache."

"Yeah, okay. We'll try the arcade and then eat or do you want to eat and then go to the arcade."

"I don't care which; I just don't want to go on anymore rides."

"To the arcade."

They walked side by side to the arcade, Matthias being a bit too close for comfort. Berwald looked around; making sure no one was watching. Berwald was always a bit on edge whenever he went out with Matthias, always a bit nervous about catching people's attention. But right now, he was more paranoid and also quite angry at Matthias. The only reason he didn't storm off home earlier was because that would make things look suspicious – though urging to leave in the middle of a magic show was enough to raise a few concerns. And they came in Matthias' car. He was somewhat hoping that the amusement park would get his mind off of it, but the constant feel of being watched made him even more fretful. He walked faster and widened the gap between them. Matthias also picked up the pace, but Berwald would continue to quicken. Matthias giggled.

"Are we having race?"

Berwald didn't answer. He was trying to make as much distance as possible, but Matthias, being incredibly fucking dense, couldn't realize that – but if he did realize it, he may have had another episode, which would get a lot more people's attentions, so in a way, his denseness was a good thing.

They got to the arcade and went over to the first thing that caught Matthias' attention:

"Want to play some air hockey?"

Air hockey. That's, like, a two-player game, right? Two people exclusively playing a game, with only each other. That may come off as a little intimate to someone watching. I mean, what if someone thought that Matthias and I were together just because of a little game of air hockey. No, that's ridiculous. Do people just assume that people have intimate relationships just because a game of air hockey? Maybe they'll think we're just friends. I've never looked at two people playing air hockey and thought that they were probably fucking and…

"Ber, you wanna play or not?"

"Huh." Berwald hadn't noticed; he was too deep in paranoid thought.

"I asked if you wanted to play air hockey; are you okay?" Matthias asked a tad worried.

No.

"Yeah, just thinking about some stuff. Let's go play."

They went to the table and took the two strikers. They swiped their passes on the side of the table and the air started flowing from the pores on the white surface. Matthias struck the puck; Berwald deflected it. Another strike, another ricochet. Neither were scoring; they matched each other in reaction. But Berwald noticed in the corner of his eye, a group of girls, five maybe, giggling and chatting, and one of them was just looking at them. When she noticed Berwald looking, she averted her gaze. CLINK!

"Score!" Matthias cheered.

Berwald brought his attention back to the game. He took the puck from the slot and served it. His eyes switched from the board to the girl, who would pretend as if she wasn't staring. The weight of her judgmental eyes. Why is she looking our way? CLINK!

"Another score goes to me; you better get your head in the game, Ber. I'm gonna win."

"Right," Berwald muttered. Again he took the puck and a quick glance to the observer. She was saying something to a friend, a girl in a head scarf. The friend also glanced back at them and quickly turned. Were they talking about us? And then something hit. That girl was at the magician's show. What if he told her what he saw? What if he told everyone? All those people roaming around, secretly chastising them and spreading rumors. It felt as if everyone was just staring at him and Matthias. The pressure was suffocating and he couldn't handle it.

"Matthias, I want to go home," he choked.

"What? But we still have about an hour left on these cards."

"I don't care; I wanna go home, now. I'm t-tired."

Matthias sighed, discouraged. "Is there something bothering you? You've been acting weird."

"I'm not acting weird just… lets, lets go." Berwald didn't give Matthias another say on the matter and started his walk. He didn't know or care if Matthias was following, but knowing him, he probably was.

"Berwald, what's the matter?" Matthias pleaded as he approached.

"Nothing is the matter."

Matthias continued to pry as they walked back to the car. Berwald would just give him some variation of "there's nothing wrong," and at one point stopped answering all together. He banged the door when he entered. It was a long and quiet drive. Though he was hard to read and he usually didn't show his true feelings, this was one of the few times Berwald seemed distressed. Whenever he was deeply upset, he was more emotionally vulnerable and closer to Matthias; he would just gush out his feelings. But now, he was just quiet, which made Matthias all the more worried.

They reached Berwald's house and Matthias parked the car in the driveway. Berwald hurriedly got out the car and slammed its door shut. He paced to the front door. As Matthias approached him, he noticed that Berwald had still not unlocked the door. His hands were shaky and agitated; he kept jamming the key into the lock, but kept missing the keyhole. He finally got it in, unlocked the door, and flung it open.

"Berwald, what's wrong?" Matthias pleaded for an answer.

"Nothing's wrong; I'm perfectly fine." Even though his voice sounded the exact opposite. "I'm just tired, okay? You know how people get all aggro when they get tired; that's what's going on; I'm tired and grouchy."

"Berwald if there's something wrong, just tell me."

"I'm telling you ' I'm just tired.' I wanna sleep and you should probably go home." Berwald forced himself to calm his tone. "It's late and you have to start work super early and what are you supposed to do here while I'm asleep. Just go home; get some rest. "

"Ber…"

"Goodnight."

Matthias let out a defeated sigh. "Goodnight." As he leaned in to kiss him, Berwald turned his head a bit. Matthias' lips just barely brushed his cheek. Matthias turned back to the car and Berwald didn't waste any time to shut the door. Matthias got back into the car and drove off.

Berwald stomped into his room, ripped off his jacket, and through it at the headboard. His breathing had sped up and deepened. He dropped to the bed and put his head his head in his hands, wriggling his fingers through his hair. The way the magician looked at him. Such disgust and pity in his eyes. Berwald didn't even need to hear his words to know what he saw. Now, some complete stranger knew Berwald's secret and could do with it what he wished. What if he told someone? Is that how the girl found out? Is that why she was looking? What if that information found its way to Tino and his colleagues? What would they think of him? They would be disgusted – just as Berwald felt towards himself. It was so painfully humiliating to be stuck in such a relationship with his brother. He didn't want anyone to think they were that close. Brothers? Fine. Friends? Okay. But lovers? No, not at all. And is Matthias fucking retarded or something?

Oh, I'm gonna use magic to look into your personal life.

That's cool, bro. There's nothing too private; y'know, just cake recipes, video game cheat codes, weird foreign porn, and hot, steamy moments of me tonguing down my little bro since, like, the third grade. Nothing crazy.

Dude, that's pretty fuckin' weird, but do you mind if I say it out loud in front of this big ass group of people?

Naw, man, that's alright. You should probably post it online, too. Let the whole world know about how much I just fucking love my little brother – or should I say "love fucking my little brother!" AHUR DA HUR DUHUR! I'm fucking stupid!

Was Matthias really that fucking clueless? Didn't he know how society felt about something so taboo? Does he not realize that such things were done behind closed doors for a reason? Berwald wanted so badly to cry out and scream. He honestly wanted to ditch Matthias when he had the chance, but he couldn't just do that right on the spot. He should've never agreed to going out. None of that would've happened. The magician and the staring and the gossiping.


What was wrong with Berwald? He was acting so weird. Does he seriously hate fake magic that much? Matthias wondered as he drove home. He parked in his driveway and walked to his front door. As he went through the keys on his key chain, he went through the events that just took place to see what may have triggered Berwald. When he inserted the key, he had his epiphany. It was the ticket guy. That's why he was upset. He thought we were dating. Berwald was very closed about his sexuality ever since he first started questioning it. The only other people that knew about his preference were Matthias - who found out during one of Berwald's gushes of emotion - and the person that made him closed - the reason he was having the gush of emotion.

It's my fault. I should have invited some other people instead of just the two of us. He was probably nervous because he didn't want people to think we're dating. Why am I so stupid.


Author's note:

Ce pula mea? means what the fuck/ what my dick

Late bcuz of exams. sorry if the chapter is confusing

Side not: I honestly really hate the "love at first sight" trope used in a bunch in fanfics, but now i understand why people use it so much. It takes too long to build a relationship from scratch, especially considering how the characters in question don't see each other often. so the fanfic is probably gonna end up longer than expected. also i didn't mean to romanticise certain characters' relationship so early in the story, my fingers just slipped.

also the locations used in this story are totally fictional, all connections to real world places are pure coincidence. I found out Preston was a real place. No, this story is not set in England. I wanted the country to be ambiguous, which is why a tried to refrain from stating a currency. But i was forced to use dollars , bcuz saying bucks all the time would sound weird. so just pretend, it's a made up place that uses dollars.