“Come on, Prue.” Cameron’s voice from the other side of the door makes me jump. “I knew you were going to hog the bathroom.”
Cameron’s voice reminds me I’m not completely alone.
Gathering my stuff, I head out of the bathroom.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He smiles, but there is that look in his eyes he has had since he picked me up from the hospital that day. Guilt, concern, and pity. “Have a good day at school, sis.”
“Thanks.”
We are twins. He was born first, but I always felt like that was a mistake. I am more of an older sister than he has ever been an older brother to me. I guess five minutes isn’t that much older, but still, I’ve been taking care of him for as long as I can remember.
He is the wild child. Obsessed with everything that our parents despised. Tattoos, rock music, partying, and rebelling. From the day he came across rock music on the TV, he was hooked.
Taught himself how to play guitar by age 10 and has never stopped since. He poured his heart and soul into the music. In some ways I’m jealous of him. He has passion, something I’ve never had. I wish I had an ounce of it to put into a hobby or interest, but all I ever craved was praise and pleasing people.
So, I took on the role of being the well-behaved daughter. Every time my parents zeroed in on Cameron, trying to reign him in, I stepped in to show them they didn’t need to try to hinder him. They had me to parade around. I would do my job and his. Make the family look good.
It took a few years, but eventually they gave up on him completely. Put all their efforts into making sure I played my part right. Getting with Charles only helped take the spotlight off Cameron.
I give Cameron the freedom and support our parents couldn’t and he gives me a purpose. It is an unspoken agreement between us. We never talked it out, never mention it now. I know he knows what I’ve done for him. He is grateful for it. I see it every time he lands a spot on a tour for some bigger band. Every time he tells me about an interview with a record label. I see the thankfulness in his eyes.
Now I’m the grateful one.
When I ended up in the hospital after Charles’ assault, Cameron was the first person I called. I knew I could count on him to not judge, not question and offer me somewhere to hide.
His two-bedroom apartment isn’t the kind of place our parents would approve of, but he is rather proud of it. It’s in the area around the college I go to, simply because it’s cheap and it kept us close. He was able to get it at eighteen, moving out on graduation day. While our parents were watching me walk across the stage, unaware he had dropped out a few weeks prior, he packed up and left.
For the most part he pays for it on his own. Works two jobs and plays shows at local venues whenever he can. I help too. Slipping him some money when he has to quit his day jobs to go on tour. I treat him to dinners and buy him presents, like his dream car.
When our parents disowned him, they did it with grace. Cut him off for the most part, which was fine by him. He didn’t want to live on their dime longer than he had to. They don’t acknowledge him to their friends, but he gets invited to private family events. He rarely shows, but occasionally I ask him to come, and he does. They barely talk to or about him, andwhenever I bring him up, they only pretend to hear what I have to say.
It probably hurts me more than him. He is important to me. I envy his freedom and confidence. Getting to see him make something of his life is rewarding to me. Watching him throw himself into his dream is the greatest thing in the world.
If I don’t get to have control of my life at least knowing he does gets me through the day.
I can give up everything just for him to have a chance to make his dreams come true.
Though all that changed the minute Charles hurt me. Now I’m hiding out here, far away from my parents. Slowly becoming just as disgraced as he is.
He doesn’t seem bothered by it, though. He encourages me to embrace the freedom, but I know it doesn’t last.
Our parents keep begging me to return home. They didn’t mind Charles and me taking some time apart, but I know they expect us to reconcile.
Cameron is fully against that. Telling me to stay a few more days every time I even bring it up. Bringing me along to all his parties and shows.
The guilt is hidden in his eyes, a carbon copy of mine. He escaped first, leaving me to my own devices, which led to my own demise. Now he feels like he has the chance to save me.
And maybe he is right. Maybe it is time I become someone new. Leave the old me behind.
Become the bitch Ben Parker claimed I was.
Gathering up my textbooks and stuffing them into my tote bag, I realize I’m running short on time. Luckily, Cameron’s apartment is within walking distance, because driving and finding parking would probably take far longer.
If I leave now, I might even have time to stop by and grab a coffee from The Mug Life. It’s a small hole in the wall coffee shop just off campus, that all the students go to.
Going to an Ivy League college was the plan my parents had for me, but when Charles picked some smaller college, they allowed me to follow him. Anything to keep us together. It’s not like I would have a use for a degree once we got married. It was just something for me to do. Another way for me to look good to their friends.
