Page 4 of Elemasters

“You literally just said you’d make out with my brother. My twin brother,”

“Because your twin brother cleans up shockingly well when properly managed,” she replied, carefully removing Dustin’s ponytail ring to let his long black hair fall to his shoulders, before she started to comb it out, “you, on the other hand? Lost cause,”

Chris clutched his chest like she’d physically wounded him and rolled his eyes.

“Uzai,” he muttered in Japanese.

“What did I tell you about insulting me in languages I don’t speak? If you wanna talk shit, either speak English or learn Cantonese,” Bailey reprimanded him as she put the finishing touches on Dustin’s hair.

“It means you’re annoying,” Chris fired back, “anyway. Bro, you look GOOD! You’ve gotta check yourself out,”

Dustin turned, half-expecting to feel ridiculous. But the second he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; messy hair falling just right, the sharpness of his jaw emphasized by the jacket’s collar, the sleek outline of his frame in all-black… he froze.

For a brief second, he didn’t see the quiet twin. He didn’t see the awkward kid who avoided his reflection.

He saw someone that looked an awful lot like his old self. The version that he’d tried so hard to kill and bury… and he actually didn’t hate it.

“…Holy shit,”

“See? Blondie was right, you look HOT!” Bailey beamed.

“I look like I’m gonna stab someone at a rave,”

“And that’s a bad thing? You act like you didn’t used to rock eyeliner and tight leather pants when we used to…”

“Anyway,” Chris abruptly cut in, hopping to his feet and slinging his own matching leather jacket over his shoulder, “we gotta bounce. If we’re not on the boat by seven, we’ll miss the tide window to get to the island without bottoming out. Get some pants on, I’ll get the speedboat keys from dad and meet you in the car in five,”

As Chris and Bailey left the room, Dustin decided to forgo his dresser where he kept his usual school clothes, and venture into his closet instead; that space full of the things he told himself he shouldn’t wear anymore. All the band tees, skinny jeans, and leather pants that hugged his figure and highlighted his assets (emphasis on the ass) in a way that “wasn’t appropriate for a boy”. But, if he was really supposed to be going all out, he figured dusting off the ripped leathers to match his jacket wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

Once he was finally fully dressed, he made his way downstairs to head to the family’s speedboat, but before he could make it out the door, he came face to face with his father who was coming in from the garage.

Elliot Ying was a mountain of a man; like a dragon in human form. He stood somewhere around 6’4, towering over both his 6ft sons like they were nothing, and constantly glaring down at Dustin with that unique and palpable combination of disdain and dismissal. His eyes raked over Dustin like knives across flesh, his mouth pressed into a thin line.

But Dustin knew how this was going to play out. While some parents would’ve launched into a speech about fashion choices, forced their child to change clothes, or even gotten violent with them… Dustin knew none of that was coming.

Instead, it was the silence; that ever-present lingering judgement that persisted even without words to give it shape.

Without missing a beat, his father disappeared into the kitchen, not offering so much as a “be safe”.

Typical. Predictable as the tide.

Once he was gone, Dustin took a moment and breathed deeply; he was doing this. He’d already committed, gotten all dressed up, and even let himself feel the tiniest bit of excitement. No one was going to ruin this moment for him.

He grabbed his converse from the shoe rack by the front door, and headed outside, leaving judgement and doubt behind him… at least for one night.

Riding with Chris was like playing Russian Roulette, but thankfully Dustin hadn’t been shot… not yet at least.

After the longest fifteen minutes of his life (mostly spent switching lanes with little regard, playing chicken with a railroad crossing, and nearly scaring a sweet little old lady out of her wheelchair while she was crossing the street) they finally arrived at the marina where the Ying family speedboat was kept.

“Thank god we made it in one piece” Bailey sighed from the backseat, gripping her seatbelt like her life depended on it… which honestly, it probably did.

“You guys are always bitching about my driving, but last time I checked we were still alive!” Chris replied with an eyeroll.

“Yeah… we only have to die once for it to stick bro,” Dustin said as he exited the car, “give me the speedboat keys, I’m not letting you sink us,”

Chris groaned but ultimately handed the keys over, and within a few minutes they were making their way across the water toward Tripoint Island. The fog parted in front of them like a veil being lifted as they approached, and they could feel the thumping bass and smell the smoke mixing with sea air before the silhouette of the island even came into full view.

Tripoint Island was aptly named for its striking shape; three jagged rocks the size of small hills were the first thing Dustin saw as they made their approach, followed by the orange glow of the blazing bonfire. He slowed the speedboat to a stop and dropped the anchor, and that was when that feeling settled in his stomach. That regret, twisting his gut into pretzels; telling him that he was a fucking idiot that was in over his head. That he should drop off Chris and Bailey and just head home.