Goodbye, Let's Not Meet Again

From now on, I'm done wasting my time on any of them. The next day, I wrapped up all the paperwork at the office. On my way home, I found this massive bulldozer parked right in front of the house. It was revving up like it was about to flatten Bucky's little doghouse! I bolt forward to stop it, but I tripped over some rocks and hit the ground hard. My arm burned with pain; my skin was scraped raw and mixed with dirt, blood streaking down like some pathetic war paint. I remember a time when just a scratch from when I bumped into a random stranger would send Violet and Hazel into a frenzy, rushing me to the hospital for a full-body scan like I'd shattered every bone. Now? They just stood in the doorway with their blank faces staring at me. I forced myself up, dragging my beaten body to stand between the bulldozer and what was left of Bucky's home. That's when Callum looked at Bucky's little house, holding his nose and waving his hand like he was sniffing out garbage. "Anything from the dead belongs in the trash—especially if it's from a dead dog. Or don't you think that's a problem?" His smirk—that same damn look he had over a decade ago. Back then, when Dad died, I was so helpless I could only sleep by clutching his photo every night. But Callum saw his chance. While I wasn't looking, that asshole threw my dad's only photo into the septic tank and even had the nerve to laugh like a lunatic standing in front of me! "Miss your dad? Go fish his pic out! Dead folks' stuff are cursed. Your poor dad? Better off down there!" I ran crying to Mom for help, hoping for some sympathy. But instead—she tore into me for making a fuss and locked me up in a dark room for three days! That's how I got claustrophobic. When I snapped back to reality, I felt rage pounding through me as memories of old and new hatred flooded over me. Just as I raised my hand to shove Callum away, he stumbled and landed flat on the ground. Violet and Hazel rushed over instantly, practically tripping over each other to lift him up, inspecting his arms and ankles with a look of concern written all over their faces. The second she saw the tiny scratch on his hand, Hazel's eyes went red with vengeance. Never one to hold back, she stormed over and kicked me square to the chest, sending me to the ground. She glared down at me with a look that could cut glass. "Callum's your brother! How could you be this mean?! He was only trying to distract you from grieving over that damn dog, and you dare to raise a hand against him?" "It's just a dog, Henderson! You're not even worth one of Callum's fingers! Now, go apologize to him, or I'll make sure you regret it!" Violet just held Callum, calm as ever, not bothering to stop Hazel. But she stared at me with disappointment. "Look, it's just a doghouse, Henderson. So what if it's gone? Hell, if Callum wanted, we'd even tear this whole villa down and build something better!" Hearing that stung. Back when she built that little doghouse for Bucky, she joked that they'd keep it around for all of Bucky's future pups to have a place. And a few years later, when Grandma passed away and Mom dragged me to come back, Violet and Hazel bought this villa to convince me to stay. They said it'd be proof of our friendship—that it'd stay the same forever. But their idea of forever didn't last long. I tried to step past them just to grab Bucky's old toys. But Hazel blocked me, stepping right in my way. "Apologize to Callum first, or you're not getting a damn thing in there!" I'd lost Grandma, lost Bucky, and now the one thing left—just a few of his toys. Suddenly, Hazel slammed her foot into the back of my knee, forcing me to kneel. Before I knew it, my knees hit the ground hard. My manipulative stepbrother flashed me a smug grin for a moment, but as soon as he turned around, that damn innocent expression was back on his face. "Violet, it's so noisy and messy out here. Can we go inside now?"

Violet's cold expression softened into this way-too-sweet look. "Alright, does your hand still hurt? Wanna go to the hospital? Need to get it checked?" Hazel caught up, chiming in. "Callum, I heard you like roses. Once we clear this patch of land, I'll fill it up with a rose garden for you. Sound good?" There they were, doting on Callum like he was the center of their world. He glanced at me, raised a brow, and mouthed something. "Loser." Violet and Hazel? They completely forgot I'm allergic to pollen allergy. For over 10 years, every time flowers were about to bloom, they'd go around and clear every single flowering plant in my space. I just shut my eyes now and dragged myself over to Bucky's room. The place was a mess. Took forever, but I finally found his favorite pink ball. By then, it was dark. I went to the front door, pressed my fingerprint—and nothing happened. That's when it hit me: someone had erased my access. Even the passcode was changed. So, I called Violet. No answer. Called Hazel. Same deal. Thought about crashing at a hotel, but my phone was dying, and the closest one was miles away. Then, because fate's got a sense of humor, the rain started. First, a drizzle. Then it just poured down. My clothes got soaked, and the cuts on my arm stung like hell. I curled up there, shivering. Finally, right as dawn started creeping in, the front door cracked open. Violet tiptoed out. Her eyes landed on me—curled up in a ball—and for a second, I thought I saw pity. But just as fast, her face twisted with disgust. "Well, Henderson, look at you. Out all night?" "What's this, some sad attempt to get our attention? Grow up, would you?" My head felt heavy as I stared at her, barely recognizing her. "I didn't… Someone deleted my fingerprint and changed the code. I tried calling. No one answered. I wasn't trying to stay out." Violet rubbed her forehead, looking a little guilty. "Callum was worried about the workers, so he changed the code." "Go on, get inside." I nodded, forced myself up, numb and aching, and headed in. But just as I was almost in, she called out, "Henderson, we didn't mean it!" She paused, then added, "But be quiet. Callum was up late. Don't wake him." Something twisted inside me, but I just nodded. Then she stopped me again, her face a mix of confusion and surprise. "Henderson, aren't you gonna make a fuss? That's not like you…" I forced a bitter smile and looked down. Only people who know they are cared for get to act entitled, knowing someone will take it. That used to be me—taking up space, claiming my spot. But now, who was I even fighting for? Ignoring the ache in my bones, I dragged myself to bed and let sleep take me. Somewhere between sleep and waking, loud music and voices drifted in. The next thing I knew, Callum was barging into my room and yanking my blanket off. "Hey, dumbass! Get up! We're celebrating my friendship with Violet and Hazel for 20 days!" 20 days, huh? Guess 20 days were long enough to wipe out our 20 years...

My head was pounding, so I just pulled my hand back and knocked out cold. No clue how long I was out when suddenly I heard this loud shout. I jerked awake, heart racing, and Callum was standing over my computer, looking at me with this fake apology crap. "Hey, Violet said their old photos were saved here. She gave me the password and told me to come and check them myself." Look, me and the Harland sisters? No secrets, not one. We've shared the same password for everything since we were kids, even for bank accounts. But now? They just handed it to my stepbrother, letting him dig around in my stuff. "But, uh… there's a problem. I think the computer's got a virus, like, everything's gone! I was freaking out and trying to restart it, but I... I accidentally spilled water all over it." He kept saying sorry, but the look in his eyes? Total smugness, and maybe even a little daring. That computer had years of my research, all my data—stuff I've put blood, sweat, and tears into—and just like that, it hit me, and my sleepiness was gone. I jumped up, pushed Callum aside, and went straight for the computer to see if there was anything I could save. But the whole thing looked like it had been dunked in water, sparks still popping out of the circuit board. The whole computer? Done. Fried. "Who the hell said you could touch my computer?" Callum stumbled back, hitting the edge of the desk, rubbing his head, and putting on this hurt, offended look like I'd actually done something to him. "Bro, I didn't mean to! I'm really sorry. Just... Just hit me, punish me, whatever you want!" Right then, the door swung open, and the Harland sisters were standing in the doorway. "We did!" Violet and Hazel rushed over, and in seconds, they were by his side, checking him over if he had injuries. "Bro, I just wanted to see some of Violet and Hazel's old photos…" "Are you seriously still mad about stuff that happened back when we were kids? I was just a stupid kid back then—I've grown up. Can't you let it go?" Violet's face darkened, and her lips pressed tight. "Henderson, can't you stop hanging on to old crap?" "Back then, Callum was just a kid. Kids don't mean harm, but you're the one stuck on it, holding a grudge all these years!" "Doesn't matter—Callum's your brother. Act like it. You look ridiculous!" And these were the same people who used to swear they'd have my back if I ever came face to face with Callum and his dad. Now? They're on his side, against me. They knew my deepest scars, yet they didn't hesitate to tear me open right where it hurts most. "Violet, I'm feeling a bit dizzy…" Callum leaned on Violet's shoulder. Violet's all concerned, holding him up. "Let's get you to the hospital now!" And with that, she helped him out the door, practically dragging him. The whole room was trashed, and Hazel stared at me, frowning, gripping my arm hard. "Hey, look, we've given you over 20 years of love and loyalty. Why can't you let us care a bit about Callum, too?" "Are you that jealous? Always wanting to take what's his?" Take? Callum's dad stole my mom's love from my dad, then Callum stole my mother's love from me, and now he's snatched away the Harland sisters' affection. I've never had anything—what the hell is there for me to take?

Hazel's grip on my arm made my wound reopen. Blood slowly seeped through my sleeve, staining my pajamas red. But she acted like she didn't even notice. "That computer... That computer had five years' worth of my data and research—all the work I've poured into it! And he just destroyed everything! It's... it's all gone!" I was so upset that I was shaking all over, and my voice was as cold as ice in the dead of winter. "That's basically my life, and it's gone! All I'm asking for is an apology. Is that really too much to ask?" But instead of understanding, Hazel just glared at me, her face full of fury. "So what if it's a few research files? What, you think you're going to become some big-shot scientist? Oh, give me a break!" "And you hurt Callum on purpose—he's been nice enough not to demand an apology from you!" "Henderson, come on, you're his brother. Act like it for once and stop being so damn petty!" And with that, she didn't spare me a single glance before running out after Callum and her sister. I felt the blood trickling down my arm, dripping onto the floor and staining it with dark red blossoms. She actually expected me to apologize to him. He used my computer without my permission, and now I, the one who got screwed over, am supposed to say sorry?! Damn. That hurt my chest like hell. But screw it. I might as well just start picking up the wreck that bastard left behind. I couldn't help but look up at the calendar on the wall—only five more days until I'm out of here. Damn. This feels like the longest week of my life! That night, as I was packing, I got a call from an unknown number. A clear, calm voice came through the line. "Hi. This is Verity Albright, the project lead. You have six days left. Use the time to say your goodbyes. If anything comes up, call me." "Yeah, alright. I'll be ready to go on time." At some point, Violet and Hazel came back without me realizing. They overheard me saying "go," which got their attention. "Where are you going?" I kept my voice steady. "Just a business trip." Their minds were clearly on Callum now, so my vague answer didn't bother them in the least. They used to worry every time I went on a trip—always anxious that I'd have trouble eating or sleeping while I was gone. One of them would even usually clear their schedule to tag along. Now, all I got was a quick, disinterested nod. "Callum's feeling really sorry about today. You should try to comfort him when you get the chance." I'd already lost count of how many times they'd disappointed me, but somehow, it still hurt every damn time. I pulled out our childhood photo albums, every picture with the dates and memories I'd carefully written down. Back then, I thought one day we'd look back at them together when we were older. Now they just felt like a bad joke. One by one, I just threw them all into the fire. Day 3 of the countdown. I went to the rooftop restaurant downtown. On my 18th birthday, the Harland sisters set up a fireworks show that lit up the whole city, making sure everyone knew I was under their protection and that nobody could mess with me. That night, they competed over who could pile more food onto my plate, stacking gifts in front of me until I could barely see over them. I'd never smiled so wide in my life. Tonight, I ordered the same dishes, but everything tasted bitter. Day 2 of the countdown. I went back to the amusement park. The day Dad suddenly jumped from that rooftop, my mother didn't waste a second. She had him cremated the same day and walked straight out with the death certificate to marry Callum's father.

I hadn't slept for nights then, so Violet and Hazel took me to the Ferris wheel. They told me this was as close to heaven as I could get—that if I talked here, Dad would hear every word. "Dad, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself, and I'll make you proud!" Back home, I tossed everything I wasn't taking with me and filled up the trash bins. I looked around my empty room, sighing. My last day there happened to be the anniversary of Dad's death. Early that morning, I saw Violet and Hazel, all dressed and ready, waiting downstairs with bouquets. They'd never missed this day. No matter what, they'd always come with me to Dad's grave. "Henderson, we'll go with you to visit your dad today." I didn't want any fights, so I just nodded and got ready to go. But then, right as I was about to get in the front seat, Violet put out a hand. "Maybe you should sit in the back. You know, safer that way." I'd already seen it—the [Prince Callum's Throne] sign stuck right on the backrest of the seat that used to be mine. But I kept my mouth shut and just climbed into the back seat. Violet gave me a weird look a few times. "What's with you today? You're acting…different." Yeah, I wasn't picking another fight with her over their obvious bias. I just closed my eyes, ignoring their occasional side glances. Midway there, Hazel's phone rang—it was Callum. "Hazel, it's my parents' wedding anniversary today. They'd love to see you guys. You free?" The second she hung up, she and Violet exchanged a glance and turned to me. "Hey, Callum needs us for something. How about you go ahead? We'll catch up later." My mom and Callum's dad's wedding anniversary—it's my dad's death anniversary! Violet and Hazel used to complain about it with me, and now they couldn't ditch me fast enough to party. Wow, just when I thought this couldn't be more messed up! In the end, I could only nod and get out of the car with the bouquets. The second I hit the sidewalk, they sped off without a look back. At Dad's grave, I made my goodbyes, and then I went home, grabbed my suitcase, and stepped out of the villa. "Violet, Hazel, wish you three the best. Here's to never crossing paths again!"