Weekend came and went. Cas did his shifts at the restaurant, eating as much as he could during his breaks before heading home. Now that it was assumed he never attended the competition, the atmosphere slowly shifted to what it was before. Almost. The monotony of chores, the twins’ extracurriculars taking over their hours during the new semester became routine once more. Alexander began preparation for the solo performance, despite no updates yet from the institute.

Johan, however, did not miss a chance to impose Cas with more work than necessary. Suddenly his dress shirts were not lined correctly, the reading assignments which he’d always enjoyed he no longer had time to do, and the high level of cleanliness in his room was broken. 

His usual stoic mannerisms were now not without a touch of hatred whenever he and Cas crossed paths, that the latter didn’t dare provoke. It was Alexander’s latest amusement and fascination, to see that his sensible twin possessed such a side to him. When things became bad, he drew up the memory of the performance, remembering what he’d been working on, that the night hadn’t merely been his imagination.

One afternoon, the twins had returned from their weekly badminton session. Cas had taken their sportswear to wash, when Johan stormed into the laundry room. Despite this, his voice was a deadly calm. 

‘Where is it?’ 

Not waiting for a response, Johan stepped closer. ‘The first edition of Dorian Gray. Where is it?’ 

‘What are you talking about? I’ve never seen—’

‘No one else goes into my room except you. My uncle sent it from the States. If anything happens to it…’ Johan’s gaze seemed to burn. Cas didn’t speak, the knowing only buried under silence. 

‘Is the restaurant not paying you enough? Hence you resort to stealing my book.’ 

‘I didn’t do it.’  Cas tried to sound firm, but there was nothing to be done if Johan decided to take it up to Silas. With or without proof, it didn’t matter. 

‘Fine. I’ll just have to check myself.’ 

Johan turned away and immediately headed to the top floor. Cas quickly followed, only to see him tearing open the drawers, tipping and discarding them callously. When that wasn’t enough, Johan raked through the shelves, leaving nothing unscathed. 

‘I told you I didn’t steal anything,’ Cas said desperately. 'Stop. Please.’

Alexander had appeared at the door, a towel around his neck. He crossed his arms, watching the scene. 

Just when Cas was about to speak again, Johan snatched his school satchel. With one swift move, the contents spilled onto the floor. A book he didn’t recognise fell among his things, making him stop short.

‘That’s not…’ Cas’ mouth went dry. ‘I don’t know how that got there.’ He immediately turned to Alexander, who was leaning against the doorframe. His expression betrayed nothing, but there was no mistaking the glint of pleasure in his eyes. 

Johan slowly picked up the hardback. 

‘It was in your bag. You’re still denying it?’ 

‘You can’t truly believe I’ve stolen this from you,’ Cas said. His voice became quiet. ‘You know it wasn’t my doing—’

The slap stung Cas’ face before he could finish. The gesture overwhelmed him, simply because it came from Johan, who had never laid a hand on him all these years. 

‘I’ve had enough of your lies,’ Johan said. ‘You’re accusing Xander even when it’s clear what this is.’ 

Cas didn’t speak. It wasn’t as if this was the first time, but there was a heaviness in his chest that hadn’t been there before. 

‘A worthy attempt to get back at me for destroying your manuscripts, but I will make sure you regret today.’ 

Without another word, Johan left. Alexander followed close behind, consoling his brother loudly, his words saturated with sympathy. 

Cas reorganised the room, trying to ignore the cut on his lip as he focused on the task. As the days passed, it was harder to accept that things between him and Johan would always be like this now. As he replaced the items back in the drawers, Cas spotted a cream handkerchief lying crumpled nearby. The material was soft, and his fingers traced the corner where he remembered the hand stitched letters to be. J.C. Johan Cruz. 

Seeing this, a vivid memory suddenly came to mind.