In the distance you could see the park. You could see your favorite bench that was under your favorite street light. On the bench was a large figure, hunched over. It's back was shaking just a bit and then you hear.... a sob.

The figure was wearing a very familiar cloak...

Your eyes widen a little. You stop about a yard away from the bench. This was obviously Cain, so.... why? Why was he so sad. You don't think you've ever heard him cry. He sobs had the same effects as your mother's... it pained you. You just didn't like it.

You slowly walk closer.

Suddenly, Cain springs up, aggressively grabbing you by the shoulders. He faces you. You couldn't see most of his face very well because the cloak blocked most of the light, but you could tell that he was upset.

"Hey." You say. The grip that he had in your shoulders tightens. "Don't be sad... it doesn't look pleasant..."

He chuckles bitterly.

"Is that so (Y/n)?" He growls.

You pat his shoulder. "Don't be so sad Cain."

Cain falls to his knees. He wraps his arms around you, his breathing becoming more even. You place your head on top of his. You rarely called Cain by his name. He asked you why once and you just shrugged.

"It's not the name you were born with...." You said. "I'd rather call you by your real name if you ever remember it..."

The times you did say his name was when he was stressed... which... was only once or twice since your meeting all those years ago. You did it to comfort him and because it was such a rare occurrence to call him by his name, it became something special to him. He was honored that someone who couldn't care less about anyone would care about him.

"Honestly... I though you forgot about me..."

You raise a brow. "We've went over this before. I wouldn't forget about you." You say, patting his head. "You and my

mother are literally the only people I could say I care about."

"Will you stay out here with me for a while then?" Cain asks. "You gave me a scare."

"Yah... sure."

Both you and Cain sat on the bench. It was right under a street light, yet it wasn't enough light to see his face. He always wore dark clothing and a long, hooded cloak. His hands were either covered with white gloves or black gloves and he never wore shorts or t-shirts. He would be in that getup all year round and you found it quite strange.

Even though you were curious about his face, you never asked to see it. You wouldn't dare ask about his personal life or about his appearance because you knew very well how it felt to hassled by such personal questions. There's probably a reason why he hasn't shown himself around you.... but you didn't want to pry. You would never... ever snoop around into Cain's business. That was also the same for your mother's business.

They're special.

"(Y/n)?" Cain mumbles.

You hum in acknowledgment.

"Why did you take so long to show up?" He asks.

"I met someone on my way here...." You sigh.

"Oh?"

"He's odd."

"He...?" Cain frowns. "How so?" Cain questions.

"I... I don't know...."

The house was quiet when you returned home. Everyone was most likely asleep. You made your way up stairs to your room, opening up your door to see to see a folded piece of paper on your bed. You remove your shoes and you put them by your door, walking over to your bed soon after. You pick up the note.

I hate u! I hate u! I hate u! I hate u!!!! I wish u were never born! The only reason u even E̷g̷g̷s̷i̷s̷t̷... ̷i̷g̷s̷i̷s̷t̷...

The only reason u r here is because mom was being a slut just like u. U both should go die!

The note was clearly written by your older brother. He probably shouldn't have written it in pen, because he made several errors. He couldn't even spell the word 'exist' right. You shake you head, feeling the need to grind your teeth. Even thought the note was terribly written, it still sparked something in you. His note didn't make feel okay... you could never just brush it off like you usually did. You didn't like feeling it, but it wouldn't go away.

He called your mother a slut...

The very woman that blessed him with the gift of life.

Your rip the note in half, tossing it in your pink trash bin and flopping down on your pink and purple comforter. Most of your room was a mix of light pink, lavender, and baby blue. They were all colors that would "suit a growing young lady" your mother's mother would say.

You furrow your brows.

Even with the note out of your sight, you still didn't feel okay. You began to think of things that would be socially unacceptable to think about.

'What would happen if I just went into his room and just....' You shake your head. You didn't even want to finish that thought.

You felt like you mother would somehow hear you and hate you forever for threatening her only son, but that note just... he said he wanted your mother to go die.

Just thinking about that rubbed you the wrong way. You thought about it just a little more. You wouldn't confront him about it, then he would know how to get under your skin. He would use the very woman that you loved against you and if he did that, you would be able to hold back those horrible thoughts.

Where they really that bad though. Not many people could say that they liked Cayden. Your father's bond with Cayden was slowly disappearing, and your grandfather... your grandfather hated everyone, but he hated your brother just a little bit more. He would often grumble throughout the day... mostly about you and your bother because your brother couldn't stop crying about you. He hated you both equally back then. After your brother grew out of that faze, your grandfather realized that you weren't really as bad as your brother made you seem. He probably wouldn't ever hear the words "I love you" come out of his mouth, but at least he doesn't glare at you the same way he glares at your brother.

Your grandfather is almost to the point of despising you brother. Your brother was so reckless and idiotic, yet he wants to own a multimillion dollar company.

In the end, your brother probably wouldn't receive the company. Your grandfather is still the owner and your father is just the CEO, you grandfather could replace your father if he wanted to. Your grandfather could also change who will inherit the company. He might just give it to your less successful uncle rather than you father.

You stare up at the ceiling. The company wasn't your main priority, your mother was. You would do a lot for her. You planned on saving up every coin in your piggy bank just so she can live a life of luxury. She could own expensive fur coats and sparkling jewels. Every tile she would step on would be made of pure marble and everything she eyed would instantly be hers and your brother wouldn't have a say in it because in your perfect world...

...he'd be dead.