People are like onions. You don't know how good they are until you peel all the layers off.

-THEO

Caleb Parks' POV

"Let's try this again. Five, six, seven, eight..." I count off.

The background dancers and I start the routine to one of my songs.

I have a radio interview in an hour. In a few weeks, I'll be off to Mexico. I decided to have some practice done.

"We did good, guys. I'll see you all tomorrow, alright?" I smile and wave goodbye as we finish the routine. They begin to pack up their stuff and leave.

I use the bathroom nearby and change into a green hoodie, denim jeans and a simple converse.

"Are you ready to go?"

Marci pushes her back off the wall. We leave the dance hall and head up to Marcel's office.

"You're awfully quiet," I point out as we round the corridor and enter the elevator.

She shrugs, "I just miss Taryn. I guess, no one to talk to."

"Did you know that your brother is so freaking hot! I can't wait till we meet. We fall in love, get married, have seven kids and get a pet rabbit?" I say in a very high-pitched voice.

"I will be a good aunt to all those kids," She bumps shoulders with me as she lets out a snicker.

"But seriously though, I need a new girlfriend. Gail is not an option."

"I thought you had a bunch of friends at school."

"Well yeah, but they can't obviously come home with me," The elevator doors open, and we walk out, "No offence, but if they find out that I live with you, I'll have more fake friends than all the fake body parts that the patients in botched have."

"Who says it would get to that extent?"

She answered my rhetorical question with a are you serious look?

We walk into Marcel's office to see Abigail sitting at his desk, her feet up and a stoic expression mars her face. Her loose black locks are in a bun, and I see her playing with a bubbler in one of her hands.

Surprising this is a pose I always thought that Marci would do one day, but it appears that our younger sister has beat her to it.

"Siblings, I have a proposition. Please have a seat." She directs at us.

"Are we on the right floor?" Marci says in a whisper.

I look around the room, and sure enough, the awards and albums which decorate the walls are in place. "Right room, wrong occupant."

Marci and I take unhurried steps and move towards the seats in front of the desk.

Once we settle onto the seats, Gail drops her legs from the desk and slams her hand on the desk; she stands to her full height and observes us with narrowed eyes.

I think she is trying to immediate us, but heaven knows that her plans are going south. The laughter that threatens to spill from me does not go unnoticed by our little dictator.

"I only have one demand." She begins.

"Is it to borrow some height? Because hon, you sure need it." Marci plays with her nails which spikes some irritation in Abigail.

"I know I don't always get a say, but you are never too small to make big demands." She begins but is cut short by Marci.

"Or make bigger fantasies." Marci snorts; her sarcasm has become way more rampant than usual. Ever since we got back from the Bahamas.

"Marcella, with all due respect, your bitchiness should take a hike," She juts out her thumb and points it behind her, "All I'm asking is that you hear me out." Her expression turns back to neutral.

I feel my jaw drop; when did sweet little Abigail learn the word bitch?

"Okay, squirt, let it out," Marci smirks.

If you haven't observed. Gail hates it when we make fun of her height. Not that I would blame her, her head is on the same line as my waist.

In one swift movement, Gail undoes the bun on her head, "Just forget it; all I wanted was to ask of you guys to include me in whatever it is you guys do." Her face goes sour, "But I see that even my brother has bigger fish to take care of than his own sister." She spits at me.

"Gail." I shot up from my seat with a look of disbelief on my face.

Her face broke down, and she ran out of the room before I could reach for her across the table.

"I hate to be Captain Obvious, but I think Gail feels that we make her feel left out," Marci said as I slumped back into my seat.

One thing that I have tried to avoid is making Gail feel that way. Sure we may not be blood, but when the only thing, or should I say a person that relates to the few people that care about you, pissing them off is not something you would want to do intentionally.

"So that did not go according to plan," Jacob says as he and Shawn walk out of a door where Marcel goes to handle some business.

"What are you two talking about?" I inquire.

"Well, Abigail was gazing longingly at one photo of you three," Jacob points at us, "From nowhere, she decides that she wants to play office while we wait for you to finish up practice."

"Meanwhile, Marcel said we should head on to the radio station. Your interview is about to start." Shawn pipes up.

"Do you want to talk to her, or should I?" Marci says as she glances towards the door, where Gail ran through minutes ago.

I looked down at my watch and realized that if I wanted to heart-to-heart with Gail. It was going to have to wait till after the radio interview.

"You do it; I'll talk to her after the interview."

We all walked out of the office. Marci and Shawn went off to find Gail while Jacob and I went to the radio station.

As usual, the battle with the press was lightly brutal; I think I almost lost my underwear out there. After the struggle, Jacob and I get into the limousine and drive off. His obligation to be the Edd of the cul-de-sac made him stop the limousine before we even left to pick up a girl's number.

Shortly after we make it to the station in record time, Jack quickly grills me on what to expect while some other people try to fix my rumpled clothes.

The interview went the usual way. The only slight difference is that the anchors kept on, poking into my non-existent love life and my family background. I was so close to blowing up, but the slightly stern yet apologetic face that Marcel shot my way through the glass was enough for me to remember to keep my cool.

Obviously, we couldn't take them back off because they are just doing their jobs, but if one more person asks about my birth parents, one more time...

"You okay, boy?" Marcel asks as we make our way back to the penthouse.

"Yea. I'm just thinking," I shuffle in my seat to get comfortable. Miami traffic is just as horrible as it usually is, so apparently, Jacob and Jack decided to make a pitstop. Leaving Shawn, who has his, nose stuck in a book, the privacy glass was up, only me and Marcel.

"Marcel, how exactly did you handle Marci when she was growing up?" I avoid eye contact; this man can read many things in one statement. I sometimes see him as the human version of a bloodthirsty hound.

"Depends what part of her growing up we are talking about?"

"The part where your wife moved out,"

Marcel slumps on his seat, visibly tired. Although Marcel and his wife have this, lovely TV family life going on. Some emotions get cut up, and someone always ends up hurt.

Apparently, the Wellingtons split up when Marci was still in middle school, and no child wanted to come back home and meet an empty house with a cold Dad. I was more than happy to allow Marci to live with me.

No matter how much they loved each other, Mrs W was not ready to try again. But whenever they had to meet up concerning Marci, that secluded room in Marcel's office was always convenient

"If I were, to be honest. I never did have that talk with Marci." He gives me a straight look, but the hurt in his eyes is not invisible, "As a smart girl, she understood that we had overstayed our welcome in the marriage. So she decided to pretend that her parents are still okay, maybe for her sanity. Is Abigail troubling you again about your parents?"

See what I mean, a bloodthirsty hound.

"Actually, she feels left out. She even put up a front to talk to Marci and me about it. But Marci took it all as a joke. I had to hurry for the interview, so I never had the chance to talk to her about it."

Marcel pats my knee, "Seems like the girls in our lives have our work cut out for us."

I chuckle, "More than we know."

The Limousine rolls to a stop in front of the penthouse's building. Shawn drops the book he was reading and steps out of the limousine. He begins pushing the men and women with their flashy cameras out of the way so that Marcel and I can make a beeline for the elevator.

Shawn slips in, nearly closing his hand shut after Marcel and I get in. I am hunched back with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

"Don't these people ever sleep?" I huff.

Marcel leans to the side, clearly exhausted, "It's like asking if teenagers can stay off that phone."

"Um, guys..." We turn our attention to reserved Shawn, "In my opinion, you guys should hatch out your issues with the girls. It will save a lot of trouble as things go on. Also, Marcel, you might wanna have that room in your office checked out. The spider's webs have turned light yellow and are all over the place."

Marcel was saved by his complexion. As we went up, my laughter and his muttering about getting a lock filled the space of the elevator.

We walked into the penthouse when the doors opened; the sight that greeted me warmed my heart.

Marci was painting Abigail's nails both their toes had some white stuff on each toe, and don't get me started on what was on Marci's face.

"Marcella Freya Wellington, what in the name of Davy Jones' locker are you wearing?!"

I sometimes feel that Marcel wraps some invisible cloak around himself every time he walks in here. I mean, I know it's for Abigail's sake. A few years ago, on Christmas eve, he came over. And he met Nate and Marci snuggling on the couch. All I can say is Taryn has a tough nut to crack the door, which I still appreciate to this day. It saved me a trip to the cemetery to bury a ginger-haired boy.

"It's just makeup." Marci tries to play it off, but Marcel is not having it. Yes, she is his baby girl, but only if he knew about the addition to her stuffed toys. He would have been the logo of the tomato aisle in Walmart.

Marcel succeeded in dragging Marci out of the room; in a bid to wash off the makeup and put her innocence back on.

I stifle my laughter when Marci mouths, "help me". While I mouth back, "good luck". Then she gave me a colourful gesture. Her black boots tried to keep up with Marcel's long but angry strides.

I plop down on the couch. And feel the coldness that radiates off Gail as she moves away from me.

"I like your nails." I glance down at her black and pink striped nails.

"Thanks. Marci said this is what the girls and her do to have fun."

"Oh yea," I move closer "Do you know what brothers and sisters do together to have fun."

I launch at her and begin tickling her, "We make each other laugh till our lungs stop."

"Caleb Caleb!" She squeals as she tries to move out of my grip on her hands. I hold her down with one and continue to tickle her with my other hand.

"Now, Gail. If you want me to release you, say that Caleb is the coolest brother ever," I grin. I stop tickling her for a second to allow her to catch her breath, just long enough for her to say it.

"Caleb is a Daffy." She says as she tries in vain to get away.

I tsk, "Dear sister, that was not my request, seems like I have to up my game." I go in for another round of tickling.

After a few minutes, I released my hold on her, "Fine. Caleb is the coolest brother in the whole world." She says with exasperation.

I give her a satisfied grin, "Good."

I release her and pull her onto my lap.

"What's this about Gail? Why do you feel left out all of a sudden?"

She purposely avoids my serious gaze, "Well... after we got back, neither you nor Marci have spent time with me. It's always one thing or the other..."

"Do you think we're too busy to remember we have a sister?" I cock my head to observe her. She reaches her arms out and adjusts my head, I cock it again, and she tries to fix it. I do it again, and she bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Kind of. It's been long since we three hung out." She says after she sobers up.

I pull her into a tight hug, and she rests her head on my shoulder, "You know I love you?" She nods to my shoulder.

I release her slightly to look at her, "Then do your best to please remember that, no matter how busy I am, I will always have time for you, Okay?"

She nods and hugs me again.

Jacob and Jack walk in; red lipstick mars Jacob's face while Jack looks more sober than usual.

"I'm guessing your pitstop was a success," I observe Ed and Edd.

Jacob sighs, "It would have been better if our temporary nun could keep up with a decent conversation." He glares at Jack.

Marci and Marcel walk back with grim looks on their faces. Marci's face is cleaner than cotton.

"So to the matter at hand, we need a new sitter." Marcel glances around the room, probably to ensure we are all here.

"Second, I need a new woman to work my charm on," Jacob says.

Marci walks closer to him and elbows him in the stomach, "It's times like this that I can't help but wonder if you will ever get married."

Jack slaps a hand on her mouth and glances at Marcel, "Do not say the M-word." He warned with a frantic expression on his face.

"Last time I checked both of our names," He motions to his daughter and himself, "begin with M."

He then glares at Jack, specifically on his hand on Marci's mouth, "Get your mitts off my daughter. Unless we will have two rooms in this house that have resembled a crime scene! And this time, there will be a casualty."

"Anyway," We turn our attention towards Shawn, "How about we get that girl to come and take care of Gail and the orphanage? Frankly, I don't enjoy spending my afternoons with grumpy children." He shudders.

"What girl are we talking about?" Jacob asks, glancing around, "Is she a good lay?" His expression turns into a wolfish grin.

"What's her name?" Marcel asks.

Jack holds up his phone, "Peyton Griffin, second and last child of the Griffin family. Father is Troy Griffin, and the mother is unknown," Jack scrunches his face in confusion.

"Isn't that the girl that Shane said was a good sitter? The one we left Gail with back in the Bahamas?" Marci asks for clarification.

I nod stiffly, "Yes, how do you know her?" I look at Jack. If memory serves me right, Jack didn't enter that shop with us.

"Do you think I could stay that long in the bar without getting drunk and joining in on my people?" He refers to Shane and Jacob.

"I guess Taryn did make you become a virgin again." Marcel grins, "Good, maybe next time you will put a ring on that finger."

Jack snorts, "So can we get this Peyton girl over here because I am not spending another afternoon fighting off those kids again?" says Jacob.

"Depends; what do you say, Caleb?"

I look around and see that this may be a good idea. I can't trust her. And she is clearly not a fan of mine, but she took care of Gail; she looks semi-responsible. If it means that things will be easier to run around here, I'm willing to gamble.

"Fine, we'll call her." I agree.

"Good. We're going to have dinner with my mom. Don't wait up," Marci kisses my cheek and walks out of the room and towards the elevator.

Marcel obviously grimaces and follows his daughter out. Jack walks forward to the computer at the corner of the room, most likely to call Peyton. Shawn goes up the stairs to probably finish his book, leaving me with Jacob.

"So, on a scale of one to ten, just how hot is this girl?" Jacob asks.

"Hot enough for you to know that you will get burned, and I don't mean with the usual hand prints you usually get."

That voice was not from Jack or me. I focus on the computer, and a grinning Shane pops on the screen.

"I thought you said that you were going to contact her?" I quirk a brow towards my best friend.

"Yes. But Shane, why are you with her phone?" We turn to face the grinning China man.

"She is with me. Oh, Peyton," He turns his head a bit to shout her name, meaning she must be nearby; "You have a phone call with three hot idiots."

"If you weren't one, I would have bothered." A snarky remark can be heard as the brunette with blonde tips comes into view.

"Well, that was fast. I thought a millennium was more than a couple of days," Her gaze lingers on me before taking note of Jack and Jacob.

"So she's more of a three." Jacob rolls his eyes and leaves.

"Peyton, right?" Jack asks to clarify as she nods, "We have a favour to ask of you."

"Sure, what is it?"

"We need you to come to Miami for a couple of months." He begins, "We need a new babysitter on short notice."

She lets out a breathy chuckle, "Nice joke. What are you really calling for?" Her face goes serious in seconds.

"That's about it. Abigail's normal sitter is busy, so we need someone to help us with her."

Sure we won't be this desperate, but none of us knows how to handle my angel-like sister; even Marci is clueless.

"Thank you but no thanks." She moves to end the call, but I stop her.

"Wait," I turned to Jack, "Can you give us a minute?" He nods and leaves.

"I know you don't like me, and I hardly know who you are, but we need this. After some months, you're free to leave. And that millennium can pass over as you want. What'd ya say?" I ask with hope.

"You know you're draining my phone battery. Right?" She looks at me like I'm below her, irking me.

"Who do you think you are?! I'm just asking for a favour; no need to act like the evil queen about it." I scoff at her sudden attitude change.

Seriously I really thought she would have considered it.

"First of all, you need me, I don't need you, and second of all...."

"Sorry to interrupt," Shane says as he butts in and looks from me to her, "But if I am right like I always am. You both need each other. Caleb, are you willing to pay her?"

I nodded grudgingly. All she does has to have money involved in it, "Can you not act like a bitch about it? It's just a few months, and you and I know you have to be out of town for a while." They both share a knowing look, and she sighs.

"So, do we have a deal?" Shane asks.

"When do I come?"

"Does tomorrow work?" Shane glances at the two of us as we nod, "Perfect. See you tomorrow, Caleb." He shines his pearly whites before he ends the call.

This might either be a bad idea or the worst decision of my life.