I rolled my eyes as father started to nag at me from across the room. Mother wouldn't bother stopping the annoyance anyway. Instead, she joined in.

"Oh please, give me a break," I whined, picking up the broken vase from the floor.

I sensed Jerome laughing at the back and without missing a chance, I kicked his foot, as I proceeded to dispose the broken pieces of ceramic.

If it wasn't a normal day where Jerome, Jerich, Jeremy and I were playing soccer in the house and once again, we've broke mother's belonging. Well, thankfully it wasn't the television, if I were to talk about last year.

"Quit playing around, the four of you! You're all not kids anymore, remember that," father said, making the four of us sit on the couch, in embarassment.

"Right. I'm sorry I tagged along these immature people," I said.

"Jasmine, I expect more from you," father added, before leaving the room to let our mother continue with the lecture.

Jeremy's the oldest child. But being 23 was still a 'young' age for him and he still lived for his immature days. Believe it or not, he might possibly be the most immature one in the family.

Jerich on the other hand is a little geeky. He usually spends his time reading or playing video games. He's a little quieter than the rest and he'd be the last person for anyone to expect to do anything mischiveous.

Jerome's the child before me. Only a year older than me, but he had always had the mindset that he was better than me. He's a competetive one and he's the clown in the family. He gets into alot of trouble but still, my parents loved him the most.

And then there's me, Jasmine, the only daughter in the family. The one whose always getting picked on by the animals I call 'brothers'.

But despite our differences, we shared something in common and that was our interest and passion in soccer. At an early age, father signed us up for soccer matches and trainings and had us coached by him. I was an active kid growing up and that probably explained the long scar I have on my wrist, which I got from a soccer match, 13 years ago.

"Alright, I'm heading out. Any one of you would like to come along?" I asked, getting my car keys.

"I'm meeting my friends later on," Jeremy says, munching on his bag of potato chips.

"I'll be playing games," Jerich says, already making his way up to his room.

All eyes were on Jerome now, waiting for what kind of excuse he would come up with.

"I can't come," he says.

"Why? You're going for an interview because the president called and said that you're next in line?" I said sarcastically.

"No, but that would be cool. I actually have a date later on," he whispers, looking around the room for any sign of our parents.

"Oh my goodness," Jerich stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to look at Jerome.

Jeremy threw the bag of potato chips aside, as he leaned closer to Jerich with a puzzled look across his face.

"Are.. you serious?" I asked, stuttering my way.

"See for yourself if you don't believe me," Jerome says, putting up his phone, which displayed a photo of him and a beautiful lady beside him.

I turned my head to Jeremy and Jerich, who were just as shocked as I was.

"The end's near," Jerich added, before rushing off.

"Who could've resisted me right?" Jerome smirked.

"Oh god, stop it. It's making me sick," I said, before finally leaving the house and getting into my car.

It's ironic how my parents tells me to never meet up with strangers or people I barely talk to, but they had instructed me to fetch an old, childhood friend of mine whom I hadn't met for at least 12 years. Talking to him through the phone as years passed wasn't a great thing either, knowing that we were in different countries and our time zone were different. And not only that, he was one busy man.

I took my seat at the seats nearby the arrival gate and once they opened, with people flooding out, I stood up and made my way towards the crowded arrival hall.

It was quite some time before I finally spotted a tall man nearby, dressed in grey sweatpants and sweatshirt, with his bright blue luggage beside him, as he hopelessly looked around.

"Dele!" I screamed, as I lifted my legs and ran towards him. He reached both of his hands out and pulled me into a hug, lifiting me off the ground with his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

I buried my face into his shoulders, sinking my nose into the smell of cologne he had sprayed on.

"Look at you," he giggled, putting me down.

"No, look at you," I responded, with a slight laugh.

We stared at each other for a while, recognising how the both of us were no longer recognised as the mischiveous children who loved getting into trouble but instead, into two grown ups.

His eyes connected with mine, as I recalled the times we shared with each other during our younger years. The memories kept on flooding in my mind, as I reminded myself that the person infront of me was the same person who I used to grow up with.

"God, I've missed you so much," he says, as he pulled me into another hug, wrapping his arms around me, pushing me closer as I buried my face in his chest.