Thank you for 100 followers, 83K reads, and 3000 votes!!

So I wasn't planning on updating today because I'm sick and have been feeling like shit because of more hate comments.

I know my writing is not perfect and neither is my story. There will be things some people like that others do not. But my comment section is supposed to be a safe, positive space not only for readers but also myself.

Seeing comments is one of my absolute favorite parts of writing on here. I welcome with open arms: reaction comments, comments that point out grammar and spelling mistakes, plot holes that I may have missed, or literally anything that just simply is not mean. I am writing this story because I enjoy it and know many others do as well. I wont let haters ruin that.

This is the last time I will be bringing this up.

Also, I'd like to thank a couple of readers who were defending me against some hate comments. You all are literally the best and just know that you all are the reason I even feel up for updating right now :)

I buried my head into the boy, resting my forehead on his shoulder, "Thank you. Seriously thank you so much," I whispered. "I couldn't have done any of this without you, I owe you so much."

"You owe me nothing, just being like this with me is enough," Lucas cooed.

I basked in Lucas' arms for another couple of seconds before we separated. I whipped my head around to see the people in the stands going wild. Although many were surprised to see the Russian siblings lose, they were still cheering at the impressive feat.

"Ladies and gentlemen!!" The announcer practically screamed into the microphone, "Kai and Lucas have just made history as the youngest winners of Doubles!!"

The announcer continued to yell in excitement, finishing his statements as the crowd began to trickle out of the concrete stadium. Lucas and I both left before he finished talking, heading back to our fight room to change.

Once in the fight room, I threw on a plain black tee while Lucas put on a white one.

I was slouched against the couch on my phone. Lucas and I had posted pictures with each other on Instagram to celebrate our win. Normally I would be overthinking about people's reactions to my scars, but instead, I felt satisfied, a feeling of fulfillment flowing through my head. I was one step closer to finally getting my revenge, and that feeling overwhelmed any sense of insecurity in my mind.

"Hello? This is Miguel Ferreira and I am here to interview Kai Yoon and Lucas Beck," the voice followed a loud knock at the door.

I walked toward the door and opened it, making eye contact with the same tanned man in a grey suit who had interviewed us last time and ultimately ended up getting hit on the head by his director.

"Right... Hi," I gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"If you two could just follow me, there is another room prepared," Miguel spoke, reaching out to shake my hand.

I looked back at Lucas who gave me a nod and then stood up. We followed Miguel down the hall and past the entrance of the pit. We took two lefts and then a right, bringing us to a red wooden door. The room was well lit with professional lights all around.

On the back wall was a green screen background with three couch chairs in front of it. Two were next to each other and slightly angled toward the other grey chair while still facing the ginormous cameras.

The crew all greeted us, Lucas and I gave small hello's as we took a seat. I moved around trying to get comfortable, the bright white lights shining in my eyes were practically blinding.

Miguel then took the remaining seat that was opposite of Lucas and mine. He had a couple of index cards in his hand that he was going over as the cameramen finished setting up.

Lucas fidgeted in his chair, unsure of what to do in the awkward silence.

"Okay," Miguel spoke, placing his notes under his chair and out of the camera's view. "I'll mostly just be asking about your fight tonight and how you two prepared for it. The interview will be longer than the last one since this was the Championship match."

Lucas and I nodded our heads as he continued to speak. Miguel leaned in slightly, Lucas and I giving each other questioning glances and then doing the same.

Miguel spoke in a hushed voice so no one besides the three of us could hear, "There have been some rumors going around on social media that you rejected Mr. Song's daughter because you're gay," I clenched my jaw at his words. "I would like to bring this up in the interview. You can also use it as an opportunity to clear up any misunderstandings your fans might have."

Lucas stiffened next to me and my right eye began to twitch, but the oblivious Miguel decided to keep going, "Also, I plan to ask you about all the scars," Miguel rubbed his chin in wonder as his eyes lingered on the ceiling, deep in thought. "I'm super curious about them, so I'm sure others are as well. Anyway," he shook his head and looked at me, "it's these kinds of questions that make an interview interesting and draw in viewers." Miguel had a conniving smile.

I looked into his eyes, visibility agitated. My right arm lurched out and tightly grabbed his collar, pulling him close and whispering in his ear, "If you bring up either of those things during this interview then you might as well hop on the ambulance that's taking Viktor and Nadia to the hospital because you'll need it just as much as they do," I seethed.

I roughly shoved Miguel into the back of his chair releasing his now slightly crumpled dress shirt. His eyes were wide with alarm, looking to Lucas just to see that he was also smirking, pleased with how I handled the situation.

"You're not a fucking tabloid writer, keep in mind the kind of people you're dealing with and then ask yourself, 'do I really want to get on their bad side,'" Lucas glared.

"No," Miguel squicked, "I do not," his voice cracked.

"Good. Just stick to the questions given to you by the director and we'll have no problems, yeah?" Lucas tilted his head to the side innocently even though his words were full of warning.

"Yes," Miguel audibly gulped.

I turned my head to the side and noticed that several crew members were staring, but when I looked at them they all went back to what they were doing, unbothered by how we treated Miguel. He is a bit of a snake so I wouldn't be surprised if some of the staff members didn't like him either. They all chose to pretend like nothing happened.

"We go live in one minute!" A guy with a hefty headset yelled to the staff who then all ran to their places, making last-minute checks.

A boom mic loomed overhead and Miguel straightened himself out, plastering a fake smile on his face.

I looked right past the camera and a man began to countdown from five on his fingers. He threw a thumbs up, queuing Miguel to start speaking.

"Hello everyone, I am Miguel Ferreira and today I am here with Lucas Beck and Kai Yoon, the winners of this year's Doubles tournament," Miguel turned away from the camera slightly and looked at us. "Last time you told us that you always observe your opponents and create a strategy best suited to defeating them. Could you tell us a bit about your thought process that led to today's results?"

Lucas explained our strategy, describing Nadia and Viktor's fighting styles as well as how we choose to approach them.

Miguel continued to the next question, "Today's fight was quite the spectacle, I'm sure many people were expecting a lot of blood to be shed on both sides. Some were slightly disappointed to have simply seen a couple of boys running around. A lot of people on social media are calling your strategy cowardly. How do you feel about this?"

Ugh, I want to slap Miguel so badly. Why does he do this every single time?

"Honestly, it doesn't matter to us at all if people call us cowardly. So what if I ran around a bit? It is even more cowardly to not back down when you know you cannot win. If I had approached him directly then I'd have a hole in my face, I'd choose winning over looking cool any day. This is a fight club, every time I fight I am taking a risk of being seriously injured. Why would I purposely get myself hurt when there's a much better option that leads to winning?" I replied, raising an eyebrow.

"That is a very good point," Miguel remarked, trying to hide his annoyance toward my reply. I think Miguel was able to sense that he wouldn't be able to get any juicy gossip out of us, so the rest of the interview went relatively smoothly.

We ended it with ease, thanking everyone in the room as we left. Lucas and I quickly grabbed our stuff from the fight room and made our way to his car. I jumped into the passenger's side with a huff, "Well shit."

"I know, I can't believe we actually did that!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Me neither," I smiled.

Lucas leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and sighing, "Why'd that interview take so long, there's literally no cars left here."

I turned to look at Lucas. I stared at him for a second before I pulled his shoulder forward and cupped his face in my hands. I moved it from side to side, looking for any damage.

"Are you okay?" I asked worriedly, "I didn't get a chance to ask earlier, but I know that Nadia took you down on the floor."

Lucas laughed, shoving my hands off of him, "I'm fine, just a couple of bruises here and there. Nothing too bad."

"Are you sure?" I asked with my brows furrowed, looking into his green eyes.

"Yes, Kai. I'm fine. If anything I'm just happy you managed to avoid getting hit by Viktor."

"Seriously!" I exclaimed in relief. "This is the least damage I've ever taken in a fight, even you've hurt me more than Viktor did. Right now I think I might have a scrape on the back of my head and a small cut on my ear, but that's it."

"I'm happy you're not hurt," Lucas' eyes crinkled up from his grin.

I stared at Lucas' eye smile, "You're so fucking beautiful," I whispered.

The brown-haired boy was now looking into my eyes as well, his gaze darting down to my lips.

I began to lean forward, Lucas doing the same until our lips finally connected into a sweet kiss and our eyes fluttered closed.

There was no tongue, it was sensual and full of emotion. I moved my lips against his, then tugging the plump pink flesh in between my teeth causing Lucas to groan.

I laughed at his reaction and pulled away, Lucas rolling his eyes.

"I like this," I spoke, looking forward.

"Like what?" Lucas was staring at me.

"This. I like kissing you."

"Me too."

"About what Miguel said earlier..." Lucas began.

"Mhmm?"

"Are you scared to come out?" He asked hesitantly.

"Nah, I don't care about what others have to say."

"So..."

"I'm just not used to sharing personal things with others. You know how I am, I'm pretty closed off. Also, I feel like coming out is going to create a whole new wave of issues and I already have so many problems to deal with right now..." I told him.

"That makes sense," Lucas agreed.

"What about you?" I asked.

"How do I feel about coming out? I don't care. I'm fine not telling anyone, but I'm also okay with telling everyone. Actually-" Lucas was cut off by the buzzing of my phone.

I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the notification, "It's from Joon. I think it's all the information he has about my dad..."

I unlocked my phone and opened the email, carefully reading each word.

Hello Kai,

Below I have listed everything I know about your father, Sangtae, and his whereabouts.

Address: 637 XXX Street, Dramth, CA

House-hold occupants:

Yoon Sangtae: Korean, 48 years old, Occupation: Director of marketing at XXX Corp.

Cell: unknown

Social Media: none

Jamilla Ababio: African American, 42 years old, wife of Yoon Sangtae for the past six years, Occupation CFO of XXX Corp.

Cell: unknown

Social Media: none

Charlotte Yoon: Korean/African American, 10 years old, 5th grader at Dramth Elementary School, Parents: Yoon Sangtae and Jamilla Ababio

Cell: unknown

Social Media: charlotte.y123

Jamilla met Sangtae when he was still living with you. When he was running from the cops, he sought her out for shelter and aid. As far as I know, Jamilla is unaware of Sangtae's crimes regarding his previous family and drugs. I am unable to confirm if he still has substance addictions, but it seems to be gone or at minimal usage.

The ball is now in your court, I no longer owe you anything. With this email, our deal has concluded.

Song Byung Joon.

I sucked in a breath, "I have the address."

"Okay..." Lucas spoke quietly. "So, what now?"

"Do... do you think you could take me there now?" I asked.

Lucas' eyebrows became tightly knit, "Now? I don't think that's a good idea."

"I won't do anything tonight," I explained. "It's not time yet. It's just- I just need to see."

Lucas bit his lip and then calmly agreed, "Okay. I'll take you."

"Thank you, I-" There was a loud bang on the passenger window, causing me to whip my head to the side, startled. My eyes were wide but my gaze quickly turned into a glare.

Lucas rolled down the windows, "What the fuck, Zay! Why are you hitting my windows?"

"Aww come one, man, don't be so uptight. I was just trying to scare Kai!" Zay brought his hand up and cockily rubbed his nose, "Mission accomplished."

I rolled my eyes and turned to the other side of the car where Jack was standing outside of Lucas' door's window.

"We've been waiting here forever," Jack complained as he and Zay both climbed into the backseats.

"We had to do an interview," Lucas told them.

"Anyway," Jack started as he buckled his seatbelt, "congrats on winning!"

"Thanks," I spoke as Lucas began driving to my dad's new house.

"Where are we going?" Zay asked as we passed our exit.

"Joon gave me my dad's address."

"Are you sure we should be going now?" Jack asked skeptically.

"We are just going to look. That's it," I told them.

"Whatever you say, bud," Zay's ton was sarcastic.

We pulled up a couple of houses away from the address Joon gave me. I looked around at the other homes on the street, they are all incredibly nice. They were all large two-story houses with freshly cut grass lining their front yards. They all had a modern style with varying colors. My dad's house was a light grey with black trims and a black front door. The lights were on in nearly all of the rooms, giving me a small view inside of their house.

The room closest to me was the living room. Through a large window, I could see the edge of a large couch with a pair of small, dark feet sticking out along with a cartoon playing on the large flatscreen TV.

"That must be your sister," Lucas commented.

Fuck, I can't believe I actually have a little sister.

"Probably," I muttered.

I was staring at the small portion of her that I could see when my view was suddenly blocked by the back of a man.

I-Is that him? Is that my dad?

My jaw clenched tightly and my hands curled into fists.

He sat down next to her, kicking his legs up, but all I could see was their feet.

"What if he hurts her too?" I asked no one in particular. "W-what if-" Lucas cut me off.

"Don't think about that. If she was being beaten, Joon probably would have mentioned it. And if she is, there isn't anything we can do right now. We have to wait," Lucas tried to calm me down.

I rubbed my hand against my face, "Let's just go. If we stay here any longer I'm gonna run out of the car and barge into their house."

Lucas turned the car around, dropping Jack and Zay off at their places and then driving us back to ours.

I trudged into our apartment, unsure if I was frustrated, worried, or happy about our win. Probably all three. I went straight to our couch where I sat on the edge and took my phone out. I wanted to make sure Charlotte was okay.

I quickly looked up her Instagram, her bio made me laugh.

Blasian <3 10 <3 I Love Dogs <3

I began to nibble on my thumb as Lucas sat down next to me, peering over my lap and looking at my phone.

"I don't know what to say," I told him. "She doesn't even know she has a brother. What if she thinks I'm a creep?"

"Well, messaging little kids is kinda fucked. But what can you do, you just have to try and explain it to her and hope for the best."

I sighed, "Okay, I'll start with, Hi, my name is Kai. This might sound weird but I'm your half brother."

I turned off my phone and threw it on the pillow next to me, resting my head back on the couch and closing my eyes, "She might not even respond. What if she blocks me? Then I'll have no way to know what's going on in that house..."

"Don't jump to conclusions just yet, it's late so she might already be asleep."

"Charlotte's gonna think I'm some creep. I have 500,000 followers, the only celebrities that message children are literal pedophiles..."

"Oh? So you're a celebrity now?" Lucas teased me.

"Shut up, you know what I mean," I pouted.

There was a loud ding that came from my phone. I jumped in place and grabbed the device. I fumbled it in my hands and practically dropped it as I tried to type in my password.

"She replied," I said breathlessly.

Half-brother? Charlotte texted. Are you related to my dad? You have the same last name.

I quickly replied, Yeah, I'm your dad's son. Lucas was resting his head on my shoulder, watching the interaction. I continued to move my thumbs, quickly hitting send, Please believe me, I'm not a weird person or a creep or anything like that.

"You know," Lucas' jaw was bouncing up and down on my shoulder, "pedos would say that kind of stuff too. Who would admit to being a perv trying to pick up young girls."

"Fuck off," I muttered.

I believe you. I looked at your profile and you look similar to a boy in a picture my dad has, Charlotte messaged.

Dad has a picture of me? I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Why the fuck would he keep a picture of a kid he repeatedly beat and tried to kill?" I said to myself, but Lucas winced at my words.

Yes. He got very mad when I saw it...

What do you mean? I asked with growing concern

I've never seen him so scary before. He was like a different person.

"This would be so much easier to talk about in person," I huffed.

"Then ask if you can call her," Lucas stated.

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea."

This is my number, I think it will be easier to talk about this than text. If it's okay with you...