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From the moment he was born, Felix Huxley had been clothed in silk and handled with the same delicately sterile precision as one might bestow upon a valuable artefact. The hands that tended to him were brisk and efficient by nature; cold and methodological, mechanical as they were confident. Those hands were trained to foster and nourish him, to provide everything from food to clothing, but never to linger. When Felix was upset, he was left to cry, fruitless wails ignored amidst the cavernous halls of his parents’ lavish mansion. Vulnerability was a weakness, his parents were convinced; his age was surely no excuse for such pathetic inadequacies.

Felix was expected to rise above the immaturity of his peers, and to develop at the exceptionally rapid rate his parents considered the bare minimum. He was valuable, yes, and the fragile caution with which he was tended to could be easily mistaken for affection– but Felix’s worth had never been as a son. 

As an heir, on the other hand? Well, that was a separate matter entirely.

Instilled in him from the second he was old enough to understand speech, the knowledge that Felix was only deserving of love whilst he was of use had been burned into him like a brand. In his ever-logical eyes, it made sense: why would anyone feel obligated to appreciate a hindrance? His parents had far more important matters to tend to than heeding the childish whims of a disrespectful wretch.

Mother and Father were busy. They were always busy, schedules teeming with one meeting after another. And Felix understood. And Felix accepted that. 

It was easy enough to overcome the disheartening loneliness of being ignored when he was never alone. Not for a single moment. After all, ever since Felix had come into the world, Teddy had been right by his side.

Lives intertwined as their hands often were, Felix and Ted had always been a pair. There was no ‘Felix’ without an ‘and Ted’ tacked onto the end, nor could there be simply ‘and Ted’ without the ‘Felix’ invariably preceding it. Ted was a bright spot amidst the dim halls of a too-large manor: soft where their father was harsh; warm in a world that would have otherwise felt freezing. Their supervisors came and went, their parents shut away in their respective offices, but Felix could always count on Teddy to stay.

It was on one of those endless grey afternoons– those where lethargy hangs like a plague and the sky warns of upset to come– when Felix finally said it. The twins were sat idly in their assigned playroom, surrounded by the most expensive indulgences money could buy. Hulking encyclopaedias too heavy to lift, a singular wooden horse that Teddy adored , tailored books for them to practice their handwriting on, a small model house that they weren’t allowed to touch. The nursery was kept just as pristine as the rest of the mansion. Polished, preserved, perfect. Exactly like Felix was expected to be.

Exactly like he was. Or, at least, like he tried to be. No matter how diligently Felix strived to be flawless, his father was always able to find fault. Felix was doing something wrong, he was sure. He had to be. He just had to find out what.

“Teddy,” Felix began hesitantly, tapping his leg anxiously. Upon remembering the reprimand he’d received the last time he started fidgeting, Felix hastily ceased the action, his spine straightening instinctively.

“Yes, Felix?” Ted asked, innocence lacing every word. Ted didn’t care about fidgeting, his hair somewhat bedraggled as he closed the book in front of him.

“Do you think that Father… Um… That is to say, does he like us?” The question was hesitant, Felix’s voice wavering uncertainly. He watched as Ted’s brow furrowed in confusion, his brother tilting his head like a bewildered puppy.

“Of course he does! He’s our father,” Ted replied, as though the answer was obvious. “That’s what fathers do!”

“I don’t know,” Felix was far from convinced. Despite all of the fairytales and the families and the films he’d been exposed to, the concept of a loving father seemed foreign , to say the least . “Father isn’t… Like the other parents. He doesn’t hug us, or say goodnight to us, or give us shoulder rides.”

Felix rather liked the idea of a shoulder ride. Once on a walk to the neighbourhood park, he’d watched a man hoist his daughter onto his shoulders, smiling at the sound of her laughter as they continued on ahead. Somewhat awed, Felix had looked over to his nanny and made to ask a question, only to be ushered along without another word. The futile fantasy of Father acting so joyously around him made his heart ache with longing.

“No…” Ted’s voice trailed off contemplatively, a hint of uncertainty seeping into his tone. Teddy was an excellent listener. Intently focused even as he chewed on the ends of his pens, Ted was receptive to Felix’s opinions and always ready to nod along to his plans. Felix appreciated that. This time, he couldn’t help but want Ted to dispute his words. “But he’s still our father . He, uh… He bought us the rocking horse! And the dollhouse, and our clothes, and– and loads and loads of stuff.”

“He did buy lots of stuff for us,” Felix acquiesced, slumping slightly. He felt his eyes begin to burn, and forced his wobbling voice to stay even. “But it’s not ours. Besides, he doesn’t want to be around us, Teddy. He won’t let us go to his parties, or play with us. I– we don’t impress him. I don’t think he loves us at all.”

Teddy’s eyes began to well with tears too, and Felix felt his heart leap with regret. He opened his mouth to apologise, only for Ted to speak first. “Well– well even if he doesn’t like us, that’s okay!” Ted stuck his chin up, setting his jaw firmly. “‘Cause I’ll just like you enough for two people!”

“Oh,” Felix blinked at him, wide-eyed. He’d never considered that before. Teddy was full of love, immense and unfaltering. It was in the hugs every night before bed, in the whispered stories he made up when Felix couldn’t sleep, in the cheerful ‘good morning!’s whenever they awoke. He was the ‘and Ted’ to his Felix. Felix couldn’t be more grateful for that. “Good idea, Teddy,” he sniffled, wiping his sleeve over his eyes as he prepared to make a promise. “I will like you double the amount too.”

“Then it’s settled!” Ted beamed, springing to his feet. “We’ll be so loving that Father will see it and realise how much he’s missing out on.” He nodded sagely, sure of his plan. “You’ll impress him soon enough, Felix, I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe,” Felix smiled back, tentative and hopeful. To see the same easy affection on Teddy’s face plastered across his father’s would be nothing short of life-changing. He took a deep, calming breath. “Thank you.”

Ted giggled, making his way over to him and wrapping Felix in a comfortingly warm hug. “Of course!” He chirped brightly. “‘S what brothers do. I’m gonna like you no matter what. Pinky swear.” He stuck out his finger, binding the vow once and for all.

That, Felix had already been sure of. As he embraced Teddy in turn, a switch flipped in his brain. Ted’s love was easy to come by, sweet and unconditional to its core. If Felix wanted to earn his father’s too, he would have to work for it.

He would succeed. One day, he’d watch a smile soften those sharp features, cold eyes warming like an ice cube in the sun. One day, he’d become a son to be proud of. He had to.

2)

After that, achieving his father’s affection became Felix’s primary focus.

Upon starting kindergarten, he was separated from Teddy, placed into separate tutoring classes to assess his capabilities outside of school. He pushed himself further and further, refusing to achieve anything less than exceptional in the endless tests his tutor conducted. Felix needed to rise above any sort of mediocrity; needed to prove himself as someone worth loving.

The evening after every arduous test had been completed, Father had come to see him. It had felt as though bees were buzzing under Felix’s skin, flitting about with excitement and alighting every one of his nerves. Felix fought the urge to rock on his heels as he waited in his makeshift home classroom, forcing his hands firmly by his sides and keeping his smile just dim enough to be respectable.

When Father entered the room, Felix found himself straightening even further , lifting his chin as high as he could to look into the man’s stormy cerulean eyes. Father was a respectable man, always properly dressed. His blonde hair was carefully slicked back, his beard clean-shaven and his shirts perfectly pressed. He was the picture of power and poise, and Felix aspired to one day look just like him.

“Felix,” Father began, frosty and clear as usual. His voice was like a sculpture of ice, perfectly moulded and glacial to the core. It glinted with the promise of danger, forming protective barricades against any melting warmth that might threaten his unfaltering rigidity. It was a cold voice. Felix shivered at the sound of it. “Your test results are…”

Felix held his breath, feeling his heart pound with anticipation in his chest as he did everything in his power not to squirm.

“Acceptable.”

Freezing in place, Felix tried to decipher his father’s tone. Was that… Good? Bad? Father didn’t look particularly pleased, but he didn’t look overly disgruntled either. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

“However,” That wintry voice sharpened further, jagged icicles pointed dangerously close to Felix’s heart. He was sure that he could see his breath fog up the air in front of him. “You just barely surpassed your brother’s score.”

“So we both did good?” Felix guessed hopefully. His father did not take kindly to that comment.

"Did well ,” he corrected harshly, looking down on Felix with a sneer. “And no , son, you did not. Besides, you oughtn't rejoice in a rival's success. Theodore is not your friend. He is your competition. ” Felix wilted at that, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble. Father sighed, softening slightly. “Look at me, Felix.” Fighting the well of emotions surging within him, Felix did as he was told. “Don’t you want to make me proud?”

“Yes, Father,” Felix replied immediately, conviction steadying his wobbling voice. “More than anything.”

“Then earn it . Best your brother, prove yourself worthy of acknowledgement, and take your rightful place as the sole heir.” The words burned into Felix’s mind like a brand, every syllable a new, burning blow. “Only then will you be a true Huxley.”

“...Yes, Father,” Felix repeated, his voice halting and unsteady. He stood his ground, posture erect and suit unwrinkled. Father nodded shortly at him.

“Good. Off you go then. Shoo. There’s no time to waste.”

And so, Felix scrambled away, back towards he and Teddy’s bedroom. His mind was filled with clouds of doubt, his uncertainty and desperation at bloodthirsty war with one another. He hardly noticed Ted enter the room too, not until his brother had already greeted him.

“Hi, Felix,” Ted chirped, though his usual happiness had been diminished significantly. Subdued was not a look that suited Teddy, Felix decided. Such misery would be far better placed on another person entirely. “How were your results?”

“Fine,” Felix told him, the response small and clipped. “I spoke to Father.”

“Me too,” Teddy climbed atop his bed, his eyebrows creasing together. He didn’t feel like a competitor. Felix knew everything about Teddy, from his favourite type of omelette to the side of the bed he enjoyed sleeping on most. To think of him as a rival felt… Wrong. “Hey Felix, did Father tell you–”

“It’s late,” Felix interrupted, his heart picking up speed as he stood abruptly. “We need to get ready for bed. Come on, Teddy.”

Teddy raised no further opposition as they brushed their teeth and changed into pajamas: a red pair for Teddy, a blue pair for Felix. Colour-coded, just like practically every one of their possessions. With rising unease, Felix began to notice the stark absence of individuality in any of their belongings. He’d always loved being part of a pair. Now, the idea filled him with sickening, awful consternation.

Felix loved his brother. As Ted bid him a warm goodnight, he was reminded of that more strongly than ever. Unfortunately, he could not afford to let his affections obscure his judgement. Father had highlighted what was important. Felix could still care about Ted! He just… Had to prove he was the better heir first.

Nauseating, misplaced jealousy coiled around his innards at the thought of Teddy being showered with Father’s pride and adoration, heavy, itching trepidation settling around his shoulders. Felix couldn’t bear the thought of failing where Ted succeeded. An ugly part of him wondered if maybe, had Felix been born an only child, Father’s love would be easier to earn.

After a couple of hours dwelling restlessly on his disturbed thoughts, Felix drifted off into slumber. Much to his dismay, however, said thoughts weren’t quite done with him.

Felix was at his kindergarten. The grass was a spritely shade of lime green, its blades swaying gently in the summer breeze. Beating down onto his face, the sun filled the air with a borderline uncomfortable heat, and Felix found himself glancing instinctively towards Ozzy’s tree. He’d expected to see the redhead below it, taking respite in the shade before begrudgingly offering Felix a spot beside him. Instead, there was simply empty space.

Apprehensively, Felix glanced around for any sign of life. The playground was unusually quiet, even the usual buzzing of the beehive silenced. His eyes caught onto Teddy, stood alone in the sandbox, and Felix felt his shoulders sag in relief. He wasn’t alone after all!

“Teddy!” He called out, watching his brother’s hair blow gently from side to side. Felix approached him quickly, the grass rustling under his polished leather shoes. The soft blades turned to coarse grains, fine and warm under the heat of the sun. Felix remembered what the sandbox had been like after a rainy day, the ground sticking together in dark beige clumps as though he’d been lifting mud instead.

“Felix,” came the response, disconcertingly short. The clipped nature of his answer gave Felix pause, something about the coldness in his brother’s voice freezing his feet to the sandy floor.

“What’s going on?” Felix asked, worrying away at his lower lip. His hands tugged absently on the edges of his sleeves to provide him with something to do, Felix stepping closer still. Teddy didn’t turn around. “Where is everyone?”

“A better question would be why I’m still here,” Ted replied, his voice devoid of any emotion. Slowly, he turned around, meeting Felix’s shocked stare with frosty, dead eyes. “You don’t want me here, do you, Felix?”

“Huh?” Felix’s eyebrows drew together, his mouth dropping open in astounded concern. “Teddy, I–”

“It’s Theodore ,” his brother interrupted, then continued on like Felix had never spoken. “You want to get rid of me.” He tilted his head then, eerie and calculating. Felix knew one thing for sure: this was not his brother. “Father would never love you either way. You know that. You don’t deserve his pride.”

Felix felt his lower lip wobble, a foreboding grey cloud drifting over his source of sunlight. Teddy’s face was cast in shadows, highlighting everything wrong about it. Gaunt cheeks, hollow pools for eyes, a bloodied gash across his cheek. Felix wanted to ask if he was okay. Instead, he wordlessly stepped closer, uncannily entranced by the twisted facsimile of his twin.

“You would do anything to be worth something.” Ted– Theodore whispered, though the hiss of his voice stayed audible as ever. The sound was reminiscent of a bomb; a stick of dynamite steadily fizzling towards destruction. “Would you do it, Felix?” As his proximity to Teddy increased, Felix’s gut lurched, his eyes locking onto the deep, endless pit his brother was stood before. “Would you push me?”

“No,” Felix breathed out, his expression cracking in horror. A lump rose in his throat, storm clouds swirling over a reddening sky and distorted sunset hues bathing the playground in hazardous orange. “No, I promise, I wouldn’t–”

“You would,” Ted but not Ted vowed, standing dangerously close to the ledge. From what Felix could see, the pit was endless , tunneling down into lonely oblivion forever. Rushing forwards, Felix made to grab his brother’s hand, only for Theodore to grip him tightly by the shoulders instead. “But you won’t. I won’t let you.”

“Teddy?” Felix called out, his voice deathly afraid. His mouth felt as dry as the sandbox he was stood in, a cloying, sickening, sticky tightness coating his chest. “What are you doing?”

“I am not your friend, Felix,” Theodore reminded him, those inky replacements for eyes boring into Felix’s own terrified pair. “I am your competition. Only one of us can earn his place as heir.” He leaned forwards then, cold breath brushing against Felix’s ear. Teddy wasn’t supposed to be cold. Teddy was the warmest person Felix knew. “And that’s going to be me.”

With that, Felix found his own feet on the ledge, dislodging sand as panic leapt into his throat. “No, no, I’m not going in there! Can’t we talk about this?!” Desperation slipped into Felix’s tone, his hand grabbing onto Theodore’s sleeve as tightly as he could. “Teddy, please, I’m sor–”

“I told you.” The reply was as methodological as the hand removing Felix from his sleeve. “My name is Theodore. ”

And with one short push, Felix began to plummet.

Overwhelming, icy dizziness flooded Felix’s veins, his heart pounding frantically against his ribcage in a way that made his chest throb with pain. Felix flailed, hand catching on nothing but the dirt wall beside him, Theodore’s cold, empty eyes vanishing into the darkness as he fell further down, down, down–

“NO!” Felix screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed. His hand flew to his shirt, clutching it as he panted heavily, struggling for breath. Every inhale came in a rapid wheeze, his fingers trembling and his forehead drenched in sweat. The clarity of the nightmare slipped away like sand through his fingers, and with increasing panic, Felix found himself completely unable to breathe.

Pitifully, he let out a sort of choking gasp, his fingers constricting around his throat. Air wasn’t getting in. Why wasn’t air getting in? Wetness slid down Felix’s cheeks, his frame wracked with shuddering sobs as he coughed and cried and silently pleaded for help.

His head swimming, Felix barely noticed when the light flicked on, his body flinching before his mind could catch up. It wasn’t dark anymore, but vertigo enveloped him nonetheless, his lungs squeezing and wrenching, his stomach flipped inside out. A hand took hold of his own, clumsily prying it from around his throat. Felix keened, hot tears slipping from his cool blue eyes more rapidly than he could control them.

Teddy’s face blurred into focus, his mouth open oddly wide. Slowly, it clicked in Felix’s panicking mind that Teddy was breathing. Slow, wide, exaggerated inhales, ones Felix couldn’t hear over his own uncontrollable wheezes, but big enough for him to focus on. Struggling immensely, Felix did his best to copy the motion, frenetically attempting to suck oxygen into his spluttering chest.

It took several tries for him to retain any semblance of control, his throat burning and constricting no matter how hard Felix tried to return it to normal. After what seemed like an eternity, he managed to reach a somewhat regular pace, his heart still at a rabbit’s pace in his chest as Felix heaved with exhaustion. His head tilted back against the wall, clothes sticking to his skin as a foul taste lingered in his mouth.

“...Better?” A voice asked suddenly, worried and uncertain. Teddy. Felix searched his eyes wildly, seeing not inky black, but a familiar sapphire blue. Another tear trickling down his face, he nodded silently. “Good. That was really scary.” Ted paused, fidgeting with his hands. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Stay,” Felix managed to get out, his voice cracking and thick. He hated it, hated how pathetic it sounded, but the thought of being left alone made his breath hitch all over again. “Stay here. Please .”

Teddy’s eyes widened, then softened visibly. “Okay,” he whispered, gently wrapping Felix in a hug. Carefully manoeuvring the blankets, Ted found a way for them to share the space, swaddling Felix in baby blue sheets. The shade was calming, in its own way. Not quite cold, not quite warm. Despite the sweat clinging to his skin, Felix burrowed his face into the covers.

Ted stayed beside him, a warm, solid weight. Unthinkingly, Felix took his brother’s hand in his own, fingers interlocking securely. Ted held on right back. “I’m here,” Teddy murmured, resting his head on the pillow. “You’re okay. I promise.”

Slowly, Felix let his eyes flutter shut again. Petrified as he was to return to his horrendous dreams, Felix couldn’t fight the tiredness washing over him in waves. Ted’s hand was hot in his, like a radiator during winter. Drowsily, he snuggled into Teddy’s side, taking comfort in the warmth.

Within minutes, the brothers had slipped off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

…The next morning, Felix remembered his dream with equal parts fear, guilt and caution. It was a silly matter to concern himself with, he knew. Father would scoff at his senseless overreaction. Still, the feeling endured, and Felix found himself less inclined to be around Ted by the minute.

Despite Teddy’s inevitable dismay, Felix put in a request to change rooms. Father was all too happy to oblige.

3)

If there was one thing Felix prided himself on above all else, it was his independence. Where other useless children his age flailed about helplessly for guidance like the incompetent babies they were, Felix had taken it upon himself a long time ago to make his own decisions. There was no use in distracting his caretakers with trivial matters when they had a company to run, especially since Felix was more than capable of looking after himself. Establishing his capability was necessary in proving his worth. He did not need help.

And he was certainly, definitely, positively not sick.

He awoke one dreary Thursday morning feeling as though his head had been stuffed with cotton. Eyes bleary, muscles aching, an uneasy sensation in his stomach: even removing himself from bed posed a slight struggle. But Felix was a Huxley, and Huxleys were independent. He managed well enough, even if it did take an embarrassingly longer time than he’d hoped it would to extract himself from the warmth of his bedcovers.

Suppressing a groan, Felix began to prepare himself for the day. The pale blue walls around him were pristine and cool, and he couldn’t help the slight shiver that ran down his spine as he approached his en suite. Felix grimaced at the feeling of his blocked nose, trying to make the sniff that was incurred as a result sound as dignified as possible. Nonetheless, the unpleasant sound grated against his ears as though it were sandpaper or Teddy’s voice, and Felix vowed to refrain from releasing such an indecorous snort again.

With every fibre of his being tightly-strung, he busied himself with the usual morning tasks he needed to complete before school. Thankfully, his regular routine was easy enough to follow, Felix taking a shred of comfort in the familiarity of it. There was no need to push through the dim haze shrouding his sharp mind when he could rely on his subconscious to take the lead. Between one blink and the next, his tie had been fastened around his neck, his hair neatly combed to the left, and he had sat down at his mansion’s huge dining table.

The dark oak was smooth under his fingers’ absentminded wanders, and Felix found himself far more preoccupied with that than the files before him. The blonde often liked to get a headstart on his paperwork before school, so as to optimise his time to the fullest extent. Father trusted him with matters of the utmost importance, and it would not do Felix in good stead to neglect the duties he’d been entrusted.

His full English Breakfast lay cooling upon a china plate, discarded to the side in favour of the small print before him. Felix squinted, scanning over lines without taking in a word written upon them. Frustration blossomed in his chest, immature and ugly, and he cursed the odd fog that was masking his usual flawless efficiency falter. He huffed, finally stacking the documents once more and carefully placing them on the chair beside him.

Begrudgingly, Felix slid his breakfast in front of him once more, picking at his sausages and hash browns with brow furrowed in irritation. His appetite was nonexistent that morning, but he knew he had to eat. Sighing, Felix reluctantly lifted a forkful of bacon to his lips, feeling something roil within his gut as it entered his mouth. Every bite felt like climbing over a mountain, his teeth moving mechanically as he struggled to finish it.

It seemed he wouldn’t be able to finish his meal either. But that was fine! It was hardly like one morning without breakfast would kill him– goodness knows he’d skipped it countless times before. Besides, he still had his tea. It was pale from the milk added, and Felix had a half mind to stop drinking it once he noticed how sweet the drink was. Whoever had put the sugar in that morning deserved to be fired. It seemed acrid and odd, exemplifying the intense churning of his stomach far beyond what was comfortable.

Felix grimaced at the sound of the soft pattering of feet approaching him. Resisting the overwhelming urge to bury his head in his hands, he instead preemptively interrupted the inevitable cheery ‘morning, Felix!’ with a groan of, “go away, Teddy.”

“Good morning, Felix!” Ted responded, very much not going away. Felix raised his heavy head to give his brother a critical once-over. Ted was sporting an absurdly unprofessional smile, his blue tie slightly askew and a strand of hair falling into his eyes. No matter how many times Felix tried to convince his brother to change it, Ted was convinced that his hair ought to mirror Felix’s own. He opened his mouth to voice his many critiques, only for Teddy to interrupt him with that awful, no-good, terrible, grating, noisy voice of his. “How are you today?”

“Alive,” Felix bit back, as little as he felt it just then. His limbs were made of lead, his neck prickled with an uncomfortable sweat behind his collar, and his entire face felt horrendously congested. He was sure it would pass if he ignored it for long enough, but it certainly put a damper on what would have otherwise been a productive morning. “Your tie is wrong, Teddy. Do take it upon yourself to look at your reflection every once in a while. It’s disgraceful to present yourself like an unkept urchin.”

Teddy wilted, as was right. Felix looked on approvingly as Ted raised a subtle hand to his tie. Ted’s brow furrowed in what appeared to be shame. “Felix, are… Are you okay?”

Hm. Concern , not shame. How disappointing.

“Just fine, Teddy,” Felix snapped sharply back. Or, at least, he attempted to snap sharply back. His words felt strange in his mouth, catching on his tongue and lasting a little longer than he would have liked.

Unfortunately, his words did nothing to negate Teddy’s unfounded, unneeded fretting.“It’s just– you sound a little slu–”

“Is it really such a monumentous effort to just keep your mouth shut , Teddy?” Felix asked, a frustrated heat coming to his face. “I am not sick. I am perfectly fine. Now shoo.”

Mercifully, Teddy did shoo, trying to hide that infuriating pout he often acquired when Felix insulted him. It was somewhat reminiscent of a kicked puppy. And while Felix would be more than happy to kick Ted , no canine could ever compare to his brother’s pure incompetence. It was an insult to the creatures to associate them with Teddy. Teddy was more like a… A worm. Yes, that was it. A pitiful, wriggling worm.

Soon enough, Felix found himself seated in one of his father’s limousines, positioned as far away from Teddy as he physically could be. He struggled to maintain his posture against the sleek leather, his shoulders drooping tiredly whenever he lost focus. Teddy was fidgeting, a little hunched over, proving once more just how much of a failure he was. Felix rolled his eyes, turning to the window to watch the houses slip by.

He didn’t typically enjoy people-watching, not when it forced him to bear witness to the poor. Felix spotted street rats with rotting teeth yellowed by cigarette smoke, scruffy citizens who had clearly slept in rushing to unlock the wretched tin cans they called cars, dutiful mothers struggling to manage their unruly crowds of children. It made a little pride swell in his chest. Felix would never pose such an embarrassment to his family. He had perfect dental care, was riding in the sleekest vehicle in the district, and presented the very picture of elegance and perfection. 

At least, he had been presenting the very picture of elegance and perfection. Then, he started hacking his lungs out.

“Felix!” Teddy cried out, twisting in his seat to look over at him. Felix doubled over, wheezing, every cough scratching painfully against this throat. He suddenly longed for a glass of his favourite iceberg-harvested water, burying his face into the crook of his elbow to stifle the coughing fit. He would have to burn this shirt once today was over. 

“I am fine , Teddy!” Felix managed to splutter, loathing how unconvincing he sounded. Not that it mattered. Teddy would have to accept his response either way. Felix let out an unsteady exhale when the struggle in his chest finally ceased, shutting his eyes for a moment and smoothing out his expression. “I’m fine. It appears I have been temporarily afflicted with hayfever. It will pass.”

“But Felix,” Ted scrunched up his nose, confused. “When I was all sniffly the other day, you told me your perfect DNA means you can’t get allergies–”

“Precisely,” Felix cut him off, folding his arms. “My goodness, Teddy, have your ears stopped working in the brief period we’ve been driving for? That’s where the ‘temporarily’ part came from. You truly are dense.”

Teddy opened his mouth to protest like the fool he was, but it was at that moment that they arrived at the school gates. With a quick nod to the chauffeur, Felix exited the limousine, making his way towards his usual spot outside of the school. He sniffed again as quietly as he could, bristling when Ozzy sent him an odd look. The pealing of the bell could not come soon enough, and it was with a scowl on his face that Felix flounced towards his usual table. 

As Dr Danner began droning on about how to assemble an ion cannon, Felix allowed himself a moment of rest. His prickling eyes closed for a moment, and he took slow, even breaths through his mouth. He was healthy. He was well. He was fine. And even if he wasn’t, he was completely capable of handling things alone. Felix was independent, and needed help from no-one , least of all his idiotic little brother.

Grumbling under his breath as a small shiver went down his spine, Felix braced himself for a long day of school.

****

Ted was worried. All morning, Felix had been acting… Off. Ted was almost entirely sure he was sick, but Felix had insisted there was no need for him to get involved. Obviously, Ted would trust his brother with his life, but Felix did have a concerning tendency to neglect his health at times, and Ted had a sneaking suspicion this was another one of such instances occurring.

Felix had ushered him away when Ted tried to linger by his side, so he’d gone to stand awkwardly by the toy box. As much as he tried to preoccupy himself with a little red toy car, his eyes kept dragging back to where Felix was uncharacteristically slumped at his table. Ted had a half-mind to point out to his brother how unprofessional he looked, if only to prevent Felix’s unavoidable later frustration at the matter, but he doubted it would be of much help when Felix looked quite so very exhausted.

Ted’s eyebrows rose in surprise when Ozzy of all people approached him, leaving his usual trio. Panicking, Ted paused, wondering what he should do. Felix wouldn’t want him talking to Ozzy without him around, especially since Ozzy’s mom’s company had gained such a leg up recently. Floundering for a solution, Ted found himself freezing as Ozzy came to a stop in front of him, looking far too confrontational for Ted’s liking.

“Felix looks sick,” Ozzy commented without so much as a hello, arms tightly crossed in front of his chest. He looked distinctly put-out, his eyes narrowed and eyebrows tightly knitted. “Why’s he here when he’s not well? He’s going to give us all his disease!”

“He’s perfectly fine,” Ted responded, parroting what Felix had said earlier and trying to hide the uncertain waver to his voice. “He told me so himself.”

Ozzy didn’t look impressed. “And you believed him? Didn’t he tell you eating chocolate would make people wanna attack you?”

“It’s true! Chocolate secretes a special pheromone that attracts rabid poor people!”

“ Sure it does,” Ozzy rolled his eyes, twirling Destructotron between his fingers.

“Felix always tells me the truth,” Ted proclaimed earnestly. “If it weren’t for him, I might have actually thought Santa would bring me something last Christmas! If… If he says he’s okay, I believe him.”

“Suit yourself,” the redhead shrugged. “Don’t blame me if you get sick and die from all his icky germs. I’m gonna keep my distance, as always, watching far away.”

“Okay,” Ted nodded, waiting for Ozzy to leave. Instead, the boy paused, his apathetic look twitching ever so slightly into a frown as Ted watched curiously.

“You should… Keep an eye on him,” Ozzy said finally, averting his eyes and fiddling absently with the ends of his jumper. “Just in case he gets worse, you know. It would… Suck if he died, or whatever.” He flushed a little, grip tightening until Ted could see the white of his knuckles. “I’m sure you guys can afford some sort of fancy doctor. But if he’s too stubborn to see that he’s ill, you need to make him. I’ll… See you later.”

“Bye Ozzy,” Ted waved halfheartedly, watching the other boy head back to Madison and Ron. It felt like a stone had just settled in Ted’s stomach, heavy and uncomfortable. Ozzy’s words rang through his head over and over again– Felix wasn’t actually going to die, was he? Felix was too important to die. If either of them were to die of an infection, Ted was certain it would be him.

But Felix looked so pale , and had been coughing all morning. If he couldn’t get allergies, and he couldn’t get sick, why did he look so lethargic? Ted puzzled over the matter some more, fiddling with the bottom of his tie, then decided to check on his brother. Even if Felix got mad at him, at least Ted would know he was okay.

Much to Ted’s apprehension, when he glanced over to Felix’s desk, Penny was there, a hand on his shoulder. She shook it gently, and Felix sat up with a start, his eyes wide and panicked. Confusion crossed his features, blonde hair plastered to his forehead, before understanding dawned on his face and Felix’s mouth contorted into a familiar scowl.

“You shouldn’t sleep in class, Felix,” Penny reprimanded, a frown on her usual smiling face. “Morning time is for learning and making friends!”

“Like I’d want to be friends with any of you,” Felix huffed, folding his arms. If Ted didn’t know any better, he might have thought Felix was embarrassed about being woken up. “Besides, I wasn’t sleeping. I was just… Resting my eyes.”

Penny squinted at him, her eyes seeming to flash green for a moment. “Your temperature is far higher than 98.6 degrees.”

“No it’s not,” Felix denied, glaring at her. “You can’t prove that. I assure you, I am in a far better state than you could ever so much as hope to be–”

“You’re not well,” Penny cut him off shortly, a carefully blank look on her face. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to go home.”

“I beg your pardon?!” Felix spluttered indignantly, and as much as Ted wanted to rush to his brother’s defence, he was also loath to make Felix think Ted believed him unable to fight his own battles. Ted would just get in the way again if he intervened, he was sure. “You have no right to make that decision. It is in your best interests to get away from me and go back to playing with your doll or… Whatever it is you do.”

“I will escort you to the principal’s office,” Penny replied, clearly not having listened to a word he’d said. “Your parents will be called to collect you shortly.”

Ted paled at the same time Felix did. Their parents hated being bothered during work hours. If either of them got a call from the school about needing to leave their office at Applesoft… Well. Ted couldn’t let that happen.

He rushed over, panic written across every inch of his face. “It’s okay, Penny! I’m sure Felix can last until the end of the day! Right Felix?”

“Bugger off, Teddy,” Felix responded automatically. “But yes, I suppose that in this instance, you are correct. I am in perfect health. There is no need to–”

“I’m sorry, but we can’t risk a virus spreading throughout the school,” Penny told them. “You’re going to have to come with me.”

“Will you stop interrupting me?!” Felix exclaimed furiously, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you heathen!”

Penny ignored him yet again, turning to where Dr Danner was grumpily sipping his first cup of coffee of the day. “Dr Danner! I need to take Felix to the principal’s office!”

He nodded, grumbling some sort of affirmation before going back to sulking about his class being ‘ignorant halfwits with brains the size of a particularly idiotic ant’s’. Ted, whose panic had already been heightened further by Penny’s mentions of the principal’s office, felt a cold surge of terror flood through him when the girl gripped his brother’s arm, carefully but forcefully pulling Felix out of his seat. The smile was back, but it looked empty and robotic. It seemed like Penny had gone into another one of her blackouts, and those never ended well.

“Can I come with you?!” Ted asked desperately, trying to get through to her. “If Felix isn’t well, he could probably do with some company, right? I wouldn’t want you to, uh, miss out on more valuable learning. Plus, I live with him! I’m way more likely to get infected.”

“I will be okay,” Penny reassured him, her hollow smile and acidic eyes boring uncannily into him. “As will Felix. We are going to the principal’s office.”

“It is fine , Teddy,” Felix growled, visibly repulsed by Penny’s grip. Every one of his muscles seemed even tenser than before, the bags under his eyes scrunching as he scowled. “I can handle this. You needn’t get involved.”

And so, Ted was left to do nothing but stare helplessly after him as his brother was escorted firmly out of sight.

***

Every one of Felix's muscles tensed as he poised himself delicately atop the bubblegum pink cushion of the chair opposite his principal's desk. It was oddly hard, rough and bobbly to the touch, and the hard wooden back of the chair was more than uncomfortable to lean against. Felix resisted his urge to shift about and and find a softer section of the seat, instead swiftly moving his focus towards his principal.

Ms Principal sat across from him, a wide smile on her face that mirrored that of her daughter's. As he met her unblinking ice blue stare, Felix felt a shiver run through him– or perhaps that was just another one of this morning's unfortunate chills. Resting her sharp, pink-painted nails atop her desk, Ms Principal began to speak.

"Penny tells me you've not been feeling well," she said, false sympathy painted across her simpering face. Felix bristled at the condescension in her tone. "We can't have you in school when you're a danger to yourself and others, Felix. What would your father think?"

"My father would think this whole ordeal is senseless and uncalled for," Felix snapped back, feeling a dreadful prickle at his nose. He suddenly, desperately hoped he was not about to sneeze, for that would defeat his entire argument in one fatal blow. "There is nothing preventing me from working at as optimal a rate as I typically do."

"Oh dear," the principal's face fell. "Felix, I must ask that you cooperate with me here! Our school is a wonderful place, and Bob is doing his best to keep it clean! It's not fair to him to get snot and germs everywhere, is it?"

"Wh– how dare you?!" Felix exclaimed, indignant and appalled. “I am not some snivelling hellion! I’m perfectly capable of maintaining my hygiene, and I resent the implication that you believe otherwise. For the last time, I am not sick!”

“Hm,” Ms Principal’s eyes seemed to darken, something sinister seeping in even as her tone remained mild and cheery as ever. Felix held his eye contact nonetheless, stubbornly straightening his spine. “If you aren’t going to listen to me, Felix, I will have to resort to–”

Just then, the door burst open, slamming against the wall. Felix flinched at the sound, cursing himself for the movement, and whipped his head around to look at the newcomer before he realised what he was doing. The malice vanished from Ms Principal’s gaze, replaced with pressed exasperation hidden under a smile of gritted plastic.

“Sister dear,” Ms Margaret croaked, something wild about her. Her hairnet was askew, green burger sauce staining her apron, and there seemed to be some sort of gash across her arm. Her hunched figure blocked out the light behind the door, her crooked ladle held so tightly that Felix could see the way her knuckles had whitened across it. “There was an accident downstairs. A most dreadful accident! I am–”

“Right,” the principal cut her off, frustration and fear bleeding into her peppy tone as she looked pointedly from Margaret to Felix. She stood from her seat, its hard metal feet scraping uncomfortably against the wooden planks beneath her. “I’ll be right there!” Barely giving Felix a second glance, she approached the door, following Margaret’s clodding, vaguely lopsided footsteps. She stopped at the doorway just as her sister had, frozen eerily as she looked behind her. “Stay here, and please don’t touch anything. I will be back momentarily!”

The door clicked shut behind her, and Felix was left alone. Releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and hastily wiping his nose, Felix began to scan his surroundings intently; it was hardly as though he had much else to do, nor like he was immediately disobeying his principal’s request. There was surely no harm in looking.

All in all, the office seemed remarkably dull. A single fake flower stood tall and rigid on her desk, just as unbearably pink as everything else in the room. Piled haphazardly up against beige wallpaper, a collection of strange boxes were really the only exception to the artificial neatness that regulated the room like a drill sergeant. Some odd creation of Danner’s had been displayed beside her cupboards, a pigmented arboreal abomination. Disinterested and frustrated, Felix found his wandering eyes drooping further and further down at an alarming rate.

The sound of the door opening once more was a terrible godsend, forcing Felix into alertness once more. His aching muscles stiffened, the swishing sensation within his stomach amplifying tenfold as he awaited addressal. Shuffling feet began to approach him, the door pulled to in a manner so cautious that Felix found suspicion welling within him. He was an observant individual, or at least, he liked to believe himself as such. 

As the sight of his brother’s blonde head came into sight, Felix’s face fell dramatically. “Teddy!” He hissed, agitated disarray radiating off of him. “You’re not supposed to be here! Why aren’t you in class?!”

“I wanted to come see you!” Ted replied sheepishly, a weak, relieved grin on his face. The ridiculous expression faltered for a moment, some sort of troubled worry intercepting his pathetic joviality. “Since you got sent to the principal’s office, I thought that Penny might have–” 

Felix cut that thought off fast.

“Well you shouldn't have,” Felix insisted, glowering heatedly to cover the warmth that had bloomed in his aching chest. Any semblance of affection at a time like this was just laughable. “How the devil did you get past Stevie undetected?!”

“I may have told him I was sent to the principal's office?” Ted winced, a watery grin still on his face. It was an unspoken rule throughout the school that no-one questioned the principal's authority. Stevie was no exception to that.

Pinching the bridge of his blocked nose, Felix released a wheezing whoosh of air. “And what do you suppose will happen when she discovers your whereabouts? Teddy, you imbecile. Do you ever consider the consequences of acting on your impulses?”

“Occasionally!” Ted chirped back merrily, back to sporting his usual brightness. It made Felix sick . Honestly, the nausea Teddy had just brought to his stomach was almost a cause for concern. “What did the principal say to you?”

“Nothing more than you already heard from Penny,” Felix sniffed haughtily, averting his eyes as his fingers dug into their respective opposite arms. “She is infuriatingly adamant that I am unwell.”

“But Felix, you really are ill,” Teddy told him earnestly, something repulsively pleading slipping into his gaze. A Huxley did not beg . Felix scoffed audibly at the sight, the action grating painfully on his sore throat. "Think about it. You never fall asleep in class! Do you think maybe you're working too hard, or–?"

"Oh, I see how it is ," Felix's glare sharpened in an instant, his shoulders hiking up defensively. "The moment I display any form of weakness, you deem me unfit to act as heir! Your deceptions will not work on me, Teddy. I am entirely capable of fulfilling my duties, and you will not persuade me to neglect them for a fraudulent hypothetical disease!"

"No, Felix, wait," Teddy placated quickly, those round eyes widening further. Felix felt a sudden jolt of pain ricochet through his skull when his twin continued. "I'm not trying to criticise you! I just think it would be good for you to rest so you're not–"

“Not what , Teddy?” Felix near-snarled. He was growing more frustrated by Teddy's voice with each second that passed. His head throbbed dully, a steady pressure slowly crushing his cranium. Ted's useless suggestions were only feeding into the feeling. "Not working? Not recognised? Not respected? Not able to prove myself worthy? Hah! You cannot fool me! I am, and always will be, Father's favourite. And there is nothing you can do about it!”

The childishness in his voice was unintentional, but Felix couldn't take it back now. He stood his ground, chin held high, and tried to ignore the ringing pain in his brain. Ted sighed, clearly pretending to be upset. Felix rolled his eyes at the sight.

“I know.”

Felix paused. His eyes narrowed belatedly in suspicion, the chair behind him seeming to harden further as he stiffened atop it. “Excuse me?”

“You’re Father’s favourite,” Ted admitted with a shrug, entirely inoffensive and absurdly unbothered. Felix’s demeanour soured further at his brother’s innocuousness. What was Teddy playing at?! “And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“So you admit it!” Felix pressed further, trying to prod at the wound and gain a reaction. He’d had enough of being deceived. “You are a worthless excuse for a Huxley who–”

“I didn’t say that,” Ted shook his head, impossibly calm. Felix hated being interrupted. If looks could kill, Teddy would be 46.5ft underground by now. “I said you’re Father’s favourite. I’m happy for you! If I’m honest, I wish he would be proud of me too. But he’s not. And I’ve accepted that.”

“What are you getting at here?” Felix enquired, suspicion coating his voice. “That can’t be it .”

“I’m just saying I don’t want to compete with you,” the reply was simple, but the words carried more meaning than Felix could possibly process. For a moment, his brain buffered, that one simple message replaying on a loop. I don’t want to compete with you.  

“What sort of utter nonsense is that?!” Felix’s reply spilled from his mouth like water, fuelled by frustration at his lack of understanding. Felix was used to having the facts. Teddy’s argument made no sense , and the thought that Teddy was able to comprehend something that Felix couldn’t set his every hair on end.

“I’m worried about you,” Teddy continued, crestfallen and sincere. “You don’t look after yourself. You stay up all night doing tasks for Father, spend all day convincing yourself you hate our classmates, and miss meals in favour of working. It’s not healthy, Felix! You’re sick, and you need rest .”

“And how do you suppose Father will respond if I demand a break ?” Felix retorted scathingly, his voice hoarse with what surely had to be incredulousness. “I am his favourite because I have earned my value. I am only as worthy as I am useful, Teddy. If I compromise my usefulness, so goes any hope of approbation.”

“How do you suppose Father will respond if you fall asleep during supper, or class?” Teddy asked right back, clearly twisting Felix’s words in an attempt to reason with him. The anger bubbling in Felix’s gut turned to sickening dread, and he had a half mind to grab the trash can beside Ms Principal’s desk in case he began to heave. “You can’t work if your body shuts down on you. What use would you be if you stopped being able to hold a pen?”

That, Felix had to say, was– …A valid point. As certain as he was that he was not ill, there was no denying his work had begun taking a toll on him as of late. Begrudgingly sniffling once again, Felix bowed his throbbing head slightly, grimacing.

“Perhaps,” he relented, every word like sandpaper. “Your argument is not entirely moronic. Nonetheless, I doubt Father will be receptive to such a juvenile plight.”

“Then I’ll do it,” Ted offered immediately, not a hint of hesitation upon his face. “You rest, I’ll get your work done, and you can submit it to father!”

“You do not have even half of the experience necessary to understand my tasks,” Came the instinctive counter. “Besides, that would be a prime opportunity for sabotage. I do not trust your incompetence to do a good enough job.”

“Below average hand-ins are better than nothing at all, right?” Ted implored, his hands clasping in front of him. “Please, Felix?”

Only to cease the pain of Ted’s voice inside of his head, Felix responded with a reluctant nod. In seconds, Ted had let out something of an indistinguishable cheer and launched himself towards Felix’s chair. Felix straightened like a rod, alarm flashing in his eyes, only for Ted’s arms to wrap around him in a hug .

It was a quick exchange, too brief for Felix to properly comprehend before Ted was already pulling away again, beaming. “I won’t let you down, Felix! I promise!” Upon seeing the startled look frozen on his brother’s face, Ted let out a small gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to be so loud. I just thought–”

“It’s fine, Teddy,” Felix dismissed him wearily, sagging back into the uncomfortable chair.

“As long as you’re sure,” Ted looked at him, brow creasing in a flurry of excitement and worry as he placed a hand back on Felix’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, Felix. It’s okay if you don’t feel well. I can look after you!”

“I am not an infant, Teddy,” Felix bit out, shoving off Teddy’s loose grip. It took far more effort than he would’ve thought necessary, his muscles still plagued with that cursed lethargy. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I suggest you head back to class before the principal retur– wait one moment. What was your plan if she had still been in the room?!”

Teddy paused at that, tilting his head to think. “Hm. I didn’t really think that far ahead. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t… You know,” Ted winced, rubbing his arm. “I guess I would’ve just asked to go home with you?”

Sighing dramatically, Felix levelled his brother an admonishing look. “I will request that you be allowed to accompany me upon collection in exchange for my cooperation in leaving. I am sure our principal will be overjoyed at the opportunity to resolve this messy business. You know, she called me snotty! The absolute impudence of that woman–”

Ted giggled then, releasing an indecorous snort of his own. For once, Felix couldn’t find it in himself to be mad about the interruption.

“I’ll be in the classroom!” Ted promised, his whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Good luck, Felix! I hope you feel better soon.”

“Goodbye, Teddy,” Felix nodded him out with an air of long-suffering fondness, hearing the door shut once more with a click.

The newfound silence was a blessing to his pounding skull. (Felix couldn’t help but miss the sound of Teddy’s voice.)

4)

Having rightfully earned his place as Father's favourite, Felix was doing incredibly well. Expectations grew by the day, and he worked harder and harder to keep up with them even when it felt impossible. After all, Felix was a Huxley , and Huxleys never faltered. He remained diligent and uncomplaining as ever, working hard on his assignments and assisting his father with company matters,

However, regardless of his attempts to be perfect, there were far too many moments where Felix slipped up. Missed deadlines; miscalculated statistics; skipped suppers: Felix should not have been struggling as much as he was, but the evidence was irrefutable. He was failing.

So it was only right that his father punish him for it.

Felix loathed his every error, cursing himself for anything from minor misspellings to using incorrect cutlery in company. His father berated him firmly for each one, and Felix quickly found himself internalising the man’s words. He needed to do better. He needed to retain his place as heir. He could not allow himself to lose focus. He could not allow himself to fail.

As time passed, he grew used to the marks left by his father’s punishments. They were a reminder of all he had to lose, and Felix was grateful that Father had not yet given up on him entirely. The only issue lied in hiding them from those around him.

Useless and unconcerned, the faculty at Felix’s school was unlikely to take any sort of action regarding his injuries. His peers did not care for him, and there were few individuals who would ever dare call into question Mr Huxley’s parenting strategies– as was right, Felix was certain. On the other hand, one could never be too careful, and he had an image to maintain. Besides that, Felix couldn’t bear the thought of being judged for his failures, or seen as weak due to his marred features.

Most of the time, he did not need to worry. Father was a careful man, and smart enough to know where to hit. Felix appreciated his thoughtfulness and efficiency. Unfortunately, when Felix did something truly aggravating, his father’s control tended to waver, resulting in outbursts of furious violence that were much more difficult to mask.

Case in point, the bruise on his cheek. An unsightly shade of purple, it looked hideous and blotted, stark against his pale skin. Even to a Madison devoid of glasses, the sight would be impossible to miss. Felix’s stomach churned with preemptive humiliation at the thought of his classmates whispering about the blemish, and knew he had to come up with a solution.

Taking two weeks away from school was immediately off the table. As certain as Felix was that he could keep up with his studies at the mansion, the fact remained that Teddy needed supervision that only Felix could provide. It wouldn’t do to let him wander the halls alone like some sort of miserable outcast. No, Father had entrusted Felix with keeping an eye on Ted, and steering them both away from the rabble. Teddy would be more than lonely without him– he would be a wreck! Felix did not want his brother getting any ludicrous ideas. No, he would have to maintain his flawless attendance.

It did not take long for his sharp mind to find another solution. Brash and confident and excellent with a makeup brush, Felix’s new girlfriend would surely be able to help.

Before Cindy, Felix had never been… ‘Propositioned’ before, as she called it. Even in a business sense, his father was the man approached for such matters. In regards to the company, Felix was essentially a glorified unpaid intern. Still, if he proved himself now, he would surely secure his position as heir once and for all later on, so Felix did not protest his duties.

Busy as he was with work, he had little time to fraternise with his classmates. Truly, he hadn’t anticipated he would enjoy Cindy’s company in the slightest. Within a few minutes of meeting her, Father would surely be appalled by her. And yet, Felix was… Enamoured. With her mannerisms, her certainty, her strength of will. Cindy was the most unyielding girl he had ever met. It was really quite impressive.

Felix was more than happy to shower her with dazzling trinkets and sophisticated pet names in order to ensure she remained in his company. Dancing from partner to partner, Cindy never seemed partial to the idea of commitment. Felix would enjoy her presence while it lasted, and respect her when she inevitably moved onto her next boyfriend. As it was, Cindy invoked a strange sort of easy relaxation and contentment in him that Felix was otherwise a stranger to. In the face of her conviction, he could afford to let go a little.

Control was something Felix valued immensely, and yet, when Cindy tore it from him, he never found himself all too perturbed. It was almost soothing to give someone else the reins for a while. To stop snapping and bristling and defending and simply… Be.  

However, with the plentiful time they spent together, Felix soon began to notice the worrisome little details too. He offered his phone camera to her whilst she expertly dabbed Claire’s-brand blush onto her cheeks, his eyes catching on the unexpected falters of her wrist and the shine where her lip gloss covered cuts. Cindy loved to tell him about her cosmetics, describing her envy of her mother’s products and boasting of the times she’d managed to ‘borrow’ them. As little as he knew about the beauty industry, Felix understood her desire to imitate. He could also recognise a punishment when he saw one.

The voice message he sent to her was hesitant and cautious, its words unnaturally stilted and formal as he suggested they call one another. They had exchanged contacts mere days before, Cindy opening her blocky, glittering phone to show him her number. She was not yet able to read, but was hardly going to let an obstacle like that prevent her from doing as she wished.

Within minutes, his phone had begun to vibrate, and Felix hastened to answer the call.

“Cindy,” he greeted briskly, his voice clipped and businesslike despite the warmth emanating from it. “I would like to propose a–”

“Already?!” Cindy interrupted with a gasp, giggling that high, infectious laugh of hers. “My, my, how very forward of you!”

“Cindy, we are five.”

A pause. “...And?”

Felix sighed, grip on his phone tightening briefly then relaxing once more. “I wanted to ask if you can meet me before school tomorrow. Perhaps I could have the chauffeur drive Teddy and I to your house and collect you on the way there?”

“Like… A date ?” Felix could practically hear Cindy’s eyelashes fluttering.

“Yes,” he agreed effortlessly, a rare smile tugging at his lips– and thereby at the bruise on his cheek. Felix grimaced, the grin quickly falling in favour of a more neutral expression. “Like a date. Send me a voice recording of your address and I will arrive promptly at 8AM.”

“Okay!” Cindy replied brightly, far more agreeable than usual. Felix let out a small breath of relief. “See you then, future husband!”

The next morning, Teddy was curious as ever about Felix’s plans. After being informed that they would be taking a small detour, his questions had been incessant. Felix did his best to ignore them, facing resolutely away so as to hide his bruise. Thankfully, Teddy hadn’t yet commented on it, though Felix had noticed his brother’s gaze persistently trailing back to focus on the injury. Looking for a sign of weakness, no doubt.

“Where are we going?” Ted queried for what felt like the fiftieth time in a row. Felix huffed, folding his arms crossly.

“To collect Cindy,” Felix told him, voice final and frustrated. “I have asked for her assistance with something, and thus we are required to meet before school.”

“What is it?” The next irritating question beat against Felix’s ears. “A business deal?”

He hesitated, a small frown tugging at his lips. “She’s proficient in… Presentation,” Felix settled on delicately, hoping his vague answer would suffice. 

“Presentation?” Ted parroted, his nose scrunching. “Like… Public speaking? Or–”

“Oh, goodness me, how very fortunate. We’ve arrived,” Felix drawled, curtly opening his door and stepping gracefully out. Much to his chagrin, Teddy began to do the same. “What the devil are you doing, Teddy?!”

“Going with you!” Ted supplied brightly, then his smile dimmed a little. “Unless you want me to stay in the limousine…?”

“Fine,” Felix rolled his eyes, one set of fingers drumming against his arm as the other poorly covered his bruise. He did not have the mental capacity to debate with Teddy just then– and his nerves were frayed enough without the thought of admitting to his failures alone. Perhaps with Teddy around, his minor error would seem insignificant in comparison. After all, Ted was a walking disappointment. Felix was simply facing a few bumps in the road to perfection.

As he strode through Cindy’s broken front gate, Felix found himself critically surveying her unimpressive excuse for a garden. Dandelions and nettles sprouted in unsightly clumps, untrimmed grass wetting Felix’s polished black shoes with morning dew. There was no path to walk upon, so he traipsed unsteadily through the foliage instead.

Upon reaching Cindy’s door, he hesitated to knock. An obvious security camera above it had been smashed at the lens, a dirtied “Welcome Home” mat barely readable under his feet, and the wood of the door seemed eaten away by rot and decay. Nonetheless, Felix steeled himself, raised his fist, and rapped sharply three times in a row.

For a short while, there was quiet, broken only by the shrill birdsong in the overgrown  bushes and Teddy’s breaths beside him. Then, in a sudden flurry of movement, the creaking door was flung open, screeching tiredly against its hinges. Cindy stood there, her hair half-tied and her mouth set in a distinct pout.

“You’re early,” she pointed out, visibly put-out. At least, Felix thought, she wasn’t in her pajamas. “ Too early. I’m not ready yet!”

“My apologies, honeysuckle,” Felix ducked his head, hand still blocking half of his face. “Is it alright if we, ah, come inside? There is a rather urgent matter I would like to discu–”

“ We?” Cindy repeated, eyebrows raising. She noticed Teddy rather late (fair enough, really. Teddy was remarkably forgettable), but once she clocked his presence, she hastily began ushering them both inside.

The corridors of Cindy’s home were narrow and dim, not even a shoe rack in sight to house the various pairs of scattered high heels strewn about. A calendar was hung on the wall, displaying a date from two months prior, and Felix uneasily caught sight of a broken bottle of alcohol forgotten on the coarse crimson carpet.

Reaching Cindy’s room was a relief, and Felix found himself somewhat awed by the charming simplicity of it. The entire area was unbelievably pink , but unlike Cindy’s usual attention-grabbing shade, her bedroom was decorated in soft, sweet pastels. Fairy lights basked the small space in warm golden light, a sparse few plushies lined up on her bed and a collection of abandoned dog toys discarded upon the floor. Beanbag cushions, small shining seats, drawings hung up with blu-tac: it was simple, but nice. All in all, the space was cosy in a way the manor had never managed to be.

“So,” Cindy spoke again, her eyes sparkling. “What’s he doing here? Are you going to fight over me?”

She seemed positively giddy at the idea. Whilst Ted flushed bright red, Felix forced himself to remain patient, tugging awkwardly at his tie. “No, nothing like that. You see, I was rather hoping you might be able to use those… Cosmetic skills of yours.”

“Oh!” Realisation sparked in her eyes, but something about it didn’t look quite right. In a flash, Cindy had led them to her bedroom, grabbing a small bag and pulling out some sort of soft brush. She smirked, flouncing onto her bed. “I see how it is! You’ve figured out your true self, so now you’re getting your cute brother to fill in for you!”

“I beg your pardon?” “Cute?!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve always wanted a gay best friend!” Cindy continued cheerfully, opening a pack of eyeshadow. “I figured you might be a good option. Ooh, you know that boy with the purple hair? He is so crushing on you–”

“I am not gay!” Felix spluttered, feeling as though his ears were on fire. When Cindy levelled him a dubious, consoling stare, he tore his hand away from his cheek, revealing the bruising underneath. That time, the right sort of understanding dawned upon her face, quickly morphing into a quiet sort of sympathy. Felix felt his blood boil at the sight of it. “I did not come here looking for pity,” he snapped, perhaps a little too harshly. “I simply wish for assistance with masking… This .”

“Felix–” Ted began, his voice soft and reassuring. Felix could hardly bear the sound of it– and neither, so it seemed, could Cindy. She raised a hand to silence his brother, then moved closer to Felix to inspect his injury. She peered at it from every direction, scrutinising the mottle of damson and puce, before offering her judgement.

“One time, I played dress up as a nurse,” Cindy told him, worrying uncertainly at her lower lip. “But I’ve used up all my equipment since then. I will just have to be your glamour guide instead!” Her face steeled then, jaw setting in a way that was vaguely reminiscent of Teddy’s. To Felix’s surprise, he found himself glancing towards his brother for… Something, and finding an odd form of silent comfort in Ted’s gaze.

After Cindy set him down on a plastic pink chair, Felix watched her go about collecting what she called ‘concealer’ and ‘foundation’. To his mild amusement, Ted padded about after her in undisguised fascination, drinking in the sight of every new label and product.

“Your bruise is purple,” Cindy stated obviously, holding up her concealer. “So we’ll neutralise it with this yellowy-orange colour.”

“Peach,” Ted supplied, evidently trying to be helpful. Surprisingly, Cindy took well to the correction.

“Yeah! That!” She nodded, gently applying the concealer to Felix’s face. So caught up in the odd feeling of moisture upon his skin, Felix almost entirely missed the sensation of Teddy grabbing onto his hand. Unlike Father, the two’s touches did not aim to hurt, or to control. Cindy and Ted acted like he was something precious. Not as an ornament, but as a person. Felix forced back the choked lump that rose suddenly in his throat. “I only have one colour, and it’s a little darker than your skin, but I would say it looks fabulous .”

“Thank you, Cindy,” Felix forced out, his tone more wobbly than he expected. Despite his loathing of its waver, his dreaded voice refused to stabilise. Subconsciously, Felix found himself tightening his grip on Ted’s hand. “I appreciate you doing this for me. Truly.”

“Of course,” Cindy tossed her one completed ponytail, the rest of her blonde hair wispy and loose around her heart-shaped face. “I never get a chance to do anyone else’s makeup! You know, you don’t have to be gay for me to dress you up! If you ever change your mind about the eyeshadow–”

“No , thank you, Cindy,” Felix cut her off quickly, fighting back a smile that arose despite his aching cheek. “But if you ask Teddy here, I’m sure he would be much obliged to have your expert application.”

Caught off-guard, Ted started at the sudden attention, his head whipping up alertly. “Wait, I never agreed to–!”

“Perfect,” Cindy beamed, and Felix tried not to let the word burrow into his brain. In his peripheral vision, Felix saw Ted glance at him warily, evidently trying to discern his mental state. Felix would’ve scoffed. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t. “All done.”

Critically surveying the area she’d coated in product, Felix let a tentative smile onto his face. It was by no means a flawless job, but it was hardly as though anyone but him would be looking too closely. Suddenly, a thought struck him. “I hate to ask, but I don’t suppose you’d be willing to do this again, would you? I doubt the bruise will fade by tomorrow, and–”

“Take it,” Cindy interrupted him bossily, an out-of-place seriousness entering her expression as she held out her concealer.

Felix’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t possibly–”

“Give it back to me after your bruise is gone,” Cindy instructed, still prodding his chest insistently with the container. “But until then, ask your cute brother for help applying it. I know how–” She stopped herself, a brief glare passing over her face as she directed her eyes to the floor. “...No boyfriend of mind is going to walk around looking like that . Got it?”

“Got it,” Felix confirmed, his mouth feeling oddly dry. It was easy enough to piece everything together. Perturbed by Cindy’s sudden sullenness, Felix felt compelled to ask– “May I help you with your hair?”

Cindy blinked at him in astonishment, let out something of a joyful squeal, and rushed to the other side of her bedroom to retrieve her hairbrush. Felix chuckled fondly at the sight, feeling far more at peace than he had in a long while. To think he’d been so uptight upon arrival!

“Hey, Felix?” Ted leaned in closer, his hand still warm in Felix’s own. “Are you doing alright?”

For a moment, Felix felt compelled to let it all out. In the next, he remembered where he was and who he was talking to, and chose his words far more carefully. “I am managing,” Felix settled on, picking absently at his fingernails as he kept his voice quiet enough to be undetected by Cindy. “Father has not done anything to me that was not entirely deserved.”

“It’s not right,” Ted murmured back, his brow creasing sadly. “He shouldn’t hurt you.”

“I am not so incompetent that I am incapable of handling a spot of pain, Teddy,” Felix rolled his eyes, tensing again. “What’s done is done. I will simply do better next time. My goodness, you’re acting like I’m a vase .”

“Felix, I… I may not always understand, or know what to do,” Ted told him, the words seeming to be something of a struggle. Felix didn’t know why his brother was finding it so difficult; those were both facts Felix was already far too aware of. “But I love you. And if you ever feel… Sad, or hurt, or just– bad , then I’m only a few doors down. You know that, right?”

For a second, Felix’s mind was pulled back to older days. Whispered conversations and late night laughter, swapping toys and sharing blankets. Learning to read together, sitting in the nursery. Being content, without the rivalry or the bitterness or the desperate drive to prove himself. Forcing the memories back, Felix nodded hollowly. “Right.”

Ted’s hand remained a steady, comforting warmth in his own. Felix didn’t let go of it until the two of them separated to work on Cindy’s hair together. By the end of it, the pestersome ache of his cheek had been fully eclipsed by the utter fullness in his heart.

5)

Felix had long-since grown accustomed to the galas his family hosted; they were a prime opportunity for networking, and an excellent way to flaunt their riches. Despite being the owners of a company that earned millions, the Huxley name had always been whispered about for its... Respectable beginnings. Had it not been for Applesoft, they would be living a comfortable life: contented but not luxurious, secure but not lavish. Had it not been for Applesoft, the Huxleys would have done just fine.

And yet, with the money the company brought in, Felix's family name had been raised alongside the likes of the old money snobs his father so strived to impress, renowned for their riches and ruthless ambition. There was an element of performance in every gala, a need to prove themselves as worthy of their class and behaviour. Felix's worth was astronomical. It was only right that he be able to prove that.

However, outside of the objective advantages he saw, Felix had never been too partial to galas. So many people, all congregating in his home, sipping repugnant alcohol and making unbearably dull conversation. Felix was more than acquainted with entertaining himself. At a gala, he had to entertain others .

Much to Felix's relief, his parents handled the majority of associating with potential investors. Smooth in conversation and effortless in promotion, Mr and Mrs Huxley were masters of appearing superior and collected. Felix strived to be like that. Around the businessmen who scrutinised him like the dirt beneath their feet, Felix had a tendency to fumble.

His parents, thank the high heavens, had yet to notice his inadequacy in such an area, but that was just fine. This was the one area in which Felix would not begrudge being treated like a child. Rather than trusting him to sway upper class magnates towards endorsing Applesoft, Felix was assigned a much simpler task. All he had to do was keep the other heirs in line.

That, of course, included Teddy, who stayed loyally by Felix's side throughout every gala preparation. The maids set everything out, but Felix was the one supervising, making sure the entire hall was immaculate. Any imperfection was a stain on the family name, and Felix could not afford to disappoint.

When the gala began, Felix truly tried his best to remain engaged. He exchanged smiles as tight as they were polite, swapping pointless pleasantries and gripping cold, cruel hands in his own.

Falsity hung in the air, cloyingly sweet in a way that poisoned Felix's tongue. He was, of course, familiar with donning a suit, but this one seemed to cling to his undershirt like an especially persistent stain. The lights above were glamorous gold, the ornate tablecloths laden with caviar and truffles, and waltz music floated flippantly from high-tech hidden speakers.

His father, Felix knew, was trying far too hard. Loath as he was to criticise the man, even Felix was could recognise the absurdly performative nature of the event, even down to the dusting of the portraits on their walls. He surveyed it all from a corner of the hall, critically observing every meaningless conversation and piece of frivolous decor. Teddy lingered apprehensively at his side, worrying away at his lip in that undignified manner he was so prone to. Felix did not suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

"If you do not cease that incessant nibbling, you are going to draw blood," Felix warned, disapproval etched into the sharp sharp downturn of his brow. "Honestly, Teddy, one would hope you'd have more decorum. We're at a gala, for heaven's sake."

"Sorry, Felix!" Ted chirped back, the words familiar as breathing. "These sort of things always get to me. You can't tell me you're not a little nervous!"

"Of course not," "Felix scoffed, eyes flashing. The very idea was nothing short of scandalous. Quite frankly, it was insulting that Teddy would even dare to presume as such. "I 

am a Huxley. It's not my fault you're a–"

"Good-for-nothing disgrace to the family name, I know," Ted finished on his behalf. Rather than the dismay Felix would've relished to see, a resigned smile adorned his brother's face. "Try to relax, Felix. I'm pretty sure Ozzy's coming tonight!"

Pure, unabashed, unadulterated dread swept through Felix like a tsunami. "What," he gritted out, hands clenching painfully either side of him. "Did you just say?"

"Ozzy's coming," Ted repeated innocently, then recoiled at way his words amplified the despairing animosity his brother was radiating. Backtracking hastily, Ted threw his hands up in a haphazard gesture of placation. "I– I mean, its a possibility! That's all! And even if he does come, it's not like you have to talk to him, or–"

"No, Teddy, you fool," Felix tipped his head back, taking a deep, calming breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Father has designated me the responsibility of mingling with the other heirs. Including Ozzy."

"...Oh," Came the lame reply. Felix felt his blood boil at the sound of it. Before Ted had a chance to fumble any further, he turned on his heel and stalked away. Allowing his father to flaunt him like a prized trophy in front of the newest arrivals would be far preferable to staying around Teddy.

Tight and unfaltering, Mr Huxley's grip on Felix's shoulder was an unnecessary reminder to behave. Felix settled his mouth into a wooden grimace of a grin, his posture rigid and hands clasped neatly behind his back.

"–my son and hypothetical heir, Felix," The clipped voice forced Felix to pay attention to the fifth guest his father had introduced him to. Hypothetical heir, ever a reminder. It made his mouth bitter.

"Good evening," Felix nodded at the newcomer. Father hadn't deigned to shake her hand, sending a clear message; this woman wasn't worth touching. And so, Felix's hands too stayed behind his back, knuckles whitening as he tilted his head up to make eye contact. "We appreciate your presence at our gathering, ma'am."

"Please, call me Gwendolyn!" The lady laughed, high and fake and grating on his ears. It was vaguely harsh, Felix noted, its revolting rasp betraying the years of smoking her forcefully whitened teeth tried to hide. She turned to his father, pointedly raising manicured blonde eyebrows. "A well-mannered young thing, isn't he?"

"As is expected of a Huxley," An approving nod had Felix's shoulders relaxing ever so slightly, until that firm grip tightened minutely in warning and he tensed once more. "I expect him to keep up such behaviour all night."

"Very good," the woman mused, visibly losing interest. Dull, mascara-laden eyes trailed around, surveying the pristine walls and plates of hors d'oeuvres. "I shan't keep you too long, Richard."

"Enjoy your evening, Gwendolyn," Mr Huxley replied sternly. The lady was all too eager to do so, busying herself with the unimportant gossip of her peers.

The hushed hustle and bustle of the gala seemed to dim as the next partygoers walked in, and Felix's stomach sank. That shock of red hair was impossible to miss.

All dressed up in a quaint azure button-up, Ozzy truly had been made presentable. Felix was almost impressed. His eyes trailed slowly over the familiar features: a flurry of frizzy copper struggling to escape its gelled position, a sparse smattering of freckles across his nose, fidgeting fingers tapping against trousers that suited him unexpectedly well. A small pink flower was tucked neatly upon one lapel of his suit jacket. Resentfully, Felix silently wished he could've convinced Teddy to wear a green boutonnière of his own.

Felix wasn't... He didn't quite know how to feel about Ozzy. When in his presence, Felix found his face heating unpleasantly, his heart twisting in the confines of his ribcage as he forced stifled responses from numb lips. Ozzy's mother owned a company that rivalled Applesoft, and Applesoft was Felix's everything, so surely it was only natural that he would despise him. Doubtful as he was, that was the only logical conclusion: Felix hated Ozzy. Immeasurably so.

As their parents talked, Felix found his eyes locking onto Ozzy's. Glittering emerald hardened ever so slightly in contact with Felix's glare, suspicion edging onto those pale features. Ozzy desperately needed to acquire a better poker face–

"What a wonderful idea! The boys can keep each other company. I'm sure they'd be grateful for the chance to be around someone their own age."

...And Felix desperately needed to start paying attention to the conversations happening right in front of him.

"Run along, Felix," Mr Huxley ordered, his stare boring intensely into his son as the grip on Felix's shoulder finally vanished. "I'm entrusting you with entertaining Ms Wilson's son. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, Father," Felix agreed immediately, his voice even despite the churning of his gut. "Come, Ozzy."

Ozzy's distinctive sigh sounded behind him, but Felix soon heard footsteps follow as he strode away. A part of him wanted to mock Ozzy for not being able to keep up– to make some typical jab at his height with a smarmy grin to match. Felix stayed silent.

"So, Felix," Ozzy said behind him, and Felix found himself pausing against his will. They stopped either side of a bowl of punch, dark and sticky, filling a huge, delicate white bowl to the brim. "Your dad seems pretty uptight. What's his deal?"

"Nothing," Felix snapped back at him, bristling. "Father is a man worth ten of you. If you disrespect him, I will be letting him know."

"Jeez, you act like I was attacking him!" Ozzy rolled his eyes, nowhere near intimidated enough.

"A slight on one's character is infinitely more grievous than any harm your twiggish limbs could inflict," Came the heated retort, Felix whirling around to meet those infuriating emerald eyes. "And besides that, you're–" He faltered, lips pursing as his eyes widened. Felix stammered for a moment, meeting Ozzy's unimpressed gaze, then finally forced out, "...deplorable. Absolutely deplorable."

"I haven't done anything!" Ozzy exclaimed indignantly, his hair seeming to frizz further at his exemplified state of agitation. "You Huxleys think you can be rude to whoever you want– I'm sick of it."

"And I am sick of you ," Felix seethed back. He took another long, relaxing breath, then felt a sardonic smile spread across his face as easily as a knife through butter. "My word, Ozzy, you truly are a puzzle. Quite the hypocrite, considering all you've said thus far. It would truly be a shame if someone were to... Oh, I don't know... Ruin your family name?"

Wariness crossed those pale features, the scrunching of that galaxy of freckles briefly distracting Felix from his loathing. "What are you talking about?" Ozzy asked, the doubtful distrust in his voice clear at day.

"Nothing, nothing," Felix replied mildly, taking a step closer. "Simply reminding you that my family name holds immeasurable value, and these partygoers are such gossips. It's easy for... Misinformation to spread. We wouldn't want anyone withdrawing their investments in your company, would we ?"

Ozzy's face went disconcertingly blank at that. "...You think I care about my mom's company?"

Felix blinked bemusedly right back at him. "...Yes?" He guessed cautiously.

"I mean, sure, it's nice to have money," Ozzy shrugged, fidgeting with his lapels. "But the company's my mom's thing. Managing it seems way too unpredictable. I don't even know if I want to inherit it."

"Don't... What?" Felix asked weakly, his mind seeming to buzz with static. The concept of rejecting one's position as heir had always been unthinkable. Applesoft was Felix's everything . The blasé attitude with which Ozzy regarded his own company was... Disturbing, to say the least.

"Are you, uh... Good, Felix?" Came that wretched voice once again. Felix felt his fingers tremble with– with hatred, always hatred, it had to be hatred – at the sound of Ozzy's concern. "You look a little pal–"

"I am just delighted ," Felix hissed at him, delightfully. "I am not the one disgracing my family. Anyone would be ashamed to have a son like you. Can't even handle a flower, let alone a business!"

"Now you're just being unnecessary," Ozzy deadpanned back at him, nose crinkling distastefully.

"Don't patronise me!" Felix cried out, fists shaking with fury. "I refuse to be criticised by someone of your calibre. You are a– a nobody ! I, on the other hand, am a Huxley , and I refuse to entertain your presence any longer!"

"If I'm remembering right, that’s exactly what your dad told you to do," Ozzy pointed out. The simple statement sent ice pooling in Felix's gut. "Aren't you the one who'd get into trouble for leaving?"

Felix had moved before he even realised what he was doing, stalking towards Ozzy until they were only a centimetre apart. Eyes narrowing spitefully, Felix jabbed a finger right into Ozzy's chest, their noses close to touching.

"You know nothing of my father," Felix insisted, feeling his chest heat with livid odium. The hiss of his voice was barely above a whisper. "And even less of his trust in me. I will take over Applesoft, come into millions, and then you will be sorry ."

"Sorry for you, maybe," Ozzy didn't lean away, meeting his glare with cool disfavour. "Maybe I should tell your father. Then I could see for myself if you're telling the tru–"

In one short push, Felix shoved Ozzy away from him. The boy stumbled backwards, barely avoiding slipping. For a moment, his face was painted with alarm. Then, it settled once again, and Ozzy looked angry .

Felix was used to handling anger. Why, the unbridled hatred on Ozzy's face was what he'd been wanting . And yet, in the face of that resentful scowl, he felt his feet freeze fruitlessly in place.

Ozzy said something Felix couldn't quite catch over the roaring in his ears, and the next thing he knew, Felix felt as though he was flying.

Not flying. Falling .

His stomach plummeted, arms flailing far too late. His fist caught on the tablecloth behind him, dragging it down with him– and causing the punch bowl to plummet. Felix barely had time to brace himself before the liquid drenched him, staining his pristine suit purple.

For a moment, Felix was frozen.

Dizzied and undignified upon the floor, the weight of a thousand eyes boring into him, Felix brought a distant hand to his face. Silence enveloped the hall, heads turning and mouths whispering. At the very end of the room, Felix saw his father.

The moment Mr Huxley took a step forward, Felix scrambled to his feet, and ran.

The pounding of his footsteps beneath him sounded like the thrum of a funeral drum, Felix feeling far too hot and freezing cold all at once. His face burned scarlet, eyes stinging uselessly as ragged breaths tore from his throat. Felix hardly noticed the unpleasant stickiness of his clothes as he ran, blindly navigating his way to a room far, far away from the gala.

Felix threw open a familiar door, leaving it ajar as he slumped against a nearby wall. He tucked his knees up to his chest, loathing the humiliation coursing through his red hot veins, and shivered at the feeling of punch dripping down his back.

He was going to stain the carpet. Felix fought the urge to cry.

This was all Ozzy's fault. Ozzy, with his stupid star-shaped freckles and his stupid copper hair and his stupid emerald eyes. Felix hated him, now moreso than ever.

So caught up in his heated mortification, Felix hardly noticed when the door was nudged further open, tentative steps heading towards him. Upon registering his visitor's presence, however, Felix stiffened like a board. As undeniably humiliating as his fall had been, nothing would be more horrible than a guest– or worse, Father – seeing him in this state as a result.

"...Felix?" A familiar voice called out, immediately halting Felix's frantic attempts to wipe away his tears.

Felix felt his heart skip a beat. He paused for a moment, desperately composing himself, then resumed his panicked scrubbing with immensely heightened and hastened vigour.

"Teddy," Felix greeted back hollowly. Hoarse and subdued, Felix's voice was a disgrace to even to his own ears. Resentment bubbled in his chest, and he half-heartedly bit out, "what, have you come here to gloat?"

"Why would I do that?" The bewilderment in Ted's voice was too potent to be faked. Felix was sure that if he allowed himself to look up, he'd be able to drink in every indication of puzzlement on his brother's expression. Perhaps in a different state, Felix might've felt obliged to berate Ted for his ignorance.

" Because ," Felix emphasised, voice dripping with condescending scorn to mask the way it was shaking. "You have won. Father will not want a public embarrassment for an heir. His respect will be designated to you alone, and I will have nothing. I will be ... Nothing."

"You think Father will–!" Ted cut himself off, but Felix had already heard the condemning hope in his twin's tone.

Ted had always strived to be recognised and appreciated, and Father's respect was the most evasive of all. Felix couldn't blame him for it, not really. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.

"Go on, rejoice!" Felix encouraged sardonically, finally exposing his bloodshot eyes to level Ted a weary glare. "Enjoy the attention while it lasts. Goodness knows you'll do something to repulse our family soon enough. This is your five minutes of fame."

"Don't say... Look, Felix, you're being irrational," Teddy said cautiously, every word careful not to crack the eggshells he was stepping upon. "I'm sure Father doesn't hate you! You're still the most promising heir. One little gala isn't going to change that. Don't you think you're being a little... I don't know, overdramatic?"

"Overdramatic?!" Felix squawked, pushing himself to his feet. His face burned with righteous injustice, his reddened nose turning up indignantly as he faced Ted head-on. "This is my future, Teddy! My life! I have been perfecting the public's perception of me since the moment I knew what the public was, and now all of my efforts have been rendered purposeless! I'm a laughing stock!"

"I don't think you're a laughing stock," Ted said quietly, unmoving. At that, Felix snorted.

“Oh please , like your empty reassurances are worth anything to me,” he rolled his eyes, hating the way they itched and burned. He shifted slightly, feeling a droplet of punch roll down his back and suppressing the shiver that followed. “When directed from one disappointment to another, comfort is nothing short of meaningless.”

Teddy’s brow furrowed minutely, a flash of hurt beating across his face before vanishing with haste. Something in Felix’s gut twisted, something he’d buried long ago. His scowl intensified as the sadness on Ted’s face melted, morphing into that same frustrating resolution as usual.

“Being a disappointment to Father doesn’t make you worthless, Felix,” Ted lied, like a liar. Felix had always despised his brother’s naivety. It made him weak , and weakness was something Felix had lost all tolerance for years ago. “And even if it did , you still have me, right?”

“How perfectly underwhelming,” Felix drawled back, trying to appear dignified despite the inherent dishevelment of his state. “As usual, Teddy, you are wrong . Father’s approval is infinitely more valuable than your input. Really, I have no reason to listen to a single word you say.”

“You’re my brother,” Ted argued, his face full of soft determination. “And I care about you. It must have been… Pretty humiliating, back in there.”

Felix’s scowl deepened, sharp and unpleasant. “Go ahead and rub salt into the wound, why don’t you? I hardly have much else to lose.”

“That’s not what I– Felix ,” Voice hardening, Ted looked at him with newfound seriousness and exasperation. Such solemnity was entirely uncharacteristic, and Felix found himself paying attention against his will. “It sucks that you fell over, but accidents happen! Besides, you know what the people at Father’s galas are like. They’ll mutter about it for a few weeks, then forget about it entirely!”

“That, or I’ll forever be remembered as the punch boy ,” Felix lamented, even more morose as he began to consider the long-term consequences of his faux pas. He huffed, wishing he could drape himself against the nearest wall. His damp clothes were thoroughly prodding at his already frayed nerves. “Besides, I did not fall .” He paused dramatically, locking eyes with Ted. “I was pushed .”

“What?! By who ?” Eyes widening, Ted leaned forwards. There was something equal parts shocked and invested in his gaze. “Ozzy?!”

“ Yes , Teddy, you dimwit,” Rolling his eyes, Felix felt his face heat up further. “Ozzy and I got into something of a spat . An insignificant quarrel, truly. He elected to escalate our row to… Well. It was an action born of idiocy and impulsivity, and I despise him wholeheartedly for such a colossal lapse of judgement.”

“So it was like… A domestic dispute?” Ted guessed, that same infuriatingly knowing look in his eyes. 

“I beg your pardon?!” Outraged and perplexed, Felix felt his shoulders hike up to his ears. “What the devil are you on about, Teddy?!”

“Nothing, nothing!” Ted placated, entirely unconvincing. As much as Felix desired to scrutinise his brother’s meaning further, exhaustion clung to his bones, heavy as the curtains in Father’s study. When Ted spoke again, his voice was disconcertingly soft. “Are you okay, Felix?”

Felix froze for a moment, picking absently at his punch-stained sleeve. “...Tch,” he said finally, glancing away. “I will be fine, Teddy. I am not about to let the likes of Ozzy triumph over me.”

Ted nodded, his eyes sweeping over Felix in a gesture that seemed far too sympathetic. Felix fought the urge to shudder under the scrutiny, keeping his head held high and his teeth gritted. Finally, Ted met his eyes again. “You should get cleaned up.”

Felix jolted, glancing down at his shirt. “Ah,” he said lamely, swallowing. “I suppose you’re right. It wouldn’t do for any of the guests to see me like this.” Bitterness rose in his throat, sour and sharp. “ Again. ”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Ted told him, leading the way out of his bedroom. He hadn’t yet brought up the stained floor. If Ted had gotten punch in Felix’s room, there would have been far more serious a consequence. The nonchalance was almost unsettling. “Even if the gala attendees do remember seeing you like this, what’s the worst that’ll happen? A few snobs will snicker behind your back? You’re still the heir to Applesoft! You’re untouchable. You’re important,” Ted’s hand halted on the bathroom door, something fragile and hesitant crossing his face. “And you’re my brother. That counts for something.”

Felix felt that awful, cloying warmth shoot back through his heart, a rush of familial endearment that he truly did not need just then. “I assure you,” he tried to snap, though the vitriol was gone. A hollow sort of weariness replaced it, half-hearted and dull. “It counts for very little.”

“...No.”

Face slackening with shock, Felix’s stare flashed upwards towards the back of Teddy’s head. “ No ?” He echoed, the word foreign and affronted on his tongue.

“No,” Ted confirmed, opening the door and stepping swiftly inside. He turned to face Felix, resolute as he was passionate, and Felix could do nothing but join him within the bathroom. “It counts for everything. We’re blood , Felix. It’s you who always talks about the importance of the family name. I’ve always been here for you. I always will be. That means a lot more than what anyone out there thinks about you.”

“I am the heir ,” Felix reminded him harshly, shutting the door with practiced strength. Father would despise the sound of a slam, but it was looked upon favourably to move about life with the same firmness one would apply to a handshake. “The public perception of me is incomprehensibly important. You are just too naive to recognise that!”

“You’re always so concerned with what Father thinks, with what they think about you,” Ted argued back, his shoulders stiffening. His face was rapidly turning bright pink– the same shade of off-scarlet it always acquired whenever Teddy got emotional about something. Felix would’ve taken a step back if he had anywhere to go. “Do you even know what you think of yourself ? Or are you just waiting for someone to tell you?”

Felix faltered against his will, jaw tightening as he struggled for a response. Teddy growing a backbone was far from what he’d anticipated, and caught up in his humiliation as he was, Felix was far from in the best state to indulge his brother in an argument.

Undeterred by Felix’s uncharacteristic silence, Ted continued. “You don’t have to be perfect, Felix. I know that it feels like you do, but I promise, you matter regardless of what any old billionaire thinks about you! You’re smart, and you’re confident, and dedicated, and you’re– you’re you. That’s worth a lot. And– and if Father can’t see that, then it’s his loss.”

After his little speech, Ted was left even more red in the face. His expression stayed locked in determined righteousness, not an inkling of regret seeping into the firm line of his lips. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the movement, and awaited Felix’s response.

Eloquence finally returned to Felix’s mind, and he managed to say, “I suppose I ought to thank you for the unsolicited sermon, Reverend Teddy. You’ve made your point quite clear. But I have a reputation to salvage.” Mustering up a glare took far more effort than usual, and it visibly lacked the venom Felix was so fond of– but if he was going to repair his image, he might as well start keeping up appearances now.

Rather than returning Felix’s lacklustre facsimile of a glower, Ted offered a resigned half-smile, his eyebrows knitting ever so slightly closer together. “Suit yourself, Felix. But for what it’s worth, you don’t have to do it alone.”

Silence hung in the air, crackling electricity seeming to spark across every particle. Despite the undeniable tenseness, it was as though the honesty of their argument had acted as a soothing balm to the clumsy awkwardness of the brothers’ every other interaction over the last few months. For once, Felix felt as though there were no major secrets burrowing under his skin, no unsaid words to resound back at him in bed, no false pretenses to obscure his face with shadow. Whether it was an undesirable change or a pleasant one, he could not quite discern.

“I’ll fetch you some clothes,” Ted’s offer broke the charged quiet, a newfound buzzing under his words. “And, uh… Leave you be.” When Felix supplied no response but to step away from the door, Ted approached it with near-inaudible footsteps. He hesitated, then looked back at Felix. “I’m sorry the party didn’t go well.”

“...Thank you, Teddy.”

The next time Felix opened the door, he found a pair of pajamas waiting for him. They were a matching set with Teddy’s, one they’d received from some distant relative the Christmas prior. After putting them on and silently sneaking an undetected glance into his brother’s room, Felix saw that Ted was wearing his pair too.

…Tch. That fondness really needed to die down sometime soon.

+1)

Dinner parties, Felix had to say, tended to be a highly enjoyable experience. Not only was he given an opportunity to boast his wealth and attract new investors, but since being officially bestowed the title of Applesoft heir , his social desirability had risen exponentially. Felix was charming and suave, and the people around him clung to his every word. He lavished in the company of people who would never dare defy him, and ate a fine, expensive meal with all of the correct cutlery.

Yes, Felix loved dinner parties. Basking in the unchallenged attention of a group of select acquaintances was an excellent way to spend his evening, and he was certain that his most recent gathering was going to be just as successful as ever. His only true gripe was that he’d needed to invite Teddy.

Only a select few important connections were permitted to dine at his table, the most distinguished and influential of all. As much as Felix may have despised his brother, Teddy did, unfortunately, fall into that category. He was polite, and well-respected, and powerful– and worst of all, his absence would be questioned if permitted to go forth. Felix could just lie about the matter (after all, he was no stranger to playing fast and loose with the truth), but deception was always such a needlessly sticky affair. Felix didn’t particularly like any of his guests. Teddy would behave, and his attendance would prevent Felix from dealing with any hypothetical accusations of dishonesty.

Teddy’s invitation was just as impersonal as his fellow guests’: a printed letter with Felix’s looping golden signature at the bottom, identical to the other dozen he’d made. Each letter had been placed in a smooth cream-coloured envelope, sealed with purple wax, and labelled with a first class stamp before being sent off. All in all, it was an easy enough task, and Felix waited triumphantly for the night of his party.

He did not waste time in preparing his house, hanging tinsel on the walls and setting up a pine tree in the far corner of his dining room. Felix cared little for classic Christmas traditions, but there was something pleasant about being able to play into the ambience of the holiday. Felix dressed in his typical dark blue, accentuating his collar and cuffs with frosty white, and slicked his hair neatly to the left in preparation.

The table looked grand, various knives and forks laid out in their appropriate positions, and while Felix had neglected to add crackers, he doubted anyone but Teddy would be disappointed. Bottles of white wine were ready to be opened in the kitchen, and his hired help had prepared a plentiful supper for everyone. 

Since moving into his own mansion, Felix had relished the sense of independence that flooded him. He was able to give as many orders as he liked, do whatever he pleased, without having to immediately answer to anyone for it! To call his situation ‘refreshing’ would be a drastic understatement. Everything was just to his liking, and Felix was truly quite pleased.

He greeted each guest by the door, his hands clasped primly behind his back every time a welcoming handshake ended. Felix could tell a lot about someone from their handshake. Some were deceptively dainty, sharp painted nails pressing delicately into the top layer of his skin. Some were tight to the point of bruising, desperate to establish dominance with direct effect. Others were a firm sort of calculated, cold and efficient. Felix had spent hours ensuring he fell into the third category. It wouldn’t do to leave a bad first impression, after all.

Shallow greetings were exchanged without incidence, and Felix correctly identified every one of his guests! Truly, it was quite the feat. He was unused to remembering any unimportant details like another’s title or name, but in this situation, he managed flawlessly. Really, he was rather proud of himself. It looked like the evening was going to go swimmingly.

Then, Teddy walked in, and Felix’s easy jubilance slipped from his grasp in seconds.

He was never quite sure how to act around Teddy anymore. Upon moving out of the manor, the two of them had parted on… Relatively good terms. Stifled, yes, but there was little bad blood between them. Felix hadn’t spoken to his brother in months. He wondered how Teddy had been faring.

“Good evening, Teddy,” Felix greeted stiffly, offering a handshake just as he had everyone else. It was quickly reciprocated, though Felix did not miss the brief spot of hesitation before Teddy’s warm hand made contact with Felix’s own.

“Hi, Felix,” The reply was soft, laced with tentative hope and jocundity. “It’s been a while.”

“Hm. So it has,” Felix confirmed, retracting his hand and wiping it idly on his trousers. He could tell how hard an effort Teddy was making to suppress the crestfallen frown creeping onto his face. For some reason, the sight left him feeling nothing but emptiness. “The dining room is just down the hallway. I will join you shortly.” 

Felix nodded his head shortly towards the direction in question. It was a clear dismissal: one Ted recognised with far more poise than Felix had anticipated. They parted ways, and Felix moved onto the next guest. In time, the entire party had arrived, everyone gathered around a long, rectangular dining table. Naturally, Felix was positioned at its head.

It was easy enough to make light conversation as the meal commenced, Felix sharing vague information about Applesoft and reminiscing on his more formative years with false fondness. He slipped a couple of subtle, lighthearted jibes directed at Teddy into the discussion, smirking smugly when his brother laughed awkwardly along. 

It was… Odd, acting so cordial towards Ted despite Felix's confirmed superiority as the sole heir. Everything Felix had dreamed of, everything he’d strived for, had all led up to where he was just then. And yet, the idea of boasting his victory in company unsettled something within him, sending a twinge of uncertainty through his typically unshakeable demeanour.

 “Yes, I recall discussing your existence with your father prior to the birth,” one bespectacled businessman mused, his voice high and nasally. His pinched features contorted gruesomely into some semblance of a smile, wrought with superiority and exposing rows of far too white teeth. “He had not been anticipating two of you. ”

“Double the opportunity to find a fitting heir!” A lady with tall, dark hair added, her painted face just as fake as the marvel in her grating voice. When she spoke again, her words came out in something of a jangling purr, her eyes trailing across Felix's pristine suit and gleaming like silver coins. “It appears his endeavour was highly successful.”

Felix ought to have preened under her approval, he knew. This was everything he'd ever dreamed of! And yet, the adjustment of his collar was clunky and forced, the practiced grin he sported positively oozing discomfort. As respectable as his guests may have been, Felix had to admit, they were far from the most pleasant individuals to dine with. Why, even Teddy alone would make for preferable company! 

“So, what are you, exactly?” Another gentleman enquired, leaning towards Teddy. Two beady black eyes bore into Teddy's pair of disconcerted sapphire, a mean-spirited chortle, tar-like and sticky, clinging to the stifling air. “The untrained butler, perhaps?”

Ted flushed visibly, scarlet creeping across his face like a droplet of ink in water. He attempted a laugh, though the sound was weak and unconvincing. Felix said nothing as he saw the guests’ eyes sharpen at the hint of discomposure, everyone's focus shifting to Teddy. “Oh, no, nothing like that,” Teddy reassured the gentleman, rubbing the back of his neck in the manner he was so prone to when anxious. “I’m still a part of the family! I just–"

 “Ah, of course,” the man nodded knowingly, the gesture infested with condescension. “You’re the spare!” 

Stricken and dismayed, Teddy stayed silent at that. He did not dispute the claim, nor did he affirm its validity. Unfortunately, his lack of a response only confirmed the partygoers’ suspicions, firmly cementing their view of him as the failure . Felix ought to have been delighted, joyously indulging in the opportunity to establish himself as the family success. Instead, he felt bile sting the back of his throat, and tried to ignore the entirely inconvenient guilt arising in the pit of his stomach.

“In that case,” another woman spoke, calculated and searching. Surprisingly, her attention was not on Teddy, but rather her host. Whilst Felix had been adamantly avoiding his brother's despairing gaze, it seemed she had clocked onto Felix’s own. “I am stunned by how remarkably easy it would be for the heir to be replaced.”

In one short sentence, Felix felt the fragile illusion of his idealistic life fragment for good. 

He had convinced himself years ago that he could best Teddy without permanently cutting his brother out of life, and yet, the threat remained even now, just below the surface. Attempting to envision a world without Teddy conjured nothing but alien images. Imagining a future where Teddy took his place sent ice rushing through Felix's veins.

Business-savvy and perceptive, Felix's guests were the best of the best. To hear them recognise Teddy as a threat to Felix's authority was dismally condemning. For years, Felix had dismissed his concerns as idleness and paranoia, certain that his dedication and skill would be more than sufficient to secure his position within the company. Now, his head swam with a thousand frothing hypotheticals, his sudden catastrophizing acting as a battering ram against the protective dam within Felix's mind.

He could feel his face pale, the blood draining from it as his eyes stretched open to an almost comical degree. He should've been above such remarks by that point, long-since desensitised to any attempts to get under his skin. Instead, he choked on nothing, a weighted, disturbing silence settling upon the group. At first, nobody moved.

Then, to Felix's immeasurable gratitude, a butler brought over a tray of drinks, and the man beside Felix sent a sweeping glance over them. He then selected one and took it into his white gloved hand, peering down at the liquid and stirring it smoothly. “Here,” he said urgently, pressing the glass to Felix's fingers with an odd look in his eye. “The host ought to receive his glass first.” The coolness of the glass against his skin forced Felix back to reality, and he simply stared for a moment before snapping abruptly out of his reverie.

“Ah,” he coughed awkwardly, face heating significantly. Felix dipped his head in acknowledgement, taking a quick, measured sip. “Thank you.”

There was something indiscernibly bitty about the liquid, tiny particles scratching against the roof of his mouth like grains of sand. It was overwhelmingly fruity, acrid sweetness coating Felix's tongue as the drink glided effortlessly down his throat. The sharp tang of alcohol was one he’d grown quite used to over the years of galas, but that did not make its burn any less intense. The beverage was not the most enjoyable he’d ever consumed, but in the face of the party’s newfound stagnancy, at least swallowing it provided Felix with something to do.

After he’d taken a sip, the atmosphere seemed to relax slightly, tension fading in favour of returning the buzz from earlier. Slowly but surely, Felix found himself able to relax, shrugging ff his suit jacket when the heat of the room began getting to him. The stark white glow of his chandelier cast the room in wintry light, and he allowed the unimportant conversations to wash over him. When the opportunity arose, Felix flaunted his most recent successful business pursuits, emphasising how swimmingly Applesoft’s affairs were being managed since he came into power.

However, as time passed, Felix felt something shift in his gut. Sharp pain hit his abdomen, twisting and burning as though Felix had been stabbed. Despite his discomfort, it seemed like an irrelevant detail to bring up in conversation, so he let the matter lie, smiling through the unpleasant sensation. Nausea pricked at the back of his throat, and Felix swallowed the onslaught of saliva that pooled in his mouth, following it with another swig of his drink. Surely he wasn’t that incapable of handling a little alcohol? If his staff had somehow gotten the manor into a state where Felix would’ve gotten sick , someone was going to get fired.

When the food arrived, Felix did his best to hide his dread. The thought of stomaching anything just then was nothing short of repulsive, but he gritted his teeth and nodded at the butlers with practiced grace. Plentiful dishes were slid onto golden placemats, a large gravy bowl positioned at the centre of the table as Felix watched from the head.

“Well?” The tall-haired woman prompted suddenly, entwining her fingers atop the table. Felix’s attention snapped to her, alertness and a twinge of guilt seeping into his gaze. He’d truly been slipping on his host duties as of late– and he had no clue what the devil she was waiting for. “Is our host not going to lead us in a toast?”

“Yes, of course,” Felix smoothed over his expression, taking his glass in hand once more. His muscles felt oddly weak beneath him, legs seeming to tremble unnaturally in a way Felix attributed to nerves. He had no reason to be concerned. After all, Felix was an expert at controlling himself. The visible unsteadiness of his grip was nothing but an anomaly in the face of his usual perfection.

Felix’s eyes swept over the guests once more. The dark-haired woman straightened her spine as he stood, the bespectacled man checked his watch pointedly, the calculating lady placed a preparatory hand around her drink, the beady-eyed gentleman watched him intently, Teddy’s brow furrowed in a way Felix recognised immediately, and the half a dozen other faces all blurred into one. He took a deep, shaking breath, doing his best not to draw focus onto his gentle reliance on the table to stand.

Dismissing the sweat prickling at the skin of his neck as nerves, Felix began to talk. “It is my honour and… Privilege to share the company of each and every one of you this evening. Such parties as these are a fine opportunity to maintain strong connections between our businesses, and… And I…” Felix’s tongue slowed in his mouth, tripping clumsily over his words. He paused, swallowing again, and forced himself to continue. “I am sure that our companies may continue to prosper long into the new year. I would like… To make a toast. A toast to… Success. To a bright future, and–... And…”

A wave of dizzying nausea struck Felix over the head, stars erupting across his vision as his stomach twisted awfully. Amidst the dark static obscuring his eyes and mind, Felix distantly felt himself begin to sway. His head felt hot , rushing and pressured and spinning more quickly than he could comprehend.

“Oh dear,” he murmured, his slurring voice blending into the ringing of his ears. 

And with that, Felix crumpled .

***

Horrified, Ted watched as his brother collapsed to the floor, folding in on himself like a puppet whose strings had been cut. For a moment after the shattering of Felix’s cup, the room fell silent, the murmured conversations and clinking of glasses silenced. It almost felt as though the space had been preserved in time, a frozen stillness enveloping it completely.

“Felix!” Ted’s voice broke the shocked quiet, high and panicked. His chair screeched as he stood, Ted scrambling to approach his brother’s supine form. 

Pallid and greyish, Felix’s face had accumulated a few drops of glistening sweat, his breaths shallow and uneven. Ted’s trembling hands hovered uncertainly over his twin, unsure of what to do next. Should he wake him? Ted didn’t want to cause any further harm. He didn’t even know what was wrong. The sudden fear that came with being thrust into the deep end sent a shiver down his spine.

“Someone needs to call 911!” Ted demanded, his voice on the verge of cracking as he glanced wildly around the room. Felix was so still . Ted’s brother was never supposed to look like that.

The reaction was chillingly indifferent. A couple of guests exchanged terrifyingly amused glances, a few muttering to each other as though observing nothing more dire than the day’s weather. The sight made Ted’s heart spike in his chest.

“No need to be so dramatic,” one man drawled snootily, pushing his spectacles further up the bridge of his nose. He swirled the drink in his glass lazily, looking down at Felix with thinly veiled disdain and contempt. “The boy is still breathing, is he not?”

Another chimed in, his tone dismissive. Ted felt distaste twist roughly within him at the sight of the man. It was the same who had called him the ‘spare’ earlier on, callous and cutting. “He’ll recover. Or he won’t. Either way, it’s not our concern.”

Ted stared at them, his mouth gaping ever so slightly open in utter disbelief. “Not your concern? He’s– he’s dying ! You can’t just stand there!” 

“You know, Theodore,” a woman spoke then, sharp-faced and tall. There was something predatory in her voice– something that set every one of Ted’s exposed nerves on edge. “Perhaps this could work out in your favour.”

“I– what?!” Ted rasped out, feeling as though she’d just dumped a bucket of cold water atop him. 

“Don’t try to convince me you’ve never considered it before. With your dear brother out of the picture, you’re next in line to inherit Applesoft,” the woman continued, her intense, dark eyes boring into him. Her voice was smooth, unshaken. It reminded Ted of honey over a razor blade. “This is quite the opportunity. Applesoft needs a head, and you could fulfil that position. Of course, you will need a little help navigating the complexities of business–”

“I’m not– I don’t want your advice !” Ted spluttered, appalled. As much as he’d longed to be recognised and validated, he knew there were larger matters at stake. For example, the brother actively dying in front of him. It had been years since Ted had fantasised guiltily about what would happen if he took Felix’s place. He wasn’t going to recommence the habit now.

“But you need it,” another man said eagerly, flint glinting in the dark pools of his irises. “This is your chance, Theodore! It isn’t as though anyone cares about that sad old chap. From what I gather, Felix has always treated his staff as tools – only natural, but ineffective in garnering affection. I suppose they’re all as apathetic as we are. And you… Well, you’re quite the open book, are you not? Easy to guide, so to speak.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ted denied, sticking his chin up. Felix twitched a little before him, his slack expression contorting in pain. Ted winced at the sight.

“Don’t play the fool,” the dark-haired woman rolled her eyes, looking critically over Felix before focusing back on Ted. “You want success , everyone does. And we could help you! Make sure you’re… Supported. Applesoft’s resources could multiply tenfold under the right guidance: our guidance. Your brother’s toast may come to fruition sooner than you think. All you need to do is step into the role you were born for , Theodore.”

“Absolutely not!” Declined Ted, his fear giving way to anger. “My brother’s collapsed , and all you’re thinking about is money! Why would I ever listen to you?! ” He scoffed in a way that was remarkably Felix , taking even himself by surprise. Ted steeled himself, cursing himself for his inaction and useless arguing thus far. “You’re all a bunch of– of vultures! If none of you are going to help, I’ll call the ambulance myself.”

“You’ll regret this,” the bespectacled man swore, puffing up like an aggravated parakeet. The other businessmen looked incredulous. “You’re throwing away a perfectly advantageous business proposition!”

That, Ted decided silently, was far preferable to throwing away his brother’s life.

He stayed with Felix even as the guests slowly trailed out, either losing interest or wanting to leave before the authorities arrived. Felix would know exactly who had been at that party. Then, they would see if anything foul had been afoot. If any of them knew something Ted didn’t, about Felix’s stresses, or any drug usage, or– or–

…Or poison .

Felix’s skin was feverishly warm, but that was at least a reassurance that he was still alive. Ted gripped tightly onto his brother’s hand– one of them was clammy, but Ted couldn’t quite decipher whose. The ambulance was taking far too long . Terror writhed within Ted’s chest, potent and awful. The wail of a siren couldn’t come soon enough.

Ted watched numbly as his brother was carted off, his pale face illuminated in shades of foreboding red. It wouldn’t take long to get to the hospital. Ted couldn’t help but fear that they were already too late.

***

When Felix awoke, he felt as though someone had stuffed his mouth with cotton and ripped his brain out through his ears. Groaning weakly, he shifted on a rough pillow, muscles throbbing as a chill ran through him. Confusion and annoyance swept through him in waves, but Felix was not yet conscious enough to register any cause for alarm.

That is, until a voice shouted in his ear, and his eyes flashed wide open to glare at its source.

“Felix!” That infuriating voice, loud and demanding, sent needles through his skull. Felix blinked blearily, his eyebrows sharply downturned, and slowly found his vision focusing– on Teddy. Felix paused, the gears in his mind beginning to turn once again.

The next thing he knew, Teddy’s arms were around him, and Felix was melting into a hug. His body leaned into Teddy’s warmth without his direction, his brother’s form trembling beside him as Felix’s shoulder was dampened with tears. Clinging on as though Felix would blow away in the wind, Teddy didn’t bother hiding his disastrously desecrated emotional state. His cries were mostly silent, save for a few hiccups, just as the two of them had learned to keep their sobs many years ago. Father didn’t take well to noise. The sound of Teddy’s gasping breaths shot a pang through Felix’s heart.

Reluctantly, he extracted himself from the hug, gently detaching Teddy’s vice-like grip upon his hospital clothes. Eugh. Hospital clothes. Felix shuddered, suddenly noticing the coarseness of the fabric against his skin and missing his silk pajamas back at his mansion. Years ago, Felix had been the one teary-eyed and red-faced, and Teddy had matched their nightwear. Now, Ted was an indisputable wreck, and clad in a suit where Felix had been dressed by nurses.

…Felix recognised that suit. It was the one Teddy wore back at the… Party…

In seconds, Felix’s face dropped. “What happened?!” He cried out, flustered and horrified. The thought of his most prevalent business connections bearing witness to him displaying such weakness as collapsing was nothing short of harrowing.

“You passed out during the toast,” Teddy sniffled, devastation haunting his words. He looked heartbroken, pausing for a moment as he slowly met Felix’s gaze. “And… Nobody cared. They were going to– to let you die . If I hadn’t called the ambulance, you’d be… Gone.”

Sucking in a sharp inhale of air, Felix felt his mind go quiet. It hadn’t done that in a long, long while.

A barricade had risen against the hurricane to come, Felix’s inevitable reaction delayed by the simple gravity of what he’d just been told. He knew his associates cared little for him as an individual. He knew that, and it was hardly as though he endured their company for pleasure. They were useful, and he was– he’d thought he was useful in turn. That didn’t make the knowledge that he could’ve died without a soul doing anything to prevent it any easier.

“...Ah,” Felix croaked, scrambling to gather the last remnants of his pride. “I suppose you want me to express my gratitude. I will transfer two million to you by morning, and–”

“Felix, no ,” the determination in Ted’s voice was as familiar as Felix’s own reflected face, and yet, in the face of such sheer resolution, he found himself pausing nonetheless. Ted had always been the one to listen to Felix. Perhaps it was time he finally listened to Ted. “I don’t need payment, or– or recompense, or anything of the sort! I’m just glad you’re here .”

Ted took both of his brother’s hands in his own, tearful eyes wide and earnest as a wobbly, genuine smile split across his face. Inexplicably, Felix was reminded of the sun, its rays shining wondrously through the parting cracks of a stormy grey thundercloud. Ted’s hands were so, so warm. Felix didn’t pull away.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Ted confessed, the words a whisper on his lips. “I thought you were going to die , because I– I hadn’t noticed, or been quick enough. Because someone had poisoned you. If that ambulance had taken any longer, you’d be gone. I… Felix, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“It’s alright, Teddy,” Felix murmured back, his voice tender and rough. Expressing emotion was an… Unfamiliar ordeal. Loath as he was to display any form of vulnerability, it felt as though he were offering his bare, beating heart up on a bloodied ornamental plate. Somehow, it wasn’t as terrifying as he would’ve expected. “I’m here, aren’t I? You’re… Being sentimental. Nothing major happened.”

“But it did ,” Teddy stressed, his grip tightening onto the verge of painfulness. Felix kept his face neutral, offering a small squeeze back. He had no clue what he was doing, but he owed Teddy this much. For all those years of steady comfort, and for saving his life. “Someone tried to kill you! And we still don’t even know who! Isn’t– isn’t that terrifying to you?”

“No,” Felix shook his head firmly, looking Ted dead in the eye. “It is not. And do you know why?” Tentatively, Ted shook his head, uncertain hope flickering in his lost stare. Felix flushed at the ridiculous sappiness of his next words, but let them fall without opposition. “Because I have you , Teddy. Even if I do get into another troubling situation, I have full faith in you to assist me. You are clever, and steadfast, and kind. Despite my bullheadedness, you never cease to have my back.” Felix took a breath, deep and calming. When he spoke, his voice was entirely sincere. “I’m proud to call you my brother.”

Finally, he looked back up at Teddy, fearing what he’d see. Felix’s heart stuttered at the sight of more salty tears streaking down Teddy’s cheeks, floundering in alarm for a moment before Ted laughed wetly. “Happy tears,” he explained, his voice choked but joyful. The light he carried brightened, and Felix found himself somewhat awed that he’d been able to evoke such euphoria in his twin. “Thank you, Felix. I love you.”

“Thank you , Teddy,” Felix replied in turn, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “For everything.”

Because throughout every insult spoken, every confrontation shared, every attempt to compete with one another, that gentle, warm fondness stayed unwavering and true. For better or worse, the two of them were a pair. There was no ‘Felix’ without an ‘and Ted’ tacked onto the end, nor could there be simply ‘and Ted’ without the ‘Felix’ invariably preceding it. No matter what came, they had each other.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be more than enough.