Destined

04

Yaz Kishimoto

17 years old

One week later, in Los Angeles, California.

My mother loved alcohol and drugs and partyʻs but that's not the worst part of it. She was obsessed, addicted, she would have chosen a bottle of alcohol over me if the choice was brought to her on a golden platter. She loved fucking up her life and in turn ruining mine. Papa was the opposite, he liked to control his life and his mind but he loved her and let her do whatever she wanted.

If she wanted to fuck up her life he would have given her what ever she needed to do it. And at the end of the day when the damage was done, he would have picked her up and cleaned her mess and the cycle would begin again. Itʻs probably why she died when I was 14.

Papa didnʻt care who me and Haru were with as long as it didnʻt interfere with business. He really didnʻt care much about us.

So youʻd think I would learn how to make better decisions. The music was too loud. I could not hear my own thoughts but still I swayed. I let the sway of the crowd move me with them, the body heat pushed me in as the lights flash colors.

"You donʻt understand Iʻve loved you since we were children." I said to him.

Isamu rolls his eyes, "donʻt joke about that, Yazlin."

"Iʻm not joking!" I shout while holding my arms against my waist, tightly.

He blinks at me with a blank expression, "oh," he scratches his jaw, contemplating what to say, "well I donʻt like you in that type of way. And you donʻt love me." he says, bluntly.

The memory plays through my mind but still the smell of booze and drugs radiating from all around, corrupts me. I tilt my head back, feeling the adrenaline in my veins, as I part my lips slightly.

"Iʻve loved you forever," I whisper with vulnerability.

He gives me a hard stare, "Donʻt say stupid shit like that, Yazlin." He says, walking away.

Hands trail over my waist and I let them, the drugs and alcohol in my system corrupting my function to even process the touch.

Suddenly the hands are torn off of me and my hair is pulled back aggressively. I open my eyes slightly to see Isamu staring down at me, "Yazlin." he speaks with anger and annoyance, "weʻre leaving, now."

I smile up at him, a drunk smile, closing my eyes, "It would be easier for me to leave if you werenʻt pulling onto my hair like a kinky alpah-hole."

The grip loosens on my hair and he gives an annoyed sigh, grabbing my wrist. The touch burns me a bit as he pulls me through the crowd, my eyes widen as I have no choice but to stumble after him.

As soon as weʻre outside he turns to me, more annoyance flashing in his eyes, "what is fucking wrong with you?"

The world spins a bit and I try to balance myself by gripping both his arms, "a lot." I say with a dizzy smile.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, "your brother was worried about you," running his hands through his hair. I don't know if it's all the molly I took but Isamu Yama seemed...stressed.

I smile a knowing smile, "awe were you worried about me?" With a fake pout, "that's so sweet! but there's no reason for it. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself." I say brushing my hand against his face.

He hits it away, grabbing my face roughly, "I'm being serious, Yazlin. You know he worries about your partying habit." I could hear the unspoken words with the look he gave me. He's worried because he doesn't want you to end up like your mother.

I push away from him with a narrow gaze, "don't pity me! If he cares so much, where is he?"

He glares at me and is about to say something but then a car pulls up. And a worried Haru jumps out of it, white shirt crinkled, and hair a mess. Looking for all the world, worried as hell. Guilt floods me and I look over to Isamu, expecting to still see that glare, but his expression was sobered.

Haruʻs eyes fill with relief, he quickly walks over to me, and pulls me into a tight hug. "god, you scared me." I had only been gone for a few days but he made it seem like I was gone forever.

I hug him back, then I push him away, "I'm doing perfectly great!" I said gesturing to myself as if to say look, I'm still alive. My blood is still pumping through my veins. And I'm not dead in a ditch yet bitch!

He seems to glare at me and I sigh knowing what comes next. "You're fine?" He switches over to Japanese, cussing me out. Talking about the way I smell of booze and drugs. How my hairs a mess and my makeup is undone. How he can hear the slur in my voice and the way it sounds like mama's. Once he's done, he sighs, "I'm sorry. That was too far but fuck, Yaz, you scared me. I was worried sick and you wouldn't answer your phone! You're my twin, I thought I really lost you this time!"

When he sees the guilt on my face he sighs again. Putting his arm around my shoulders, holding me close to him. I lean into him and he nods to Isamu who heads back into the club. Opening the car door for me, I hop in, hitting my head on my way in, wincing. Haruʻs eyes widen and he just ruffles my hair, shaking his head.

We started to drive and I leaned my head against the window, watching the city lights of Los Angeles flash. Haru speaks into the silence, "So, how was it?" I give him a broad glance and he wiggles his eyebrows, " Meet any new men? Any keepers?"

I choke on a laugh, not answering. He widens his eyes, offensively, "What? Not gonna tell your twin brother about your love life?"

I turn my head, blocking my mouth with the back of my hand to hide my smile, "never," I whisper.

"Wowww," He says, pushing me lightly with a smile, he turns the radio on and, dear god, Britney spears starts to blast.

He starts singing along and I laugh at the ridiculous moment. He's smiling and laughing as I start singing with him. Tapping his hand against the steering wheel and singing lyrics I didn't even know.

I think this is the good thing about family but also the worst. Picking them up when they fall, even when they don't deserve it. But you're supposed to know when a certain line has been crossed, a line where this time they need to pick themselves up or else they'll never learn. And if they never learn then they'll continue to fall and you'll continue to pick them up until eventually you are brought down with them. The worst part about our family is that we always pick up the ones we love but barely ever learn from it.