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Post by brettdawson on Jun 21, 2012 12:21:48 GMT -5
Brett had finally got a grip on reality. He cleaned up well, shaved, but didn't mess with his hair. It laid pretty flat, thought it seemed to favor one side of his forehead. He wore a dark sweatshirt, a possibility since it was night and cool, and wore plain jeans. All in all, he was very plain. Nothing fancy, and nothing that showed off any of his body. He was currently climbing the steps to Cheyenne McLeester's apartment. Ever since he realized that she was possibly his half-sister he was shell shocked. Brett couldn't even look at girls after what they did... Ugh he couldn't even think about what they did. He took so many showers, trying to rid his memory of her touch. Every small, breakable, piece of furniture was smashed to bits. He hated the thought of his father leaving some woman with a baby. Knocking her up and ditching the family. He didn't want to think that the woman didn't tell him. Brett wanted to blame his father. Then he finds out Maxine McManus was kidnapped. With that added worry it sent him over the deep end. He even took off two days of work to drink and do nothing but loathe. His brain swam around the two thoughts: he almost fucked his sister, and, Maxi is gone.
Now, reaching the door of his possible sibling, Brett's mind was clear. After Maxi called him he stopped drinking. He started thinking about Cheyenne, wondering if she really was his sister. There was a possibility she wasn't... Brett thought it was slim. How could she have a picture of his dad? How could they be so... similar? In body and mind. He hadn't contacted his family at all, not even Bryce who called him at least once a week. He had to talk to her anyways, face to face, not over the phone. He used the police database to find her location and decided, randomly, that tonight was the night. He knew she worked, but he didn't know her hours, so night time was probably the best to find her at home. As Brett stood at the door, staring at it blankly, he debated just turning around and going home. That wouldn't solve anything. But what if she was busy? What if she had a... friend... over. What would Brett do if he caught her with another guy? Did he have the right to kick him out? Was that the chivalrous thing that a brother should do for his sister? He shook his head, clearing those images and thoughts. He didn't even know if she was related to him. He was here to find out.
Brett's finger reached towards the button for the door bell. He pressed it once, and waited with his hands in his pockets and an almost solemn look on his features. He hoped he wasn't disturbing anything.
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Post by CHEYENNE MCLEESTER on Jun 21, 2012 13:04:15 GMT -5
Cheyenne didn't have the balls to go talk to Brett again though she desperately wanted to. Not because she wanted to see him again. She would rather walk into oncoming traffic, but because she wanted answers. If her whore of a mother wasn't going to give them to her, then dammit she was going to find them out on her own. Making out with her potential half-brother hadn't originally be on her agenda of things to do, ever, but it happened and threw a wrench into her little search. She needed time to get over it, to let him get over it, and then continue to try and figure it all out. Was it so wrong to want to know who your father was? According to their mother it was. She was "enough parent" for both she claimed. Cheyenne knew that was horse shit; any parent had to be better than hers.
When she got home she made supper, which consisted of throwing a hot pocket in the microwave and making a bowl of salad. Quick, easy, delicious and somewhat nutritious. At least the salad part. She curled up onto the couch not having plans to go out that night (something she had lost some interest in since her rendez vous), and watched some TV. When she was caught up on a couple of shows she changed into a tank top and shorts and then painted her nails and called Claire, shooting the shit and bitching about this and that.
There was something nice about having just a sister. Sisters were supposed to be your best friends, right? And Claire was. Yes, they fought. Yes, she was a complete cunt at times to her little sister, but when life got tough they had always been there for each other in their own special little ways. That was comfortable.
Her house was a little messy, but it didn't matter to Chey. She didn't plan on bringing anyone home any time soon, and if she did they were going to be black, Indian, Hispanic or Asian because the chances of her having a sibling that was any of those were next to nil. When the doorbell rang she moved easily to the door, opening it and going down the steps to the front door of the house on the main level. She lived on the second floor of a house converted into a triplex. She had just moved there a couple months prior, opting for less convenient, cheaper and roomier rather than smaller, more expensive and significantly more convenient. She figured it was okay since Claire lived in the heart of the city and if she got too drunk to drive home she could crash with her sister. Win/win. At least for her.
"I wish he would just move there. I haven't gotten dressed for work all week. I even went in my pajamas yesterday." She laughed, talking about work to her sister. "Hang on a sec, Claire bear." She said, opening the door and freezing when she looked into the clear blue eyes that were practically the same shade as hers. She was quiet for a moment, staring shell-shocked at Brett. She suddenly felt like she had been busted for something.
"I'm gonna have to call you back." She said before hanging up, her eyes never leaving his. "Hey.." She greeted softly in a voice that was not very Chey-like. Since when had she become so meek? Oh. When she nearly fucked her brother. Maybe brother. Judging by the way he was dressed he was trying to conceal himself, which suddenly made her feel so naked. She folded her arms over her chest and stepped aside, clearing her throat. "Uhh.. yeeeah. Come in.." She said, stepping aside and letting him come into the small hallway. There was a door to the right and then steps on the left. She shut the door behind him and nodded towards the steps. "I'm upstairs." It was obvious they needed to talk. He wanted answer, and she couldn't blame him. She did, too.
Chey led him upstairs, completely conscious that her shorts were too short and too tight as she wiggled her ass in front of him. The thought made her queasy, but she had a good feeling he wasn't watching her ass. One peak over her shoulder confirmed that. She led him into her apartment and shut the door, folding her arms again and looking nervously at him.
"I suppose you want some answers, huh.." She asked softly, willing to hear him out now that they were alone in her house where no one could hear of their... previous interaction.
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Post by brettdawson on Jun 22, 2012 22:27:08 GMT -5
He heard her before he saw her. Brett's nerves suddenly skyrocketed and he felt the urge to bolt. He stood his ground, though, not feeling like he should ding-dong ditch his possible sister. He was sure of her reaction and was right on the money when he stared into a wide-eyed Cheyenne. Those eyes had to be the exact shade of blue that his were. It was eerie. "Hey..." Her greeting was soft and almost shy, also what he expected. "Hey." He said surprisingly steady, along with a short nod. He tried not to acknowledge her outfit but noticed her arms shift uncomfortably. He simply scratched behind his neck as he spoke next, "I thought we needed to sort things out..." His sentence kind of trailed off and he glanced at his shoes when he was finished. "Uhh.. yeeeah. Come in.." He let himself in past her and turned for further instructions.
He let her go ahead of him, enough steps so he wasn't forced to stare at her ass. In fact his eyes were intently focused on his shoes, watching them scale each stair. He swallowed nervously, obviously something the cocky Brett never did, as they got to the top. He was hoping that all of this was a fluke, a mix up. There had to be a chance. Brett wanted to make sure they were siblings or not, so that meant he wanted to bring her to the hospital for a test. There was no point in worrying if she wasn't actually related to him. There were such things as coincidences right? He followed her into her flat, allowing a pent up breath out. He hadn't noticed he wasn't breathing. He looked up at her when she spoke again, "I suppose you want some answers, huh.." He nodded and sighed, digging his hands back into his pockets and sort of awkwardly standing in her flat. He wasn't too sure if he was allowed to sit down... "I bet you do too. First... I'd like to know where you got that picture..."
It was uncanny. The picture was so old that it had to been taken from an old Polaroid camera. At least... that's what he remembered. His brain was so jumbled he could be picturing anything. Brett gave in and leaned against a wall, figuring that wouldn't be against the rules. It was getting a little hot in his sweatshirt, but he didn't dare take it off. Not yet at least. As he listened to her explanation he got angrier. His dad had ditched them. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the anger inside of his spiked. His teeth ground together before exhaling slowly. "I'm sorry about him." Like that would fix anything. Though he felt the apology was needed.
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(Sorry it's short I've been having major writers block :CC)
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Post by CHEYENNE MCLEESTER on Jun 22, 2012 22:47:26 GMT -5
"I bet you do too. First... I'd like to know where you got that picture..."
It made sense. She had a photo of his father, a man she assumed was her own father. There was still a good chance he wasn't, but who knew. "It was in one of my mom's old photo albums." She watched as he leaned against a wall, not sure if she should be telling him the whole damn story or not. Not that she even knew it. It wasn't even really her story to tell, but something she had sort of gone with by putting together really tiny pieces of an enormous puzzle. It would have helped if her mother wasn't such a damn secretive cunt.
"Honestly I don't even know for a fact that's my dad, but there's a bunch of pictures of the two of them looking cozy and they're in the book right before the picture of my moms fat belly popped up, so...I always assumed he was my old man but her bitch-ass lips are sealed." She growled the last part and rolled her eyes, feeling angry about it all. Was it so fucking hard to keep a man in her life? Deep down Cheyenne knew the answer since she was exactly like her mother. Yes. It was hard.
She watched Brett pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry about him." It took a second for her to realize why he would apologize for the guy, but then it dawned on her. He thought his dad bailed.
Chey had to laugh at that. A snort came out and she rolled her eyes, going to the fridge and pulling out a couple of beers. She showed one to him and placed it on the counter near him, unsure if he was comfortable moving from his spot on the wall. Did he think she would try and kiss him again? Fat chance. "Please, knowing my mother she never even told the sap I existed." The girl flopped down on the couch and twisted the beer cap off, taking a long sip. She really needed that beer tonight.
"My mom isn't exactly Sally Homemaker. She probably found a reason to ditch him before he could find the truth out. I mean there's the chance he did know and cut out, but I have a sister whose dad is out of the picture too." She gave him a stern look. "Half sister." She clarified so he wouldn't think there was another one out there. "She hasn't told either of us about our dads identities and always said she'd fooled around with so many guys she didn't know, but I mean...c'mon there's like six pictures of... err... your dad." That was weird. She took another hefty swig from her beer/ God this was awkward.
"Honestly I think we need to do one of those Maury Daddy Baby test things to find out for sure if we're related. I mean... this could just be a whole big misunderstanding!" The was a hopeful look in her eye but the more she looked at Brett, the more she was starting to believe that her theory was true; the resemblance was uncanny. They had to be siblings. "But.." She added softly, twisting her beer around in her hand. "If that is my dad... I wouldn't be opposed to getting to know him." She looked at him skeptically. "No one would ever need to know what we..." Her cheeks flushed and her eyes shut. "Yeah, I don't think we need to talk about that. Ever."
All's good. Wasn't even that short. :]
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Post by brettdawson on Jun 26, 2012 15:55:01 GMT -5
That quick bubble of laughter brought his gaze up again. He was confused, a brow arching high as he awaited an answer to her laughter. What kind of sick humor did she have if she could laugh at this? He watched her inquisitively as she placed a beer next to him. He took it, and opened it, but wasn't eager to feel the alcohol in his system again. His pathetic few days of loathing was enough for awhile. Though, if nothing but to be polite, he took a short swig as she explained herself. "Please, knowing my mother she never even told the sap I existed." Oh. He then nodded, understanding her laughter now. As she continued he listened intently, a skill he acquired from being a Police Officer and a natural tendency from his dog counterpart. When she mentioned a sister he gave her an incredulous look as a reply to her stern one.
"Half sister."
Good. Speaking of siblings made him think of his own. He'd have to tell her about Bryce eventually... but he could save that until later. He'd save her the trouble until they knew their fathers were the same. Especially since Bryce wasn't... the ideal brother. Although Chey described her mother to him, he still blamed his father. He wasn't a stupid man so he had to have figured it out somehow, even if Chey's mom hadn't told him. At least that's what Brett liked to believe. "Well then I'd say it's very likely that he's your father as well." His voice shifted, more business like and emotionless, the tone he used on the job. "You're older than me, it popped up when I looked for your address, so I think the chances are higher. My dad married my mother nine months before I was born." He sighed and shook his head, finally ripping himself off the wall to sit in a chair . He sat on the edge of it, his elbows resting on his knees. Staring past his drink in his hands at his shoes, he started spacing out. His thoughts carrying him away. He was too zoned out to notice the awkwardness grow. It was her voice that woke him.
"Honestly I think we need to do one of those Maury Daddy Baby test things to find out for sure if we're related. I mean... this could just be a whole big misunderstanding!"
This time it was his turn to laugh. He saw the hopeful gleam in her eye slowly dwindle and he shook his head as his chuckles racked his body. There was no way. They were so similar that the odds were not in their favor. "But..." His laughter died down now, his head rising to watch and listen respectfully now. "If that is my dad... I wouldn't be opposed to getting to know him." He nodded, understanding the emotion in her voice. Though he was pretty sure that once she met him, she wouldn't want to speak to him again. Brett's father was a self-righteous asshole. One of those old rich guys that knew they were all that. Her next words brought a rush of memories and a grotesque grimace splayed on his face. He shook his head violently, "No. As far as I'm concerned, it never happened." His voice was stern, as if it was one of those Men In Black neutralizers and could wipe his memory clean.
He downed another gulp of the beer, the cool liquid running down his throat actually a comfort. He was getting hot under his sweatshirt but wasn't planning on revealing himself just yet. He cleared his throat, brushing off the previous conversation as if it was a fly. "But I do agree on the test. That's mainly the reason why I came here. I'm gonna get an appointment and set everything up and let you know the details later... But it's not going to be on Maury." He smiled for once, kind of amused that she brought that up. He leaned back now, finally learning how to relax. The thought of her meeting his parents was odd, plus the thought of her wanting to know his dad was more weird. A thought occured to him and he tried to figure out a way to word his next sentence, "If you're my sister, you know, I'd like to know more about you. I mean all my life I've only had my brat of a brother and he doesn't seem to care about anything. Quite boring actually..." His brows furrowed as he thought about the little shit. Oh shit. Just realizing what he'd brought up his eyes widened a little and searched her face for an expression. Please don't freak out.
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Post by CHEYENNE MCLEESTER on Jun 28, 2012 23:14:31 GMT -5
Judging by the way Brett talked about his dad, Cheyenne got the feeling the boy didn't like his father very much. Was he like them? Arrogant? Cocky? Was that a trait she had inherited from both sides? Was she genetically doomed to be a complete cunt her whole life? Yeah. That was probably likely.
"But I do agree on the test. That's mainly the reason why I came here. I'm gonna get an appointment and set everything up and let you know the details later... But it's not going to be on Maury." She grinned too, not wanting this to be on public television. The very thought made her ill. Besides, they weren't trashy enough for access television, though she wouldn't mind pulling some bitches weave out. That would sort of be fun.. "Yeah, that's fine. I'd rather be on Tyra anyway." She teased. "And yeah, let me know the details. I mean.. it's good just to make sure, yah know? Cause I don't want to be all heeeey I'm your daughter.. when I'm not." She shrugged.
"If you're my sister, you know, I'd like to know more about you." Her smile was gentle and genuine. She would like to get to know him in a way other than how she already did. That would be good.. because making you with your brother was bad, but getting coffee and learning how you were alike was not. "I mean all my life I've only had my brat of a brother and he doesn't seem to care about anything. Quite boring actually..." .....brother?
Cheyenne simply stared at him, watching the shock grow as it became clear that he hadn't meant to let that spill. She was quiet for a moment waiting for him to verify this brother was a half brother, like Claire was her half sister but it was becoming increasingly clear that this wasn't the case with Brett and his brother. Their brother. Her eyes shut tight and she slowly shook her head back and forth, her hands coming up and cradling her face. "Oh God, pleeeease tell me that was a joke." She groaned into her hands. "I swear to CHRIST if I fucked a brother I'm going to slit my Goddamn wrists!" She barked. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose as she took a deep breath. "This is not fucking happening... this is NOT fucking HAPPENING!" Her blue eyes opened and glared at him. "Are there more?!" She snapped angrily, not wanting any more surprises. In a week she had gone from having one sister to a sister and two brothers. Fan-fucking-tastic.
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