The day started with a noise.
A vibration, that woke up your brown tabby kitten, which you had dubbed Sir Bartholomew, leaps aboard your dresser and smacks the noisy device off. It falls to the floor, the ground making contact with the volume button.
You wake up immediately. The first thing you see as you lay on your side is your tabby leaping off the dresser to attack your phone. You stretch as you sit up and look around your room dully. It was small, a perfect cube of a room that felt like a prison at times, though you loved it's simplicity and limited size which often provoked wise thought as to how to conserve maneuvering space.
The alarm buzzes it's way into your thoughts and you reluctantly budge. The second your foot touches the ground you fall to your knees and sit.
Sir Bartholomew pushes the phone towards you with his paw, giving you a pleading look to silence the noisy contraption. You do so by tapping the dismiss button on the touch screen. Instant Silence.
You close your eyes and clasp your hands to pray. Sir Bartholomew assumes a position beside you and bows his head reverently. You both stay in position for nineteen minutes. Then you open your eyes and slowly rise to get the circulation flowing through your legs.
You head out your room, past your apartment's den, into the kitchen, Sir Bartholomew close at your heels. You wash out his crusty food bowl and dry it, you do like wise with his water bowl. Then you fill them both, each with it's appropriate contents and place it before him at his usual spot.
He thanks you with a grateful mew before eating.
You don't feel like cooking today so you microwave two blueberry corn dog sausages and make yourself a bowl of healthy, flavorless cereal.
Sir Bartholomew places your phone on the table and retreats back to his food. There was a message notification.
You ignore it. Milk nearly flies out your nose when you notice Sir Bartholomew attempting to jump from one couch to the other in the background only to fail. The splatter gets on your phone screen and as you wipe it off you read the message.
From: Claude Capoe
As a reminder, the reading of your Mother's will is today. It will be read at Sun's Cathedral, your mother's diner. I've already made the reservations. Meeting starts at 9:00 AM.
Your smile fades. What was the point of going? It's not like she'd actually get anything- your Mother had always hated you. Didn't Mr. Capo know this? Of course. That's why he sent you the invitation!
"Should I go?" You ask Sir Bartholomew this as he re-enters the kitchen. He cocks his head at you.
You weigh your choices as you nibble on your corndog, memories of your Mother popping into your head. Most of them were scenes of her being angry with you and not your siblings who were the origin of the problem.
You were the middle child among the set of five, the odd one out- you remember your Mother's teachings on etiquette,patience, modesty, ballet and her vague words of advice. It's not like everything was terrible... was it? You'd rather try not to remember.
You arrive at 8:15 AM and regret it immediately. You didn't see anyone at first but you spot Mr. Capoe as you step in further. He was in the middle of the room at the big center table. You approach him hesitantly.
Mr. Capoe was a handsome man who at times- if you didn't look at him right, could easily be mistaken to look like a woman. He was a Romanian with rich yellow eyes shielded by spectacles and silky, well groomed hair.
You greet him as you sit down and he nods.
"Your siblings have just landed, they're on their way now." he says this as he overlooks paperwork.
You feel a little wounded since it was likely that they had gone on a family vacation without you. You sigh softly.
"How have you been doing?" Mr. Capo asks this after shooing a waiter away. You're shocked that he would ask such a question since it was rare for him to show interest in anything other than his job- you don't know why but from the very first moment you met him you admired him, you were only eighteen then and he in his early twenties.
No! No! No! No! - you dismiss the oncoming girlish thoughts and smile politely.
"Fine." Is all you can say- you don't know how to respond, social interactions were never your strong suit. You ask him the same question and he replies with different words but basically the same answer. You feel as if a door has closed on you and you're hoping to open it again.
"I... got a kitten, recently..." you say.
He raises an eyebrow at you though his expression is completely blank.
"...Oh. What breed?" his answer is delayed.
"T-tabby, he's brown... a boy."
Mr. Capoe nods as he looks over more papers.
"Mmm... my sister has three persians...fluffy bastards."
If your mother were here she'd be surprised by his use of language and probably laugh, you wish you could do the same but you can only smile.
A door has opened for you now. Mr. Capoe mentioned he had a sister, what's her name? You want to know more. What was she like? What did she look like? Does he have any more siblings?- What kind of occupation did his sister have?
Instead you ask:
"What are their names?"
For a second he doesn't respond and you don't think he heard you. You did have a rather soft voice, perhaps you should speak a little louder? He finally looks up just as you consider the thought.
"Parsley, Sage and Rosemary."
You smile again. Such cute names!
"How lovely! They must be angels!"
Mr. Capoe grunts.
"Devil's more like it. What's the name of yours?"
His face goes blank and he nods but you can tell something went on in his mind just then.
He looks as if he was going to ask another question but then your younger sister, Ismene runs toward your table.
She pulls you into a hug.
"It's sooo good to see you!"
You're surprised by her sudden pleasantness and so you say nothing.
"Reminisce?" Your older sister, Korea looks surprised to see you. You smile tightly. Korea had blossomed even more into a beautiful rose of a woman compared to the last time you saw her. Judging by her choice of clothing she was very well aware of it too, but she stuck true to her pledge of modesty and wore a long fitting white shift dress that covered all the right places but still screamed sexy. She takes a seat.
"Nissi?" Your oldest brother, Alphonse takes the seat next to you, he was accompanied by a young man, one with long golden blonde hair tied back into a braid. His eyes were a cold grey and he looked as if he could be someone important, like a prince, or a model, or maybe some kind of handsome pirate...?
Alphonse pats your head lovingly as your Father would and for a second you almost feel like you're seven years old again.
Your youngest brother, Casshern claims a seat in between Korea and Ismene.
"You never hesitate to remind us that you're the black sheep of the family."
His remark earns him a quick smack from Korea along with a threatening glare from Ismene.
His note makes you self conscious and you notice that apart from you, Mr. Capo and your brother's friend- everyone was wearing white. You let it go.
"I'd have worn black if I had time to change." Korea shoots a look at Ismene, who smiles mischieviously.
"Sorry." She giggles.
"Now that everyone is here... shall we begin?" Mr. Capoe announces. Casshern stares at him wide eyed.
"Has he always been there?"
Ismene looks nervous as well.
"I didn't notice you either."
Sadly this makes you feel a little better.
"Guys." Alphonse gives them a patient look.
They apologize to Mr. Capoe in unison who remains unfazed by their interruption. The reading of the will begins and you zone out for most of the reading, your mind tuning in and out every now and then when you hear a name called.
Korea was given Sun Cathedral, Ismene, Rainbow's Babies (-the confectionary store), Alphonse, Camellia Academy and Casshern, her fashion line(named Nostalgia) and shoe store.
When Mr. Capoe reads your name you're shocked to hear that she left you her clothes and her land in Iceland. He goes on to read that the inheritance had been split into five, one fifth would go to each child. You're surprised she didn't leave you out- actually she was a fair woman, though she often believed your siblings over you and would often make you the witness of her frustration...
Your siblings show no reaction when they hear this, they don't seem surprised when they receive their checks and deeds.
"I got Nostalgia!" Casshern rubs one of the deeds in Korea's face. Nostalgia was the name of your Mother's fashion line. You remember her saying it was dedicated to the child she never saw. You have an idea of what she meant by that but you feel as if there was more to the story. If only you had asked...
"What are those other papers for?" Korea decides to ask as Casshern rubs the paper on her cheek. Mr. Capoe neatens the short stack.
"These are for your Father."
Silence. Everyone looks to stare at the reddening Alphonse. Over the years he had and your Father have had a rocky relationship. Alphonse was your Father's favorite son, heir to his company, Bloom Industries, Alphonse accepted his role at an early age yet somehow your Father saw this as an excuse to interfere in Alphonse's personal life. Telling him who he should associate himself with and whether he could or couldn't date a certain girl. During his teenage years, your brother finally snapped. He pretended to be homosexual, gothic, a drug addict, a raver and even a gigolo albeit this all quieted down after he graduated from high school. He embraced his position without further complaint but he still questioned his Father's judgement and authority.
"He couldn't even come to his own wife's hearing..." as Alphonse say this his left eyebrow twitches.
"What kind of husband does that?!"
Korea reaches out to touch her brother's hand affectionately. He calms and this display triggers a memory in your mind. You brush it off.
"Well... that covers everything... enjoy the rest of your evening." Mr. Capo tucks the papers in his briefcase and you check your watch.
10: 43 AM. This is a result of everyone arriving early- you think.
You both rise up from the table. Eyes meeting. You look away quickly.
"Leaving already Remi?"
"You didn't even eat!"
They actually wanted you to stay?
"I already had breakfast, thank you... excuse me...."