Page 13 of We May Be Fractured

Unexpected Kindness ?

[Now playing ? Monster—dodie]

I n the following days at Nyle’s, Aaron did his best to adjust to the odd vibe in the house.

A tense atmosphere hung around, as if everyone was treading on eggshells. Nyle tried hard to bring the family together, but it wasn’t taking off, especially with Landon. The guy preferred his own company, always ducking out to his room or hanging in the summer house.

Luzanne, though generally getting along with Nyle and Aaron, was hardly around due to her odd hotel shifts. But she definitely wasn’t on Team Landon. Whenever they bumped into each other in the kitchen, she’d shoot him deadly glares or annoyed scoffs.

So, more often than not, Nyle and Aaron ended up alone at the dinner table.

And things between Aaron and Landon weren’t exactly that great either.

They butted heads more often than not, and it felt like Landon was trying to spook him. But Aaron wasn’t one to back down easily. In fact, he made it his mission to get under Landon’s skin, just like Landon did to him.

On his third morning at Nyle’s, after a refreshing run, Aaron walked into the kitchen to find Landon perched on the counter casually eating breakfast, a box of cereal on one side of him and a bottle of milk, carelessly left open, on the other.

“Morning,” Aaron greeted, more for politeness than anything, as he made his way to the sink.

Landon, true to form, continued stirring his spoon in his mug, not bothering to look up.

Aaron noted yet another quirky design on the mug—a black cat sipping coffee with a caption that read That’s what I do.

I drink coffee, I hate people, and I know things .

Pretty fitting. How many other funny mugs were around? And were they all Nyle’s doing?

Maybe that would explain Landon’s socks as well, the only break in his otherwise all-black attire. Aaron couldn’t make out today’s pattern—donuts, maybe?—because he got distracted by the soggy cereal in Landon’s mug, drowning in milk.

“Ugh, disgusting,” Aaron commented as he took a sip of water.

Landon finally glanced up. “You’re not exactly a pretty sight either.” He gestured at Aaron’s sweat-stained T-shirt.

“You know, cereal doesn’t need to be soaked like it’s pasta,” Aaron joked, trying to keep the mood light.

Ignoring him, Landon stirred his mug even more and then drank the contents with obvious enjoyment. Aaron watched, half annoyed, half amused, as Landon’s Adam’s apple bobbed exaggeratedly with each swallow. Landon’s theatrical sigh after finishing confirmed to Aaron that he was being provoked.

Deciding to play his game, Aaron grabbed a mug, poured in some milk, and tossed in the cereal bit by bit, getting it just damp. He made sure to chew loudly, crunching down on each bite.

Landon put up with the performance for a couple of seconds, then hopped down from the counter and headed out of the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, Aaron chuckled to himself and leaned on the counter. These silent battles were odd but strangely satisfying.

But Aaron found times where he dared to push the boundaries further.

That night, when he went out to the garden for a quick smoke, he couldn’t resist sneaking a peek into the summer house through its small window.

He only managed to catch a glimpse of a desk, a laptop, and what looked like a sketchbook, all shrouded in darkness.

Maybe it was some sort of secret art studio.

But before he could see more, Landon popped up out of nowhere, startling him like an unexpected camera flash going off in his face, leaving Aaron blinking and disoriented.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Landon whispered right into Aaron’s ear.

That sent a shiver down Aaron’s spine. But as he stepped back and scrutinised Landon, with his weary expression, he sensed something deep and complex under the surface. Everyone told him Landon was bad news, even his own family, but Aaron had a feeling there was more to him than what people saw.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” he retorted, trying to keep his cool before turning to leave.

Despite standing his ground, the encounter left Aaron with a bitter aftertaste and a knot of unease in his stomach. Landon had an undeniable air of intrigue that puzzled him. Why was Aaron so captivated by someone like him?

*

T he end of the week had already rolled around, and Aaron hadn’t managed to land a job.

His mornings had been a relentless quest across the city, seeking any work to make up for the missed flight and the fine for weed possession.

He remained cautious about draining his savings, which he needed for his planned new start in Australia.

While crashing at Nyle’s had helped him save on rent, Aaron knew that luck wouldn’t cover everything else.

He’d been everywhere—cafés, shops, anywhere that might need an extra pair of hands, willing to take on any role that didn’t require specific qualifications. But he only met a string of rejections.

As Aaron trudged back to Nyle’s place that evening, he started to lose hope.

He had half a mind to collapse into bed and escape into a TV series, but as he approached the house, the blaring of a television greeted him. He kicked off his shoes and shed his hoodie at the entrance, then continued to the living room.

Nyle lounged on the sofa with a salad bowl on his lap, absorbed in a reality show where fit people in bikinis and swim trunks yelled at one another on a tropical beach.

In the kitchen, Landon was busy making a beast of a sandwich with his headphones on.

The amount of filling he’d stacked up seemed like a challenge to the two slices of bread trying to contain it.

“Hey, Aaron,” Nyle greeted him loudly, his voice competing with the show. “How’s it going? You catch up on some sleep? Grabbed any dinner yet?”

Not even a minute in, and Nyle bombarded him with questions.

“Why’s the TV so loud?” Aaron asked.

Nyle put his half-eaten bowl on the coffee table, snatched up the remote, and muted the show.

Pointing to the ceiling, he cupped his hand to his ear.

A series of noises from upstairs broke the silence, sounding like furniture being shuffled and something thudding against the wall.

Then, unmistakably, moans filtered down through the ceiling.

“Luzanne and Jean?” Aaron guessed.

“Yeah, they’ve been at it since they came back an hour ago,” Nyle said, cranking the TV volume back up and looking resigned. “Quite the noise, huh?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

Nyle shrugged. “She’s having a good time, I guess. And honestly, I’ve probably made more noise myself at times.”

Aaron didn’t know what to say to that, so he sank into the seat next to Nyle. Kat jumped onto his lap at once, purring and demanding some affection.

“So,” Nyle prodded again, “where’ve you been all day?”

“Job hunting.” Aaron petted Kat absentmindedly. “Total waste of time though.”

“You were actually out looking for a job?” Nyle sounded genuinely surprised.

Aaron nodded. “I don’t have a resume. Figured I’d try my luck in person. Don’t need a resume to wait tables, do you?”

Nyle shot him a look full of amusement and pity. “Darling, this is London. Jobs don’t exactly fall from the sky.”

“I thought showing up might help.”

“Any luck with that?”

“Everywhere I went, it was the same story. Either ‘apply online’ or a flat ‘no’ after one look at me.”

Nyle didn’t comment. I told you so was written all over his face.

“Any chance there’s an opening at the museum or maybe Luzanne’s hotel? I’m willing to give anything a go.”

Landon snorted softly and placed a bowl on the floor for Kat. Quick as a flash, Kat hopped off Aaron’s lap and made a beeline for it. “Right, so Nyle’s what, now? A letting agent and a job centre?”

Nyle sent Landon a glance that said enough , then focused back on Aaron.

“Wish I could help, but there’s nothing going at the museum right now.

And the hotel? They’re pretty picky about how you look.

Luzanne can’t even wear her hair down or have a nose stud.

It’s all about keeping up appearances, you know. ”

Aaron responded with a low grunt, not exactly shocked but still feeling the sting. He was well aware his scars didn’t exactly make for a warm first impression, but each reminder felt like a new jab.

“How did you get those scars?” Nyle asked, his curiosity finally having the best of him.

Aaron was about to give one of his practised, dismissive answers. But then, the brakes of a car screeched outside, the sound piercing through the room like a siren from the past.

In an instant, Aaron wasn’t in the room anymore.

In his head, he was back there, upside down on the hard asphalt.

He traced the scars on his cheek like a map of that night, while he clenched the pendant at his neck in his other hand.

His T-shirt clung tighter around his torso as the room’s temperature skyrocketed. He needed fresh air. Now.

Without a word to Nyle, Aaron bolted from the sofa, through the door, and outside into the garden. Despite the chill in the air, his body reacted as if he were in a sauna, and he panted heavily, his heart thumping wildly.

Bending over, he tried to steady his breathing but to no avail. He picked up a leaf, crushed it, then dug his nails into the soil, anything to keep his mind grounded.

A rustling sound made him spin around, and thinking it was Nyle, he snapped, “If you’re out here to give me a pep talk, I don’t—” His eyes landed on a pair of donut-patterned socks.

“I didn’t come out here to cheer you up,” Landon said.

“And here I was thinking you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” Landon lit up a cigarette and took a deep puff. “But I believe no one should be judged solely on their appearance.”

Aaron eyed him. Was Landon talking about him or about himself? “So, you’re not going to ask about the scars?”

Landon exhaled a puff of smoke, his expression thoughtful in the dim light. “Do I look like Nyle? If you wanted to talk about it, you would’ve already.”

Aaron bit his lip and tasted a metallic tang. “I should be used to it by now. Scars always invite questions.”

“You don’t have to answer them.” Landon blew out more smoke and scrutinised Aaron. “Though, I’m surprised you haven’t used this as a chance to tell another story.”

Aaron smiled, stretching the scars. “The classic ‘I tripped down the stairs’ doesn’t really cut it.”

“Who knows?” Landon’s gaze remained unreadable in the night. “Sometimes, people are so dense they might not believe you even when you’re telling the truth.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the night enveloping them like a soft shroud.

Finally, Landon spoke up again, flicking his cigarette away. “Tomorrow. Ten a.m. At the front door.”

Aaron took a moment to process the cryptic invitation. “What? Are we having a cowboy duel at high noon or something?”

The corners of Landon’s mouth lifted slightly. “Or something,” he replied, locking eyes with Aaron.

With that, he disappeared back into the house, leaving Aaron alone with his thoughts. What was Landon planning?