Night had already fallen over the city, the lights of cafés and boutiques beginning to glitter, and Soren was already running ahead, a bright smile lighting up his face.
"Come on, Angi! Hurry up, you walk too slowly!" Soren shouted as he turned back.
Angi, a little out of breath, followed him, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. Despite everything, he couldn't help smiling as he watched him. Soren… he was always like that: lively, loud, impossible to ignore.
"Soren… can you slow down a bit?" he asked softly.
Soren stopped and turned toward him, eyes sparkling.
"Why? You tired?" he laughed, and without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Angi's hand and pulled him along.
Angi let himself be dragged, laughing despite himself. He loved this. He loved everything about Soren, even those moments when he was irresistibly annoying.
They arrived at their favorite spot in the city: a lively little bar with dim lights and music that made the floor vibrate. Soren sat at the counter, already surrounded by a few friends. Angi slipped beside him, observing the familiar faces and the lively atmosphere around him.
It had always been like that—Soren leading the pace and Angi following. It had been nineteen years now that they'd been together; they had never been separated, and Angi truly loved his cherished big brother.
At the bar, Angi simply stayed beside his brother, never taking his eyes off him. The two brothers were very different in personality. He watched Soren and told himself he could never be like him—and honestly, it was better that way.
As they grew up, Soren had become more and more rebellious. All he thought about was fun, messing around, and adventure. But he was my one and only brother; I had to accept him and follow him—that's how I felt.
But those feelings were hiding a truth… and a lie. I turned to look at him again, and once more, I found myself thinking about it.
Five years. Yes, five years since I had changed the course of our lives. And he knew nothing. Every laugh from Soren, every look he threw at me… reminded me of what I had done and what I had lost.
I still remembered when I was fourteen, that time when I was… mean. Cruel. I had taken advantage of Soren's love and innocence, because our parents had always preferred me. Everything seemed to go my way, and him… he just stood there, fragile, unable to defend himself.
And then that day… the day everything changed. Soren had gathered all his courage. "Mom… Dad… I… I like boys." Then he looked at me.
He thought he could count on me, that I would stand by his side. But I knew very well he wouldn't get far with what he had just done, and out of fear and fear of our parents' rejection, I pushed away and insulted the one brother I had. I took a breath and told him, "EW!!! Disgusting!!!… How can you say something like that in front of our parents?"
What a hypocrite I was. Soren stood there, stunned by what I had just said, and that was the beginning of hell for him.
That's when our parents exploded. They insulted him, humiliated him, punished him. And me… I said nothing. I let it happen. I watched silently as his world collapsed.
For five years, my brother was treated like nothing in the eyes of our parents. I could feel he didn't love me anymore; the only thing he felt for me was hatred. But it didn't bother me—at least I was still in his heart, and we were still together. But was that enough?
After all, it wasn't my fault. He knew very well our parents would never accept it. He was the one to blame in this story—that's what I kept telling myself. During my little acts of cruelty toward Soren, I even started to enjoy that life. Loving boys instead of girls was shameful—that's what I repeated to myself nonstop.
When we were nineteen, I asked our parents to pull Soren out of school. It was for his own good—so he could work at home instead of getting thrown out by them. Sometimes he got beaten, but he was strong; he endured it well, and every time, I treated his wounds. Sometimes I even tried to bring him "back to the right side," but he refused my kindness.
One morning before going to school, I saw him at the top of the stairs, about to go down. Thinking about what he had done, I pushed him down the stairs. He fell violently to the floor, unconscious, blood on his face. A shiver ran through my body—what had I just done? I felt so sick, I didn't know what to do. I ran with all my strength to tell our parents, to warn them of what had happened—but what did I expect!?
They had no reaction. And they told me their plan to send Soren to an institution for rejected children. I couldn't believe it—I was shocked. All of this because of me. I didn't want to be separated from my big brother, so in a panic, I ran, grabbed the car keys, put Soren on my back, and carried him to the car to take him to the hospital.
When they saw that, my parents weren't happy. I had to escape—that was the first time I ever disobeyed them.
They sent guards after us, and all I could think about was taking my sweet big brother, in tears, to the hospital. But I had been wrong from the start—they weren't trying to stop me because of Soren, but because the car I took had been tampered with. The brakes had been removed to trap an enemy. The car, speeding, couldn't stop anymore. We were going to crash, and my innocent brother would be dragged into it. I cried every tear in my body that night. I tried everything, but nothing worked.
We crashed into a truck carrying gas bottles. Life can be so unfair. Since that day, regret has devoured me for years. But destiny… destiny gave me a chance. A blinding light, dizziness… and I found myself in my fourteen-year-old body, five years earlier. Everything was starting over. Everything could be fixed.
During those five years, I changed. I learned to be loyal, protective, attentive. I became the ideal little brother every big brother wishes for. I watched Soren grow, laugh, fall, get back up… and I tried to make up for my mistakes. But I knew that some wounds would never disappear.
Today, I'm back in the present. Nineteen years old. Soren walking in front of me, as always. His smile tears my heart apart and moves me at the same time.
I have to protect him.
I have to keep him close to me.
He knows nothing about what I lived through, nothing about what I did for him during those five years. And I fear he could never handle the truth.
I lift my eyes and see him turn his head; our eyes meet. A faint smile, He doesn't know… he will never know… not yet.
I clench my fists, trying to control the storm of memories and emotions tearing at me.
Everything is ready to begin our new life… together, no matter what.