Chapter 9 - The Mockingbird

On a typical Sunday night our hangout place will be The Mockingbird, the club owned by Altair– Dove and Raven's older brother. We always get a free pass and a VIP Lounge in an area that overlooks the entire place. We get dibs on the finest drinks and freshest weeds. Legally speaking, we're not really allowed any of those yet. But what is even illegal to us?

In our defense, we don't take anything more than what's provided. Nothing hard and dangerous. And Altair always makes sure of that. Even freedom has their restrictions.

When I got there, Theo was already raving at the dance floor trying to pick up girls. But his aggression and massive ego could only chase them away. It was painful to watch him. I guess that's why he accepted the deal. He's in desperate need of guidance– my guidance specifically. And he knows I'll never help him in any other circumstance.

Arlo and Raven were already on their own corner and whatever they were doing should be done in private. I still wonder when they started to transition from being casual friends to almost eating each other's faces. It still gives me a weird vibe.

A server came to bring a bottle of Don Papa– our usual starter, and Dove invited me beside her and poured me a glass.

"God, they're disgusting" she said, a clear jab towards her twin and Arlo.

I shrugged. "They are, but hey, whatever makes them happy."

Dove exhaled comically, "How can she like Arlo's face?"

"Hmm– she's probably thinking the same thing when you're kissing me. You wanna see what's more disgusting?"

She shakes her head but still, I pointed to the dance floor and watched her follow my finger until her eyes landed on Theo. And Theo, well– let's just say it's the fourth girl who just told him she has a boyfriend and quickly skidded away. From the looks of it she definitely didn't have a boyfriend. We watched her as she sat back with her group of friends who subsequently laughed after what appeared to be her, telling them about Theo.

Dove and I grimaced at the same time, "Oh poor boy" she exclaimed. "Why don't you just help him? Just this once."

"He never really asked. Only when we made the bet did I figure he probably wanted– needed my help."

"But he's such a sad little thing," Dove mused. She swirls her glass before taking another sip. "I mean, he's not even bad looking. He just needs a change in–" she stopped to ponder what makes Theo so unappealing. We both know the answer. I was already laughing before she could finish her sentence, "–his entire personality, I must say."

Being friends with Dove is easy. She knows me like the back of her hand and I'm the same with her. She knows what I like, in wine, horses, girls, art– basically anything surface level, and she knows what I hate. We can laugh at the same things, fuss over each other's problems, pick-up the same hobbies and the same worries– she with Raven and I with Theo. We have so many things in common, it's not impossible for anyone to think we match. But something just doesn't feel right with Dove, at least with me. For a while, I kept telling myself that it's because we've been friends for so long that I can't see her as anything more. But that's a lie. We fit, but we're not compatible– if that makes any sense. She knows me. Well, at least the Henry she created in her mind– the charming, unpredictable paramour, and in some way, I do like that version.

Theo came around this time. Flushed, embarrassed and a bit annoyed. Nothing out of the usual. Dove greeted him first, "How are you darling?"

He mumbled something I couldn't hear over the blasting music and rumbling crowd but I saw Dove comfort him. She does a really great job in coddling Theo. Like an older sister to a much younger brother. When in reality it's Theo who's the older one by eight months. And this is the main reason why Dove thought Theo was joking when he asked her out when we were fifteen. She couldn't be convinced that it wasn't one of our bets. And to save face, Theo just claimed it was. Of course, I have to corroborate this. Because that's who I am for Theo, his arrogant but always dependable best friend.

It wasn't by choice at first, being Theo's friend. I had to be because my father told me to. But then I got to know him and I realized he's just as lost as I am. And I kept him around because he did make me feel better about myself. He was weird and gawky and I was cool and confident. My father might have needed Theo's father for a better business venture, but Theo needed me to survive school and everything else.

Arlo and Raven finally resurfaced from diving into each other's faces, completely drunk– of alcohol or of each other. Altair also joined us for a bit and Theo excitedly told him about the bet. Altair was actually curious about it and even teased me about how it usually becomes real in movies. He also said he and my brother used to do bets like this as well when they were younger. I wondered if that's how my brother met her.

"How's your brother by the way? I haven't seen or heard anything from him for years."

I waved him off, "How should I know? He banished our family as much as our father banished him."

It was a lie. Sometimes my brother still calls. When I'm in the mood, I answer. But most of the time, I don't. His leaving is still another scar I have yet to heal from.

"Well I hope he's happy" Altair remarked, "With his choice I mean. I still couldn't ponder how he could have left everything behind. Especially you. He's always been protective, you know? He thinks of you as his dearest, innocent brother."

"Innocent?" I chortled, before taking three shots of tequila, one after the other.

Altair shook his head and tapped my back. Laughing, he said, "I guess not anymore."

We danced and we drank and we smoked the entire night until the early hours of the morning. My head was buzzing and my skin, prickling. My face felt numb and my chest empty– just like how I want it to be, the unburdened, vacant kind of happy. Altair being the oldest and kind of our acting guardian demanded us to go home when he found Raven on the bathroom floor puking her guts out. He even chastised Dove for leaving her sister on her own when she was supposed to watch her alcohol intake. Raven is what we call a lightweight. Even Arlo was useless because he too was already passed out on the sofa. I couldn't blame the guy. He's been training even on weekends. Especially on weekends, now that the game season is near.

When the twin's driver came, Dove turned to me and asked if we should just check in somewhere. I refused. There was school tomorrow and I was tired. Raven from inside the car shouted, her words tumbling over each other, "Oh Henry, sweet, strong Henry... I forgot to ask about your date with the maiden August!"

"Shut up Raven and just close your eyes! You reek of vomit and I hate you so much right now." Her twin shouted back.

"I think she needs you." I told Dove, to which she agreed. She gave me a light peck before bounding their car.

"You don't hate me for real right sister?" I heard Raven cry before the door was shut and they drove away.

Once they had left, I found that the responsibility to get Arlo and Theo home was on me. Arlo, who had awoken by this time but was still in no condition to drive, helped me get the completely wasted Theo in the car.

"Maaaan– I'm so tired." Arlo exclaimed as we drove past the freeway. "I'm not even drunk. Just really freaking tired."

"Your dad making you train your ass off?" I asked. I know how his father can be so severe with getting Arlo in shape. He's the coach of the Academy's Baseball Team and he is hell-bent on getting Arlo into the big leagues. Anything less than perfect is unacceptable and it shows in Arlo's performance. He wouldn't be a consistent MVP if it weren't for that.

"That and more," Arlo replied. "You wouldn't believe the workout routine he made me do this morning. I almost puked. And just thinking about my schedule and regimen for the next weeks is already making my soul leave my body."

"I guess we'll see less of you?" It's pretty common during game season that we barely see Arlo. He reappears though once it's over.

He nodded, "Tonight's my last hurrah. I begged my dad to let me."

"Raven might miss you."

"Ah well, we did talk about it. She's very understanding. We didn't want to be like you and Dove."

I shot him a look and he backpedaled immediately.

"I mean no offense man, we want everything to be clear between us."

"So you two are 'together', together?"

Another nod but this time, I saw him blush, "We want the labels, not the kind of limbo you have with Dove."

For someone who didn't want to offend, Arlo actually sounds very offending.

I chuckled, "what exactly do you mean?"

He shrugged, "I don't know, you're both like magnets. But of opposite poles. Still made of the same materials but repelling each other instead of pulling."

I've never really thought of us like that, but that was a great way to describe how we are. Who would have thought Arlo can actually make good metaphors? I found myself thinking how August would have liked that. She mocked a metaphor I did once.

"Don't worry, you won't be like us. Raven's not Dove and you are definitely not like me. Not even the slightest."

Arlo laughed, "Of course, I could never pull off being as unattached and as unbothered as you. No offense."

The road was mostly empty and without the traffic, our drive home was cut thirty minutes less. After dropping off Arlo, I drove to Theo's place which was just a few blocks away. We were greeted by Tronto, his butler who carried him effortlessly on one shoulder.

It has been a long night and yet despite all the alcohol and the weeds and all the dancing and making outs, I still felt restless. I found myself driving round and round our subdivision but intentionally never making it anywhere. Finally, I stopped in front of the playground, a street away from my own house with gates higher than eyes can reach, making it feel more like a prison than a home. I can feel the effects of the night finally settling in my bones. My feet are throbbing, my stomach grumbling, my fingers numbing. But my head was filled with all the Henry's they thought of me and yet none felt like me. I wanted to talk with someone but nobody came to mind and that's when I knew that nobody really knows who the real Henry was, not even me. And isn't that sad?

I am a charming paramour, an innocent brother, a dependable friend, all of which because I needed to be. I am sweet but arrogant, strong yet unattached, all the things I thought I wanted to be. The line between who I thought I am and who my friends believe I am, are all a messy blur and I can't see who the real Henry is anymore. The one who doesn't live with the limitations of expectations and dictated with all the 'what I should be'.

I am everything and nothing and I felt my chest heaving. My car felt cramped, and my skin felt tight and wrong and I wanted to get out of it. To get out of me.

So I scrolled through my phone and before I could get a grasp of my suddenly swirling world I was calling August. I realized that with all the parts I am playing, I liked play-falling-in-love with her the most. But it was three in the morning and she might be sleeping so I wondered why I even bothered. I would've dropped the call but the other line clicked and I heard her voice, plain and clear and comforting, as if she hadn't just been woken up at all.

"Hello?"

And just like that the world has regained its focus.