Juliana's POV

They say when you're held at gunpoint you should start talking about your life.

Something about humanising yourself to your assailant makes the morality of the deed harder. Reminds them that you too, are a person, and not something so easily expendable.

Expendability is an easy concept, if you ask me. And by that I mean it comes very naturally to people. After all, it is simply replacement.

The things that we have, the people in our lives. We see them as expendable. Most of the time, anyway.

Sure, maybe it's not always the easiest at first, but over time eventually you'll just... forget. Forget that they were even significant to you in the first place. Forget why.

"Juliana, I'm not telling you again. You have... Eight minutes to get your ass downstairs before I drag you out looking like that." Gino snaps at me, slamming my door shut.

I groan, rolling over and smothering my face in my pillow. It's too early to be alive.

The past few weeks have been rough. Something in me clicked that night. I went back into a haze. I was going through the motions of everyday life without truly experiencing any of it.

Not that I really wanted to anyway.

I turn over, staring at the desk across from my bed. On it was my computer, a caddy holding my makeup, and hanging on the back of my chair was a plain black duffle bag containing all my skating supplies.

Next to it, lying on the floor haphazardly, was my dance backpack. With my studio's logo, inside holds all my different shoes, and multiple different changes of attire I would need throughout the day.

I couldn't stop my gaze from shifting longingly towards the computer sitting on my desk. It had been a solid 9 days since I last talked to any of my cousins.

It's certainly not from lack of effort from their end, it was purely my fault. It had gotten to the point where I simply couldn't keep the falsity. I couldn't keep the smile on, or the energy up.

And they noticed.

I couldn't take the questions, or concerned glances that kept getting thrown around.

I'm not even sure how it happened. It was like one day, I just started ignoring the calls. Until suddenly, there were no calls to ignore.

I can't lie, it hurts. Not that I was prideful enough to admit that it was entirely my fault, I still missed them.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. There was no putting off the day.

I rolled out of bed, blinking away the head rush. Didn't matter as it was immediately followed by a head splitting ache.

I guess that's what happens when you spend half the night crying.

I brush my hair into a ponytail, not having the energy for anything else. I don't bother with makeup, not like there was a point as it would get sweated off anyhow.

Somehow I get downstairs before 5, and Gino was waiting for me in the garage. He looked less than pleased at being awake this early, but he was holding a banana with him which he extended to me when I got close enough.

He did open the back door for me though.

I shoved my skating and dance bags in, not caring that one of them tipped over, toppling to the floor.

I slam the door shut, which earns me a disapproving look from Gino.

How dare I hurt his baby.

Gino has been driving me to practice the past few days. I'm not sure why, it may be a punishment.

For what, I have no idea. Nor do I really care.

I lean my head back on the seat, wishing to go back to sleep.

Gino has other plans, because the little bitch cranks the radio all the way up.

While we do live in NYC, we live close enough to the suburbs that we still need to drive a majority of the places.

We make it to the rink in silence, but he tells me to take both bags with me. Apparently he won't be picking me up today.

Okay, whatever. I don't really care.

Next thing I know I'm stretching with Rocco. We don't have the first class together.

Normally I do off ice training from 5:30 to 7:30, then Rocco comes in at 8:00 and we do another hour and a half of off ice training, followed by an hour of on ice.

I'm not sure all that happened in that first two hours, it's all just a blur. Rocco has been talking for the past couple of minutes.

I really should pay attention to what he's saying. Rocco is nice enough. I'm not sure he knows too much about me, as I haven't really allowed him to, but I know all about him.

I know he thinks he might as well count as an only child because his older sister moved out before he turned ten.

I know his favourite colour is emerald. When I asked him why, he wouldn't say.

"Well? Will you?" He asks, drawing my attention and popping my little thought bubble.

"Will I what?" He looks slightly disappointed when I ask, but doesn't really falter.

"Come to my party. I know it probably won't be the most exciting cause it's only a birthday party, but my parents really want you to come." He rambles, closing his mouth when he realises.

"I'll ask," I chuckle. "When?"

"Saturday night." Shit. Saturday's were an automatic no for me.

That's when Jameson has his "friends" over.

Now you may be thinking, well Juliana, would that really want to make you get out of the house?

Well, allow me to explain why that's not the case. Whenever Jameson has his friends over, normally they'll have little 'tasks' for me to do.

If I do what I'm told, and if I'm quiet about it, normally they'll let me go to my room no problem. And if I don't...

Let's just say they get to have a little extra fun.

Rocco and I finish stretching and move onto warm ups which is a variation of jumps and walkthroughs.

We did a little conditioning, which while it wasn't enjoyable, didn't make me feel like I was dying anymore.

Rocco and I were working on lifts today. We were trying to get a triple Salchow. It was when he would throw me through the air and I would twist a total of three times before I hit the ground.

It was like I was declining instead of progressing. I mean, sometimes I barely made the second rotation before my skate made contact with the ice.

I just didn't understand it. I was more than capable of performing the skill. I'd done it off ice a million times.

But the second the skates came on it was game over.

"I've just about had it with you Juliana." Our coach shouts, skating angrily towards us.

"I know you can do it, so why aren't you?" She scolds while I stand back up from what has to be my 14 hundredth fail of the day.

"If I knew the answer to that, we wouldn't still be here." I mumble and she glares at me.

"If you're just going to waste my time then I might as well call your brother right now." The blood drains from my face as she says this.

"I'm coaching you for him, but I refuse to work with incompetent children who could care less." She chides and I have to mentally congratulate her.

At least she got one thing right. I don't care.

"She's right, ya know." Rocco comments from behind me, coming and sitting on the bleachers beside me.

Our session is done, and he's getting ready to go do whatever it is he does after practice.

"You don't seem like you care very much. You might not like me saying it, and by no means did she have any right to speak to you that way, but you don't care."

I open my mouth, not sure of how I'm going to reply to that, but knowing I need to have some kind of response.

"Just listen to me, okay? I've been skating with you since you were seven. Not gonna lie, seven year old you was a lot more excited than you are now."

Again, I open my mouth to interrupt. I mean, so what if it's true. A lot has happened in 7 years.

"I know, people change and they grow... but I don't see the passion you once had. And you can be mad at me for it, but you know I'm right."

With this he walked away, leaving me to sit there pondering for the next half hour until my next private.

Was skating really something I enjoyed anymore?

The answer was no. Okay, maybe it's less the skating and more the conditioning.

All my muscles were already crying as I pushed open the door of the ice rink. I had opted to leave my skating bag in my coaches office, taking my dance bag with me. I clutched my phone in my hand as I was immersed in the loud, crowded, busy manhattan street.

I press on my earbuds, letting music fill my ears.

I was pushed around as I shoved my way through the crowd of tourists and impatient residents trying to get from point A to point B.

My dance studio was in an odd spot. You had to turn down a couple of blocks onto a shady street or two before you would get to the back of the building.

Once you rounded the building the situation would be one similar to outside the rink, it was just a matter of getting there.

My day continued to pass in a blur, blending with all the others in my mind.

I'm sitting at my desk, staring at nothing. Everything aches, i'm bored out of my mind yet have the motivation to do absolutely nothing.

So I'll just sit here until it's time for Gino to check in on me one last time. Then I'll go to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Except I don't.

"Jensen got pizza." Gino informs me as he burst into my room.

"Alright. I'll grab some later." I comment absentmindedly as I correct some of the shading on my most recent drawing.

I finally got my sketchbook back. Zeke sent it, just like he said he would.

"Whatcha drawing?" Gino inquires, trying to peek over my shoulder but I slam the page shut.

"Nothing. Mind your business." I snap, shoving the sketchbook onto one of the shelves near my leg.

Gino rolls his eyes at me.

"You know, for someone so dependent on me, you're not very nice to me."

I look up to Gino, shocked.

"What the hell are you going on about?" I ask, confused. Where did this come from?

"Nothing. Just forget it. I'm only saying I see why Jameson dislikes you so much." I flinch at that comment, anger brewing inside me.

Jameson's distaste for me had nothing to do with me not wanting to broadcast my drawings.

"You're being ridiculous." I comment, short of any other remarks.

"Am I?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"You couldn't go a single fucking day without whining to me, or needing me to do something for you, or remind you to do something. Hell, you can't even remember to go fucking eat without me forcing you. I'm sick of it, I'm sick of you. But I'm going to keep doing it anyway because I love you." He rants.

With each sentence my heart breaks just a little more. Did I turn to Gino for a conventional amount of things, yes. Did I solely depend on him? No. At least, I don't think so.

I also never thought that I annoyed him so much. I mean, I never asked for him to do all the things he does. Over the years, we had just sort of drifted to taking care of each other. Gino in a more mental, 'You're not alone' factor. And I handled any physical injuries that Jameson caused us. I also listened to him when he needed someone to talk to, and vise versa.

"And then you go, and you leave for an entire month. And I have to take the brunt of Jameson's anger while you're having a relaxing vacation with relatives who apparently love you, and seem like genuinely amazing and nice people." I don't bother replying, because ultimately, I can't argue.

He's right.

While it didn't start on the best terms, I basically got a month long vacation, pain free. While Gino was stuck here, probably getting my share of Jameson's anger. How is that fair?

I guess I really haven't been the best sister lately.

"I'm sorry." That's all I can say. Gino just scoffs at me, shaking his head and looking at me in disgust.

"Just get your ass downstairs." He slams my door on his way out, and that opens the dam to my emotions.

Tears flow freely and I bring both feet into my chair, wrapping my arms around my legs and burying my face in my knees.

It's not fair. It's either I'm doing something wrong, or I was wrong for not doing something.

I stayed in my own little pity party for the next couple of minutes before my door opens.

I tense, expecting it to be one of my older brothers but instead I'm surprised when I turn and see a random man.

He can't be too old. Probably in his early 20's. He's wearing all black and has a gun strapped to his back. A guard.

"Uhh, hello?" He freezes when he sees me sitting there.

"Oh. You're still here." He says slowly, retreating a step or two.

"What are you doing in my room?" I ask, ignoring his previous statement.

"I'm... taking you down to dinner." He stammers, looking lost.

"But I thought you were confused on why I was still here?" I drill, and he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

"Well, you see... what I meant was... I was supposed to check if you were still here, and then bring you down." He seems happy with his explanation, almost like he's mentally patting his back for that one.

"Well you can tell my brother that I'm not coming." I say, putting my head back between my knees and wishing for him to just leave me be.

Unfortunately, I hear his footsteps venture further into my room.

"Have you been crying?" He asks, but gets no reply.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He tries again, but I ignore him.

"You know, sometimes when I'm upset, talking about it helps. Hell, even talking to, sorry about my language there, but even talking to pets, or stuffed toys can help. Sometimes just getting it out there can-"

"All my brothers either hate me, find me annoying, or want nothing to do with me. Happy?" I blurt, desperate to get this weirdo to shut up.

"I'm sure that's not the case. Sure siblings are complicated, but hate? That's a strong word... At the end of the day you're all family. You have to love each other" He trails off when I turn to glare at him.

"Get off my bed!" I yell when I see him perched on my bed, holding my one and only stuffed animal. "And don't touch that." I leap and snatch Juju out of his hands. Uncle Lorenzo gave it to me when I was a little kid.

I named it Juju after Justin and Jamie. Both their names started with J's and it just made sense to four year old me.

But it's the only one I ever got. It was a small little dog that had lost most of its stuffing and it sort of just flopped around when you picked it up.

But that thing had gotten me through some of the worst moments in my life.

I hug Juju to me protectively, staring hard at the stranger on my bed.

"My oldest brother definitely falls under that 'complicated' category. Jensen couldn't give me the time of day, Gino just blew up at me for being annoying, and Jamie just doesn't like me. Try fixing that." I rant.

Should I be telling my personal business to a strange guard? Probably not.

But still, I guess he was right because saying it out loud did make me feel a little bit better.

"I mean, I never asked Gino to do the things he does, but he's mad at me for it. Jameson could care less about me so long as I remember my place, and Jensen keeps snitching on me.

"Jamie loves every second that I'm in trouble because it makes her look better, but god forbid Jamie do anything wrong. No, it's always Juliana's fault. It's. Not. Fair!"

I take in a deep breath when I finish, feeling a bit lighter than before.

"Huh, that really does work." I mumble, and Mystery Guard laughs.

"I wouldn't lie to ya. Give it time. I'm sure everything will work out between you and your siblings. My brother and I couldn't stand each other til we moved away. Then we figured out that there was a mutual friendship there. It just takes time." He reassures me.

Mystery Gaurd takes me down to the kitchen, leaving me at the door with a tip of his imaginary hat.

When I walk into the kitchen it's more than awkward. Everyone is actually seated around the table, eating pizza. And for once, they're all getting along. Jameson is smiling, Jensen is messing around with Jamie and Gino has done a complete 180.

And it all stops when I walk in. Everyone goes quiet, smiles disappear, and the mood takes a shift for the worse.

"You're late, Juliana." Jameson spits, and I nod in acknowledgment.

"I'm aware. I'm sorry." I apologise, hoping that since Jamie is here he'll leave it alone.

"When I give instructions to be somewhere, you don't wait 20 minutes before prancing down on your own time." He scolds, and Jamie takes another big bite of pizza, not bothering to hide her smile.

"I understand. I'm sorry." My voice is low, but still confident enough knowing that he won't do anything here. Not in front of Jamie.

"You may go back to your room now. Don't come down for the rest of the night." He dismisses.

"Yes sir." And I scurry right back out the door with my tail tucked between my legs.

I'm barely out of the room before I hear snickering, from more than just one person. I lean against the wall next to the kitchen door, and let out a sign.

I allow myself to rest there for a moment, breathing deeply and allowing myself to relax.

Any altercations, heck, conversations with Jameson scare me.

It didn't take long for them to pick back up conversations. Just as quickly as it has gone quiet, life returned to the room.

I heard laughing, and Jamie yelling something unintelligible through the door.

I couldn't help the sadness that crept through when I heard them. Don't get me wrong, I was happy that they were having fun, and getting along. But to know that it was because I wasn't there hurt.

I shook it off and started my slow ascent up the stairs back to my room. Along the way, I took the time to notice the pictures that hung on the wall.

I know where most of them took place. For example, there was a picture of Jamie running away from Jensen, both of them in their bathing suits, at the beach. One that I took, actually. It was on one of the few vacations we took when I was younger.

We were probably around nine at the time. I remember being miserable the entire time. Jameson had decided that I needed to be grounded the day before we left, so the entire vacation I was told that I wasn't allowed to participate in this or that, and I was given the job of photographer.

That was fun for a nine year old, let me tell you.

There was a family portrait (that I don't remember taking) from when Jamie and I were like 3 or 4. Mom, dad, Jensen and Gino were all smiling brightly at the camera.

Jamie was pouting in Mom's arms, and Jameson was holding me upside down tickling me.

Neither of us were looking a the camera, me laughing and trying to squirm away without falling, and Jameson was focussed on me, watching me with probably the biggest smile I've ever seen on his face.

Next to it was a more recent picture. It only contained us siblings, and none of us were smiling. At least, not like in the previous one.

Jamie and Jensen were the closest to genuine smiles, Gino had a little half smile on his face, but his eyes gave away how exhausted he was. Jameson wasn't even trying to smile, just stood there stoically, and me?

I was staring off into the distance, looking like I was clueless to the fact that a picture was being taken.

The next picture was one with Jameson and Jamie. I'm actually not sure where they were this time. It looks like they were in a froyo shop, and both of them were smiling widely at the camera. It looked like a selfie. Jamie's face was covered in yoghurt and she was laughing.

The next one was most definitely a selfie with all us siblings and a few of Jameson's friends. Devon being one of them.

We were on a walk that day. That was the day Jensen got his teaching certification.

It was December, and so to celebrate he asked that we all take a walk through one of the wooded parks that put up light shows along their walking trails. The actual picture had all of us staggered in different spots, smiling or posing at the camera.

Jensen was giving two thumbs up at the camera, Jameson had his arm around him.

Jamie and Devon were sticking their tongues out at the camera.

Gino and I were leaning against each other, he had his arms wrapped around me and we were smiling like there was no tomorrow.

Surprisingly, there were a lot of photos like that. Where everyone was smiling and happy. Yet as I walked through the hallway I realised that they were all mostly fake.

The Christmas photo, for example. Jameson and Devon beat the absolute tar out of me not half an hour beforehand.

That was also the first time Gino had left The Room in over a week.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the memories.

When I get closer to my room I notice that my door is open.

"Weird, I thought I shut it.' It's not a big deal though, I was probably just distracted with the Mystery Guard.

I go inside, making sure I've closed my door this time. I walk over to my desk, checking my phone even though I know there's probably nothing interesting.

The group chat had a few notifications. Angelo and Hunter apparently did some stupid shit and Justin, Micelo, and Zeke were teasing the fuck out of them.

I'd just put my phone down when I heard a thump in my bathroom. Like someone jumping.

I froze, noticing for the first time that my bathroom door was also open, which is pretty standard, but the light was also on.

That's not normal.

I took a tentative step forward, listening for more noise.

I heard nothing, so I ventured forward another cautious step, trying to decide if I should book it to the door or not.

I hear another thud, and then a curse.

Okay definitely a person.

I creep around my bed and towards the bathroom door, keeping my head slowly around the corner, trying not to be noticed.

I see somebody with their back turned towards me.

All black clothing, gun strapped to back, purple cufflink.

"Can I help you?" I ask the guard, startling him as I make myself visible.

"You again." I commented in surprise. Mystery Guard swung his head to look at me, a terrified look in his eyes.

"Why uh... why aren't you at dinner?" He inquires, turning to face me.

"What are you doing in my room?" I ignore his previous question, feeling it was more of my right to be controlling the conversation than his.

"Well, I um... see, funny thing is- I just... I have no real- Hey what are you doing?" He asks as I venture over to the wall.

Right underneath my vent there was a little step stool, right up against the counter. I used the stool to help me up onto the sink. I peeked around, trying to see if I could find anything, and then turned to survey the bathroom.

From this angle I was adjacent to the shower, the toilet, the sink was right below me, and the door in front of me and off to the left a little.

I observed everything, trying to see if anything was out of place, or missing. But nothing seemed different.

If I hadn't walked in on him, I would have never known Mystery Guard was in here.

"Who are you?" I ask, still looking around the bathroom suspiciously.

"Me? I'm no one. Just a guard." He assures me, shaking his head and looking above me nervously.

"You should probably get down from there. Wouldn't want you to fal-" He was cut off by my door being slammed open, and me losing my balance.

I stumbled, trying to step out to the side to catch my balance, but there was nothing there to stabilise on. Gravity pulls me down, and I hit the floor shoulder first groaning in pain.

"Juliana!" I hear Jameson roar, beyond angry.

"I'd hide if I were you." I advise, my voice coming out strained as I pick myself off the floor, holding my shoulder gingerly.

He doesn't get the chance to even consider my words as Jameson barges into my bathroom. He takes one glance at Mystery Guard and loses his shit.

"What the hell are you doing with him in your room? Did you bring him here to fuck you? Is that it?" He yells.

He doesn't allow me to respond as he grabs my upper arm and all but throws me into the tub, causing me to fall and bang my head on the way down. The sound echoes through the bathroom and I see Mystery Guard flinch.

"You get the fuck out." Jameson demands, and Mystery Guard looks torn but Jameson has already moved onto me.

"If I wanted to raise a fucking whore then I could have made a whole lot of money off you, you know." He snaps, realising that Mystery Guard hasn't moved and shoves him out, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"Nowhere for you to run now, bitch."



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Sorry for another late update. I always feel so bad making you guys wait so long for the chapters, so I'm going to make another vote. Do you like:

Longer chapters + Less frequent updates?

Shorter chapters + More frequent updates?