Hold my hand dear, watch me

move

Through the lines of deceit,

past

the ache of betrayal and

heartache.

Somehow you will be free

and

maybe you might

find

salvation in the arms of

love.

In the Takahashi household, we are a moderately normal family consisting of myself, my brother and his expecting wife Minami. If you peer inside our window and watch us, we seem very caring about each other, lovely even. Breakfast and dinner always on the table at seven in the morning and six in the evening, a healthy family and a healthy meal make for a good table. We eat and converse and laugh sometimes, small talk and a decent meal put us to the television later. A mutual interest in Doctor Who plays and we watch for a little while, take turns using the shower in between commercial breaks and then go to bed. If you looked at us, you would see normality, nothing special about us, nothing unique or interesting. Just plain normal.

We have normal expectations of one another, chores and such, I bring home some grocery money from my work at the small convenient store down the street. I keep my grades at a moderate B average, friends here and there find their way to me when they need me. A party, a buzz here and there, but nothing ever really interesting. Nothing new or exciting, just bland normal.

I watch everyone move, the slowness in their steps, the creases from frowns and smiles always leaving indents in their faces. Sometimes I wonder if all this boring bland normalcy will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Please understand, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or callous, but there's nothing truly worth living for. Everyday life turns to routine, routine turns to frustration, frustration turns to bottled resentment, resentment turns to madness. In the end, aren't we all just chasing our tails, hoping that something new and interesting will happen? I know this sounds terribly cynical, especially with how much opportunity I've been given with my parents' death, but I want more than just this never ending routine.

There has to be something better than this, right?

I think that as I open the door to mine and my brother's apartment, inside a grey haired stranger is embracing my brother, lovingly, longingly against the wall. My brother, smiling and laughing, is for a moment oblivious to me, but that stranger with grey hair and violet eyes locks into me instantly. Takahiro looks to the door where I am, and smiling ever so warmly, says, "Misaki, this is my friend, Usami Akihiko."

Is it natural to be attracted to someone so much older than you? Is it right to want to kiss him at first glance, to rip him away from your brother's arms and see what's behind a thick coat and dress shirt (and pants)? Is it sane to want to show a grown man what youth can do when the world isn't looking?

"He doesn't look a thing like you, Takahiro." His dismissive smirk grates my nerves and makes me want to show him who I really am.

Is it ok to find that annoying, agitating (and hot as hell)?

Yes, but that doesn't stop me from wanting him a little more.

I wanted to twist the Romantica plot up a little, put some angst and drama in. It's been a while but I'm hoping you guys will see some improvement. Also, the poem up top is all mine, but I won't lie I was inspired by the format of Ellen Hopkins (best author/poet ever). I've been reading her masterpieces lately and that's kind of what inspired me to write this, mostly the Crank series and Impulse and her newest ones Tricks and Perfect. Highly recommended books, you won't be able to stop once you start. Anyway, I will gladly take any suggestions my readers offer me, but please send it through via Private Message.

Thanks guys, and best of wishes in 2012!