Impossible to Forget

"Sis, you okay?" my 20 year old brother, Jonathan asked. His light brown hair, the same shade as mine, flopped in front of his blue eyes. People would have looked at us as twins if it weren't for my green eyes.

He had always been extremely protective of me.

He was only inches away from me and yet, I saw two of his heads. Was that possible? Oh god, I have to shake off this nostalgia. Having not slept for a week can have this effect on you but I just couldn't sleep. I would either wake up screaming or have sweat dripping down my face. Not even sleeping pills were effective. Everyone was worried about me but I always managed a smile and reassured them that everything was fine.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"You don’t look like it,” he said.

I instantly remembered the make- up that I had used to cover up my bags. Was it wasting away?

"I'm fine," I said, "I just want some sleep."

He looked at me as if trying to figure out whether I was lying or not but soon gave up. He stuck some headphones into his ears and closed his eyes, dozing off. Lucky bastard.

Even though it was dark through the windows, my mind wasn't in the mode to sleep so I grabbed a random french magazine and started reading. Wow, I was on the front cover. Surprise, surprise. A fan had been planted in front of me, my curls flying behind me; supermodel style.

But that was a few days ago. I was going to quit modeling. For good. I don't have the energy anymore to strut down the runway with five inch heels on and the lights blinding my eyes. After my mother had passed away and how James had tried to rape me, I just can't concentrate. That's why my Aunt Linda suggested L.A.

I haven't been in L.A. for seven years. I wonder how things have changed. Being the rich businessman he is, my father as well as my aunt took a flight several days before us to L.A.

I propped the magazine back in its slot just as the Pilot announced we're in a thunderstorm and should remain in our seats. As if.

Feeling a need to reapply my makeup, I popped back on my PRADA sunglasses and glanced over my snoozing brother. Being the ignorant child I am, I walked down the aisle towards the bathroom. Halfway down though, I tripped over someone's foot and landed face- down on the airplane carpet.

Ouch, that hurt. I looked up to see a guy sitting in the front class white seats about my age smirking at me. Boy, was he hot. He was a golden bronze color with tousled dirty blonde hair and a sea pool of blue eyes.

I felt guilty of those thoughts as I remembered Adriene shouting 'I Love You' before I boarded my plane.

“Hasn’t your mother ever taught you to keep your feet to yourself?” I asked as I took hold of an armrest and picked myself up.

“It’s not my fault you have no balance,” he smirked.

I opened my mouth to reply but then the airplane shifted thanks to the stupid thunderstorm. I automatically lost my balance as the airplane shifted yet again but a cool hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me onto his lap. I squirmed.

“Hold still,” he said.

“In your dreams,” I said. I plucked his hands off of my waist and slid into the empty chair next to him. I secured the seat belt against myself and sighed a breath of relief as the plane started to fly smoothly again.

"You look familiar," he said.

"So I've been told," I said. However, as soon as I landed on my own two feet, I started to lose conscious. Everything in my perspective was spinning and I couldn’t stand still even though I was only wearing flats. I suddenly felt a pair of two strong hands envelope around me; the same pair that had saved me before. My PRADA sunglasses fell to the floor with a clang.

"Shit," he muttered, “You okay?”

He held onto me as I slowly worked my way towards the cushioned seat. I finally sat down and blinked a couple of times to regain my sight but I still felt weak. I looked up at the guy to see my green eyes reflect in his livid blue eyes filled with worry.

When he met my eyes, his face was priceless. "Stephanie? Stephie?" he said.

No one had called me Stephie in seven years. I suddenly became aware where I had seen those beautiful blue eyes before.

"B-b-Brandon?" I stammered.

"Wow,” he said, "I never thought I'd see you again." He raked his fingers through his dirty blonde hair making it even more messy and hot.

Instead, I pushed back those feelings as I put back on my sunglasses and abruptly stood on my two feet. However, I stumbled but Brandon was right beside me and caught my flailing arms.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, “I never knew you to have this bad of a balance.” I could see he was truly concerned but I was trying really hard to hide this from everyone, the fact that I can’t sleep. They would just send me to therapy sessions AGAIN.

“Let me go,” I said shaking him off, “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look like it,” he said.

“Why the hell do you give the shit?” I screamed, “It’s not your business!”

Not to mention, along with fainting, came crabbiness without sleep.

I wobbly headed towards the bathroom, clutching the arm- rests to guide me. On the way there, I grabbed a towel from one of the airline ladies who insisted I sit down. I waved her away. When I reached the bathroom, I slammed the door shut to see myself reflected in the mirror but it wasn't the usual me. I looked horrible, well worse than I usually did. My bags were apparent and my hair was really disheveled as well as losing its shine that it used to have. My brown curls framed around my pale heart shaped face making me look more of a ghost than I already did.

I sighed and splashed some coldwater onto my face before wiping it away with the towel. I then took out my makeup out of my hoodie pocket which consisted of eyeliner, concealer and eyeshadow. I quickly applied them on and then opened the bathroom door. Leaning against the wall looking like the rich boy he was was Brandon Chasden. I ignored him and attempted to walk out unseen.

“I think this belongs to you,” he said throwing a pink bedazzled Sidekick LX at me. It was vibrating with several new texts when I abruptly turned to catch it. It must’ve slipped out of my jeans pockets.

I didn't say anything, not even a thank you.

“Your makeup can’t fool anyone,” he said coming closer, “You’re not the same Stephie I knew.”

“That Stephie was seven fricking years ago,” I said.

I don't know why but just looking at him reminded me of James. Why did every guy in this world have to be a frickin pervert?

“Stephie…” he started but I fled. I wiped away all my tears smearing my makeup. I stood up to go to the bathroom again but the speaker announced we were landing and I was afraid I must see Brandon again.

My phone then vibrated with a new text. I flipped open my sidekick and checked my inbox.