His profile’s description is: Med student. Lover of fine things.
Killian’s account is less chaotic than Nikolai’s. In fact, it’s aesthetically pleasing with warm colors and a lot of positive energy. Parties. Med students’ gatherings. Friends. Family. People.
Lots and lots of people and faces and smiles and life.
It’s the perfect façade for his rotten insides.
He’s either smiling or laughing or smirking in pictures. Some are taken in exotic places, others are on filthy-rich properties. Not only does his family have money, but he likes to show it, too.
The more I scroll, the surer I am that Killian is the male version of the social butterfly that’s taken over Ava and Annika, but without their sincerity.
Killian is flat out mimicking the youth’s obsession with social media and he’s doing it way better than they do since charisma comes naturally to him.
But I know that each of his smiles is undeniably fake.
As I go through his profile, I can tell why people would be so attracted to him. There are a lot of beautiful men around, but there are only a handful with his level of easygoing attractiveness. He doesn’t have to try to attract people’s attention like a magnet.
They flock to him like a moth to a flame without knowing they’ll burn if they get too close.
Or if he sets his sights on them.
I click on a family picture in which an elegantly dressed woman, whom I assume is his mother, sits on a high-back baroque chair. Her expression is of a badass queen as she holds the hand of a man that rests on her shoulder. Her husband—considering his resemblance to both Gareth and Killian—stands right behind her wearing a smirk. Both Gareth’s and Killian’s faces, however, are full of horror.
I scroll sideways for another picture in which she’s laughing, her husband’s expression is solemn, and Gareth appears relieved. Killian is throwing his head back in laughter.
Unlike the other picture, this laugh doesn’t seem completely fake. It’s not genuine either—just right in the middle.
My attention slides to the caption.
The difference between ‘Maybe I’ll give you boys a little sister, after all’ and ‘Just kidding, look at your faces.’
I notice a pattern where Killian posts more family pictures with his mother and his aunt, his mum’s identical twin, who’s also Nikolai’s mother, than with his father or Gareth.
In fact, the only time he posts a picture of his father is when his mother is around.
And there’s only one time where he’s posted a picture of Gareth, who’s out for a run in the rain.
My big bro’s leg day might turn into swim day in this weather. Get it together, England.
However, there are tons of pictures of his mother. In the last one, he has a selfie of her trying to feed him a biscuit while he scrunches his face.
I told my favorite woman that I stopped being six more than a decade ago, and she said “Not on my watch” as she stuffed me with a cookie. Thoughts on convincing your mom you’ve grown up?
Then he has another picture where he’s standing between his mother and aunt. His mum pinches his jaw while laughing and his aunt grins.
Guess who’s the queens’ escort for the night? Be mad @nikolai_sokolov.
My eyes blur with all the similar images. The normal, hyper, absolutely mesmerizing documentation of his life.
Oh, he’s good.
He’s so good at blending in that even I am starting to wonder if it’s all real.
I go back up to the last picture he posted about five hours ago of the five neon purge masks.
Night of mischief.
I scroll up and I freeze as the profile refreshes. During my snooping, he posted another picture.
It’s black and white, showing his middle and ring finger inside a mouth.
My mouth.
This is the picture he took earlier when I was underneath him as he told me I can hide from the whole world but not him.
Nothing is visible aside from my neck and my lips, but I know it’s me.
Damn him.
God damn him.
My fingers shake as I scroll to the caption.
Caught a little rabbit tonight and I decided to keep it.
Keep it, my butt.
I’m fuming, and all the ‘that’s hot’ and ‘holy fuck’ comments aren’t helping. So I close the app and throw the phone on my bed.
Then I think better of it. How dare the bastard post that picture of me after the whole show with Cherry?
He wants to play?
I will play.
It takes me five minutes to find the sketch I was playing with at lunch earlier. I place it beside the blank canvas and pick up my warm colors.
I only have a vague idea of where I’m taking this, but stroke after stroke, the image comes into focus.
For the first time, I’m thankful I don’t have a problem painting humans, and I do so with flying colors.
My creation stares back at me with a soft expression. It’s an imaginary man who, unlike Killian, has blond hair, hazel eyes, and a dimpled smile. There’s a softness in his gaze and he looks so nice that I get a huge grin.
After adjusting the lights, I take a picture of the painting and post it on IG with the caption ‘My type.’
Annika is the first one to comment.
annika-volkov: SO cute *heart eyes emoji*
the-ava-nash: Bitch, what? I mean WHAT? Where’s this fine specimen and why haven’t we interrogated him yet?
cecily-knight: What Ava said.
ariella-jailbait-nash: Go, girl.
lord-remington-astor: No, no, go back? I reserve veto rights on this cunt who looks untrustworthy as fuck.
Cecily and Ava gang up on him. Ariella defends him, and Annika keeps fawning and creates a separate thread for her and Ava’s socializing column.
I smile, pleased with myself. Mission accomplished.
As soon as I sit down, my phone vibrates.
I startle as the message across the screen reads:
Psycho: Like fuck he is.
19
KILLIAN
I kick some boy Nikolai brought over out of my path.
Actually, make that two boys and a random girl.
My cousin usually has more women than men around, but he’s been acting strange since the initiation last night.
The boys are hammered, probably high, and don’t even whine as I push them with my foot.
Nikolai, however, isn’t between them, gracing us with a porn show first thing in the morning. Exhibitionism is the foundation of his soul, and while voyeurism isn’t something I’m against, it’s annoying when they all start shouting and irritating my sensitive ears with their noise.
After the initiation was over, White left without bothering to see who got in. No surprise there since he only cares about the game part, not the administrative part—same.
Gareth and Jeremy stuck around to welcome our two new members. The first is Cherry. I have a feeling she’s the one my idiot brother escorted into the compound and followed her around like he’s her puppy.