The moment my eyes landed on him, the name dropped into my mind before he even spoke.
I’d heard of him before.
Not much, just fragments that floated around whenever Dave’s family came up in hushed, awkward conversations. The eldest son of Morris, who walked away with his sister.
The one who chose distance over drama. The one who never came back... until now.
At first glance, he could have passed for Dave’s twin, just the blonde version.
Same tall frame, same broad shoulders, same set of the jaw that made people think twice before crossing them. But the differences... they were impossible to miss.
Where Dave’s hair was a jet black that drank in the light, Nicole’s was golden, catching it and throwing it back like it was spun from something rare.
His eyes were softer in shape but not in weight, seemed to carry something serious which I could not pin point.
Even the way he stood was different. Dave was always braced, like life might throw a punch any second. Nicole... he looked like he’d already taken the hit and learned how to keep standing.
It was unsettling, how familiar and unfamiliar he felt all at once. Like meeting a version of Dave who’d lived a different life.
"It’s nice to meet you. I am Nicole Morris." He walked in as he was familiar with everything, though we met for the first time.
"Dave’s step-brother?" It got out more like a statement than a question. His one eyebrow raised, surprise evident in his eyes.
"And you must be...," he stopped, making me realize that he did not know who I was.
Mainly, who am I to Dave?
So, I completed for him and introduced myself with a polite smile plastered on my lips.
"I am Elena. Dave’s..." My words faltered, not knowing how to introduce myself.
Wife? No. Friend? Not really. Acquaintance? That sounded ridiculous.
I hesitated, lips pressing together as if that pause alone might magically finish the sentence for me.
Nicole didn’t push. Instead, he tilted his head, waiting, his golden hair catching the light again like he had all the time in the world.
The silence stretched long enough to make my palms clammy.
Finally, I settled on the safest option. "...I work with him."
It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either.
His lips curved, half amusement, half curiosity.
"Work with him, huh?" His voice was calm as he studied me for a second longer, as if he could see through the cracks in my words. But then, just as quickly, he let it go.
Relief washed over me, though I wasn’t sure why.
That’s when Dave entered the van.
Sweat covering his forehead as the other spot boy wipes it off. The director’s voice echoed in the background, "The next scene will be in ten minutes. So, rest up, everybody."
Holding a script in his hand, he kept his eyes glued to the papers as he entered.
Nicole turned and greeted him, "You have gone bigger than the last time I saw you, Dave."
Dave finally looked away from the script as his eyes landed on the person standing between us. The moment his eyes landed on Nicole, his whole stature froze.
The air shifted, thick and tense, like an invisible thread had been pulled tight between them.
Dave’s face went blank, too blank, the kind of expression that wasn’t neutral but controlled, the kind someone wore when emotions threatened to spill, but they refused to let them.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just stood there, staring at the man who looked so much like him, yet not at all.
And suddenly, I understood that whatever history lay between them, it was heavier than anything I’d imagined.
"When did you arrive?" It felt like an eternity had passed with awkward tension in the environment when he spoke out, cutting it in half.
Nicole shook his head with a mysterious smile curved up on his lips, "God, it feels like you never changed."
This time, the corner of Dave’s lips curved slightly, a smug look appearing on his face, "Some habits die hard."
I noticed what he was trying to do. Though in all these years I never focused on myself, instead I hovered over Dave for my entire life.
For most of the part, it was an idiotic and creepy behaviour of mine which did not go well but now, I was seeing through his facade.
This smile was not a normal smile but a cover to hide whatever he was feeling in that moment.
The thing seemed usual, but the part to notice was that he always used a cold expression and never smiled.
Moreover, the smile did not reach his eyes. It seemed more like a coping mechanism.
His eyes were a shade darker as if something took over him.
The tension in the air seemed suffocating enough to choke me if I dared to breathe too loudly, but it did not bother Nicole.
He stood there all tall with a smile plastered over his face.
"Anyway, Grandpa asked me to come here to invite you to the upcoming ball. It’s next month.
The official invitations will be sent next week. I hope you can attend it," he said casually, like he wasn’t aware of the storm brewing in the tiny space.
His words rolled out smoothly, almost teasing.
A ball for what? I thought to myself, and as soon as the thought came into my mind, Nicole answered it.
"It’s for the company’s anniversary," he continued, "And Grandpa wants to meet you, so try to make some time this week for our Sunday brunch. There are some things that need to be discussed."
Okay, awkward... Why in the world his every word sound double-meaning?
I scrutinize him from head to toe, trying to find any crack to see through his smiling facade, but I fail miserably.
Dave just nodded in response as he put the full stop on the conversation, "Sure." I internally shook my head, seeing clearly how Dave was holding himself.
And the drama of the week begins.
I cannot even imagine what will happen in the future, and I don’t even want to.