Andre

The last six months with your now-ex-boyfriend were a slow death throe. You both knew there was no future, but you continued to play "couple" until the silence in the apartment became deafening. After the breakup, you burned out everything that reminded you of him, and the last thing you expected was to encounter his shadow again—your younger brother, Andre.

You and Andre were the same age, and you used to appreciate his easygoing nature. But now he was just a reminder of the failure of your lives.

The club was packed that night. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around, ready to curse. It was Andre. He smelled strongly of whiskey, his gaze was clouded, and his movements were awkward.

"I love you," he said straight to your face, drowning out the bass. "For months now... I can't stay silent any longer. Give me a chance. I swear I'm not like him."

You looked at his cheekbones, his jawline, his figure—everything about him was painfully familiar. The anger that had been building for months burst forth: —Look at yourself, Andre! You're the spitting image of him! You're his spitting image! I can't stand the sight of you! Go away.

You were sure he wouldn't even remember this conversation in the morning. It was just drunken nonsense, you thought, falling asleep in your empty apartment.

But the next day, as you were returning home, you saw a guy standing in the courtyard near your building. When he looked up, you almost dropped your bag.

Andre. He bleached his hair so much that it was completely white, almost glowing in the sun. This radical step instantly erased the frightening resemblance to his dark-haired older brother. His brown eyes now looked at you soberly and with such a frightening seriousness that you felt uneasy.

"I remembered every word you said," he said quietly, approaching you. "Every single one. You say I remind you of him in my appearance. Now—no?"

"Listen... My brother is selfish. He couldn't lift a finger for you, he just watched you die next to him! But I'll do anything for you. Anything to make you happy, just to erase the memories of him.

—I beg you, give me a chance!