Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ainsley

Ainsley, age fifteen…

There's a deep-rooted belief that being the child of a celebrity is almost like winning the lottery. You have everything you ever wanted, instant celebredom—if that's even a word—and so many friends that you never have enough time to hang out with all of them.

Clearly, none of those people know about us, the Decker triplets.

We're the children of Gabe Colt, who, according to Wikipedia, is a producer, director, and Oscar/Emmy Award-winning actor of over five hundred films and shows.

Nowhere on that page is there a mention of my brothers or me.

God forbid he lets anyone know that his partner and the father of his children is the rockstar legend, Chris Decker. Yep, we have two fathers, no mother—unless we count the egg donor or the surrogate who carried us for twenty-eight weeks.

We call Gabe, Dad and Chris, Papa, so it doesn't get confusing. They love us, but they've been hiding us for the past fifteen years.

We're invisible. Jacob Christian, Matthew James, and Ainsley Janine Colthurst-Decker don't exist.

For the record, we were born in Switzerland via a surrogate mother, raised in Portland, and well, we still live here on a ten-acre estate with almost everything we need, except other people. I have never been to a party unless we count spending Christmas in Albany with Dad's big family.

We're not one hundred percent isolated, but we avoid outsiders.

I used to attend the occasional summer camp while growing up. My brothers, who are a weird combo of music geeks and jocks, still go to them.

We are homeschooled. Our tutors come from different places in the country and the world. Have I visited Disney World? Sure, my grandparents have taken us on vacation. We never go with our parents. As I mentioned, they don't talk about their personal lives to anyone.

To the world, they're just two celebrities who happen to be single and are also best friends. No one finds it strange when Papa is Dad's plus one during a charity event or an award ceremony.

If I called one of those gossip magazines, they'd pay me a lot of money for an exclusive on their life. But I would never do that. People can't understand that love is love and two men can be crazy about each other.

I don't like that they need to hide their relationship from the world. They claim it's for the sake of their careers and ours. And if anyone learned that we exist, we'd be paparazzi catnip.

Do I hate my family dynamic?

I loathe my life. I'm fifteen and have never had a boyfriend. I've never kissed or even held hands with a guy.

I only have one true friend. Mason Bradley. He's the son of my parents' head of security. I like him a lot but having only one friend sucks.

Unless I count Porter Kendrick, he's a new addition to our family. I was almost thirteen when he came to live with us. He's okay, but then, there are times when he ignores me for days. He's mysterious and intrigues me. I'm very protective of him, because he suffered a lot before coming to us. I'd help him even more if he let me, but he's as skittish as a wild animal.

My favorite thing in the world is music.

Honestly, I love music more than I like people—I can create magic with it. If I combine a series of notes, they can become a soothing or snappy melody. Imitating the sound of the river running downstream is easy, and I do it often. Creating music is like having superpowers.

The most important thing about music is that it never leaves me. Melody, harmony, rhythm, and timbre are constant. I can use them any time I want. They don't deceive me, lie to me, or hide me because I'm inconvenient.

Music is always with me, inside my head, close to my heart. The beating of my heart changes with my mood and I create a lot of melodies with that in mind.

Am I angry at my parents?

Of course I am, and no one should blame me for that. I'm about to graduate from high school, and I won't attend my graduation ceremony. There's no prom or a special trip to celebrate. I'll start college with tutors—again. I can't possibly think they'll let me leave the house at sixteen.

I'm a bird inside an expensive cage. Sure, my parents love me, but I don't get to live. I want to live.

"Are you busy?" I hear the voice and the corners of my lips lift all the way to the ceiling.

I close the piano lid, swing my legs, and turn around. Ah, there he is, my best friend.

"Hello, Mase." I propel myself off the stool and jump into his open arms, hugging him tightly.

"How are you, Nine?"

Mason is also a math genius who correlates everything with numbers. As it became my permanent nickname, I call him Ten—but not as often as he calls me Nine.

"Ugh, you need to stop calling me that. The name is Janine, not J-nine. You can call me Ainsley, Ainse, or AJ as many do in this house. Not Nine."

He bursts into laughter, putting me down. I'm tempted to run a hand through his messy dark hair. I should give him a comb for his birthday, or maybe a razor. He's constantly sporting a stubble that makes him look older than nineteen.

"Stop laughing at me, Mason Bradley," I warn him.

His gray eyes are filled with humor.

"How's school?" I ask, trying to divert his attention. He might be four years older than me, but sometimes he behaves like a child.

"It's over," he answers. "I finished my master's degree."

Of course he did. He's super smart, strong, and sometimes I wonder if he's real. He's more like a superhero from those comic books he mails to me. He has the face and intelligence of Tony Stark, but the body of Captain America.

"How about your company?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "It's… prolific."

"That's code for you're about to become a millionaire."

He smirks. "That's the idea. This summer, I'm working for my father."

I quirk a questioning eyebrow. "You own a company. Why would you do that?"

"The world needs more than just a video game creator," he answers. "Where are your brothers?"

I try not to roll my eyes, annoyed. "Probably destroying something or… who knows? You know Jacob and Matthew can be a handful. So why are you here?"

"A guy can't come and visit his friends?"

"I wouldn't know. When people come to the estate it's usually because my parents need them for something."

He bobs his head a couple of times. "I've lived here for long periods, and I still forget how things are with your family. It's weird."

"Sometimes I wish I could transport myself into a sitcom, like that movie, Pleasantville . I bet shows are more normal than my life."

He gives me a look that's a mix between pity and… well, I'm not sure what the other emotion is, and I prefer to ignore it. "Stop stalling. Tell me why you came to visit."

"As I mentioned, I'm working for Dad. I'm taking your brothers to their sports camp. Are you going this year?"

I press my lips together, containing the tears clogging my throat. My brothers are leaving—again. If I were a boy, it'd be the three inseparable amigos going everywhere. The three of us are close, but we'll never be as close as Mattie and Jackie are. Rumor has it they're fraternal twins—same egg donor and same sperm donor. I only share the egg with them, but not the sperm. My dad is Chris.

Even when our parents haven't done any DNA testing to confirm, it's obvious. Mattie and Jacob are identical to Gabe. Tall, blue eyes, dark-blond hair. They're Nordic gods.

Unlike me. I'm only three inches above five feet. My dark curly hair and my eyes are green like Chris's. We don't need scientific proof to tell us what anyone can see. I'm different, and though they love me, Mattie and Jacob are like one person.

"Nope. I stopped going a couple of years ago," I say as casually as I can.

Am I sad because I'm staying while they're having fun and our parents are going on their annual vacation to their private island? Yes, so much that I want to run to my room and crawl under my bed.

"Then, what will you be doing all summer?"

I shrug. "Grandma and I are going to Europe in July. I don't know about the rest. It's up to my parents. When I turn eighteen and I'm allowed to go to college, I'll find a job and never return."

"If I didn't have to work, I'd visit you," he says, ignoring my comment.

I wave a hand as if saying, it-doesn't-matter-I'm-okay. "Porter is staying too. I won't be alone."

His jaw tenses, but he doesn't say anything. I know he's not a fan of Porter, but it's because he's never taken the time to get to know him.

"If you need anything while your parents are away, call me."

"It's not like we don't email almost daily. You should get an AOL account."

He smiles. "I'll do something better for you."

I'm hoping he'll say something like, I'll take you with me. While your brothers are busy, we'll explore the world. I'll show you what you've been missing for the past fifteen years.

Excitedly I ask, "What?"

"I'm going to create a chat that'll be just ours."

"Oh joy, another software invention." My words drip with sarcasm.

"Since you don't appreciate me, I'm going to check on your brothers. We have to leave soon."

I wave at him. "See you around, Mase."

He winks. "You will, that I promise."