His homely, one-bedroom studio apartment was extremely small. The furniture were a mix-n-match affair. The apartment was done in an overall peach theme with sprinkles of orange and some bold red tastefully colored on. Some blue and green finished the overall three-dimensional canvas. Lynn had helped out and she had an eye for fragile, yet, precious crystals that actually seemed to blend in with the simplicity of the furnishings he had decided upon.

"And now for the latest news. Another girl has been found murdered in the town of Eaeshore. Police are investigating the matter.

Someone has gotten a change of heart. MacroTough announced that it will no longer flaunt their monopoly power and exploit their customers. It is giving away free computers to the various charities as a sign of their commitment to keep their prices low and software bug free in future.

Rioters, dissatisfied with the vastly popular MacDucky which they claimed to be the manifestation of the exploitative nature of Capitalism, had been successfully rounded up by the NYPD. MacDucky spokesman had exclaimed pleasure at the freedom to preach conformism again…."

And so the endless stream of news kept pouring into the small apartment. Isaiah frowned at the news about the murder. Homicides were too rampant and common for comfort.

He entered the living room and switched the television off when the newscaster had nothing else of interest for him. The sun’s ray streamed into his apricot little nest in orange streaks that splashed across the walls, gracing Isaiah’s humble abode with an infinitesimal of its majesty- its fiery beauty.

Isaiah lived on the 35^th storey of a high-rise apartment building. He was inspired and had brought out his violin to the balcony- a classical piece was nagging at him and refused to let his mind rest unless he set it free. And he wanted to set it free.

He had splurged on the 1925 "Johann Glass" Leipzig violin with his first paycheck. His first salary pay- out was not enough of course for something that, though not the best, was very exquisite. But he had money saved from part-time work in college. It was enough. He had enough.

Air for the G String, a violin solo arrangement of Bach’s immortalized Air on the G String, was revealed perfectly with each coax of the violin- the languid, bittersweet piece described his mood that morning perfectly. The beauty of daylight always stirred in Isaiah a desire to let his violin sing to the world with its delicate voice. Delicate because had Isaiah been an incompetent violinist, the violin would be screeching and whining most ear-piercingly. But Isaiah was a skillful player and thus the violin sang sonorously, smoothly, and most importantly, soulfully with its velvet vocals.

And the heaviness in his heart for all those years drew him to melancholic pieces that were at the same time- gorgeous and always exuding largo, whether they meant to or not.

Isaiah wished he was one with the lazy clouds, just drifting pass insouciantly in a good way. He felt like he cared too much- sometimes he wanted a break from the world.

He pretended for a while it was Little Lijah seducing the violin, not him. That he was only an audience, witnessing the birth of a prodigy.

Only it was not to be. His heart grew heavy with the reminder of his brother. Somehow, he suspected that Elijah no longer cared about music which had held the two brothers in thrall when they were young. He closed his eyes and tried to get into Elijah’s mind but he could not. Elijah was a foreigner.

Breaking his solo concert, Isaiah glanced up at the clock, wondering if he should actually return to the office on a Saturday. Maybe he could call in sick and just sleep the whole day away.

However, he could not. He was responsible. His work was dear to him, even though it terrified him at times. Besides, he really wanted to see his brother again, despite the dread he was feeling.

***

Isaiah fetched Lynn from her own apartment block, just two streets away from his. The moment Lynn stepped inside his car, she began grumbling about how sickening it was to be stuck once again in the office. While she was outstation, she was not doing much except making trying to make progress in new methods of hacking and other exciting little things to do with bytes and waves. Her job held her hostage to the computer and the notebook, always having to hack into one system to the next; to device ways- from learning about others’ mistakes- on how to make Network’s own network more secured.

And from what Isaiah heard from her lips, she did not like it one bit, preferring his which was more on-the-scene orientated.

He could not really register her words though everything she said sounded pretty to his ears. He loved her voice, loved her looks and loved her soul. In short, he loved her. She brought him much happiness even though she may not know it. But just seeing her made him felt like he was most blessed creature in the world.

"…and so, with the amount of new organizations popping up…I was going like…where am I going to find the time to pay their IP addresses a visit? I mean, give me a break…I just don’t see why I should go back on a Sammmffff...."

He reached over with one hand and playfully muffled her. Stealing a quick glance while they were halted by a red light, he saw that she was slightly peeved.

"You talk too much sometimes…but I love it still…" He released his hand and she slinked back onto the seat, her lips curled up on one side in annoyance.

"I love you."

And she was startled by the sudden declaration of love. He saw her eyes widened in shock and very slowly, her cheeks flushed crimson.

The lights turned green and he drove off again, knowing she would react that way and not liking how she had not failed his deductions. He had wanted to say those prized three words for a very long time. It was only after realizing the despondency, which came after the meeting with Elijah, had not taken away his urge to profess his love for her that he knew he really needed to make it clear to her. Make it so blatant that he was extremely serious about her so she could never have the excuse of misunderstanding.

Nothing can take away my enthusiasm at our relationship, Lynn…nothing

"Oh…Isaiah…I…well…hmm…that’s a big one…" Lynn stumbled over her incoherent and incomplete sentence and broke out in a bout of nervous giggles. For once, Wen Li- Lin, Lynn was lost for words. She always had something to blast about everything and now, she was speechless, stuttering and not that confident.

He took her soft, slender hand, feeling the tenderness that felt so fragile in his strong one. Squeezing it hard while maintaining control over the steering wheel with his other hand, he sucked in a deep breath.

"Li-Lin. Lynn…whatever you want to call yourself. I love you. Really love you. And…" He trained his eyes on the road, hearing her heavy breathing, figuring out that she was unprepared for the sudden assault on the status quo of their relationship. A status quo that Isaiah wanted to challenge for a very long time had she not kept insisting she was not ready for a commitment but among all the men she was dating, she was most devoted to him.

"I’m hoping we can have the talk soon…the one you promised me?"

He could not see her as he was trying to navigate a tight bend. But he projected himself in her shoes and could almost sense her trepidation at the word, "Commitment."

But Isaiah could not wait. He had been waiting for a year, 5 months and 3 days. All the time, he was the one hovered over his phone, waiting for her to call. Hoping that she would call when she said she would and even when she did not. All those time, he was the one wishing and praying she would not break their dates. Anyone would have told him to break off with her immediately- that she was bad news.

Isaiah saw beauty in her. Not only on her face, but inside her. He could not describe it- only that he was touched by it. The way she would tear when she thought no one was looking when she was reading the news- sincerely empathizing with the victims; the sufferings.

And the way she is. Isaiah would often prefer not to let his true opinions about some matters be shown, unless it had became an urgent need like this one. He was afraid he might not have the whole picture in his mind about a certain matter- that he would be prejudice and not do justice to an issue. And very simply, he was afraid he might be wrong.

Although now, Lynn was not saying the words he wished to hear.

"Hmm…Isaiah, this is too sudden. I need time. I promise…the talk…"

Isaiah let go of her hand. He had been vaguely hopeful yet he knew her well- too well. He had already somewhat foreseen the answer. She had not disappointed him- only crushed his foolish hope.

"Yah, I’m sorry too. I know we don’t want to talk about feelings and stuff. No strings attached- just harmless fun and dates. Right? I totally understand." He began calmly, almost in a friendly tone but ended sounding like a spurned lover.

And she caught his frustration and would be guilty. Now, she would placate him in the motherly tone of hers, which was the one thing he did not like about her.

"Isaiah…don’t be like that. Ok. We’ll have that talk alright? Let’s make it next Saturday. Fine with you?"

He smiled grimly in response and the couple were silent the rest of the way to the office.

***

Lynn was just recovering from the shock she had in the car. The audacity of Isaiah, to actually bring up a topic which he would know she was not ready for. She liked being with him. Lynn knew it was extremely difficult to find a sweet guy like Isaiah who actually knew what was love about. However, when she was with Isaiah, she could not help but feel something very important was missing. The something important which would push her towards commitment.

She tapped her feet. The ultra-blond man in front of her was taking far too long with the vending machine. Well, she knew it often cranked up on people, yet, it seemed like this time, the poor vending machine was not at fault. Unable to stand the wait anymore, she walked up to the guy and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey Mister! Need change? We’re all thirsty here."

He turned around and she blinked. He was extremely handsome, like a marble statuette. And pale. Not much taller than her at probably 6 feet, he did command a presence of sorts. Stark blue eyes gave her a once over before pulling out a dollar note.

"Yes. I do need change," as an afterthought, he added, even less audibly but still as stately, "If you don’t mind."

In her turmoil, no thanks to Isaiah, she could not help but be sarcastic- well- as least in her thoughts. The man was superficially gorgeous, more so than Isaiah. Nonetheless, despite the finely carved features, something about him unnerved her. She had not met anyone who could speak as soft and as robotic as he had accomplished.

"I don’t have change. But I have enough coins for two cups of coffee...if that’s what you want." She almost pushed past him, drop in the coins and the first cup of coffee materialized soon after. Retrieving it, she passed it to the man who had not moved an inch.

He actually took it without saying any thanks. She turned her attention back to machine and rolled her eyes.

"As if the world is not rude enough. You can try to be polite Mister." She grumbled loudly for him to hear.

"Are you looking for a ‘thank you’?" He had the nerve to ask her.

Holding on to her own coffee, she turned and cocked her head sideways. "I thought that’s just basic manners."

"I don’t want to insult you. I don’t think all you want is some gratitude out of helping people. The thankless jobs we take upon ourselves are usually the most satisfying." Again the voice was flat, steady and in that irritating monotone. Lynn was not liking this agent one bit.

"Cut the philosophical crap. I was looking for manners. Not gratitude! Man! You are a freak! It’s just coffee! And saying ‘thanks’ wouldn’t hurt!" She rant at him and suddenly felt like shoving him. But she stormed away instead and brushed past him rudely.

When he grabbed her hand, she was shocked and almost spilled her coffee. She had not heard him as he was very stealthy and quick.

"What’s your name and department?"

"I’m Lynn, from Technical Helpdesk. I am…" she wanted to tell him she was not available for someone like him but the moment he got the direct answer to his question, he let go of her hand and walked away.

Muttering something extremely rude under her breath, she made her way to her department on the fourth floor but not without first making a trip to the ladies to wash her face and wash away the blues.

When she returned to her cluttered desk, there was the exact amount of coins for the cup of coffee on the table and a curt ‘Thank You’ jotted down on a memo in straight; deliberate handwriting. Raising an eyebrow at her colleague sitting next to her, he shrugged and mumbled something about a blond-hair guy simply sauntering his way in and placing the coins on her desk.

And she smiled very quietly to herself.

***

Isaiah heard the armchair next to him groaned and his head looked up from their original position- nested in his folded arms on his desk. The morning had been tiring slow and uneventful. Though he was grateful for moments like these, he secretly wished that the Network would just impose a new policy that allowed agents to steer clear their offices when there were no cases and still receive their hefty salaries.

His head turned and he saw that Elijah had already settled down and was perusing through profile-files of the terrorists and cult organizations that the Network had run-ins with. The never-ending chase against evil ensured that Elijah would be kept very occupied for a while.

"Morning Bro…" Isaiah tried to sound laid-back even though seeing his brother brought the melancholy to inside of him. Elijah did not respond.

"Elijah?"

"Hmm…" Elijah mumbled, now using his pencil to mark down interesting points about whichever group he was studying. Isaiah sighed, not knowing what else to say. Elijah was not being encouraging either. Isaiah’s heart immediately happily added more weight to itself- as if it was trying to see how burdened it could be before it ripped.

"It gets a little tedious…but take your time with the files…you can bring them home if you want, just be careful…" He spoke softly, concerned about Elijah’s increasing fixation on the files, seemingly too drawn into the gristly details on the reports- moving from one page to the next in seemingly robotic mania.

Elijah kept silent. Isaiah shifted his attention away and the room never felt more claustrophobic- more empty.

His phone rang and Isaiah was deeply gratified for some distraction. Looking at the caller-ID, he saw that it was an internal transfer and the caller was Grey Man. He picked it up before the third ring.

"Yes Grey…"

"You and Elijah. In my office, now."

***

Elijah glanced around the private office that he had entered for the very first time. It was done up in a functional design- very organized and not cluttered at all. The furniture and decorations were minimal, probably because the officer hardly stayed in his office to want to make it a second-home. As usual, the overall theme was white. It looked like the outside, only that the work area was surrounded by walls. A small bonsai plant on one top of one of the shelves broke the striking and yet unexciting whiteness of the room.

He was seated on the other side of the work desk, next to Isaiah. His brother’s presence had not bothered him at all. Isaiah was just another partner to work with. The only thing that bothered him was that he had slipped last night and allowed himself to remember. A nagging thought had pounded at the back of his mind as Lijah kept screaming into his ears.

But he was gratified that he made Lijah stop before the sun made its usual entrance into the world again. And he never figured out what the nagging thought was because when Lijah stopped, the thought flew away as well.

"I hope the both of you are ready. Isaiah, is the holiday mood over?" Grey Man asked, his nose still in the file he was studying; walking to and fro the back of his desk.

Elijah watched Isaiah who had closed his eyes, an insuppressible whimsical smile on his lips.

And Isaiah’s eyes shot opened after a while, but the smile was still there.

"Yah…"

"Elijah?"

Elijah vacant eyes shifted back to Grey Man. He did not reply; there was no need to. Grey Man was just asking useless questions. If Elijah had said no, Grey would still have to assign him the case.

"Hmph. Alright Marble." Grey Man groused. He threw the pathetically thin file onto the table.

"Homicide. It’s the second one following the same pattern. We either have a copycat or a serial killing taking place. And we are called because it could be a cult."

"A girl?" Isaiah immediately suggested. Elijah knew then that Isaiah had been watched the news in the morning- probably a habit. A same one he had.

"Yes. So the news had already reported. Anyway, both killings had taken place in Eaeshore, slightly off Bayport. All the details are in this file…Isaiah, you take care of it. Both of you are brothers. From what I have seen, brothers’ teams seemed to crack cases pretty easily."

Isaiah’s eyes had rounded at the mention of Bayport while Elijah simply took the file and perused it. Elijah was intrigued by Grey Man’s assumption that brothers would work well together. He seemed to have neglected the fact that many brothers did not even get along well, maybe did not even love each other.

Many brothers are only related by blood and it was not as thick as bond as some liked to think. Blood was nothing but cells, plasma and water. The romantic thought about blood brothers was falsehood to Elijah.

But he said nothing, just gazed at Grey Man with a slight sneer that he could not conceal for once. He did not want to contain it either. It was apt for Grey Man to receive the scorn for the naive generalization that he had so gullibly made.

The irk on Grey Man’s face was apparent and Elijah knew it was time for him to exit.

Not that he minded of course.