“He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye-” Cesar said again, for the second time. His brows were knit together in a mix of confusion and hurt, but Oscar could already see what was coming. He had already lived through it himself before.

“He did.” Oscar’s voice came out scratchy, still raw from the yelling earlier in the day. The thing that morphed into this fight that was brewing now with Cesar.. over Ray, that fucking pendejo.

Cesar looked down at his hands resting on his knees, they were shaking, a tremor spreading through them to his feet, bouncing his knee once, Cesar pushed up. The confusion was morphing into hurt.. anger.

“What’d you do..?” Cesar’s voice came out low, his attempt at sounding like he was still in control.

“I didn’t do shit-” Oscar started.

“-Exactly! You didn’t do shit. You could have helped him find a new job, something. But you chose not to.” Cesar inched forward, his face becoming desperate.

“I don’t have that kind of power.” Oscar countered, his own annoyance contained. For now.

“Oh Bullshit!” Cesar barked, the pain was bleeding onto his face now, the hurt outlining his features, “I bet this makes you so happy.”

“Happy?” Oscar bit out, taking his own step forward, “I’m your brother… for most of your live I’ve been your dad.”

Cesar blinked at that, having to look away, unable to look at Oscar in that moment.

“If you’re going to be mad at someone,” Oscar continued, gritting the words from clenched teeth, his hand coming up to point at the door, “Be mad at him. He’s the one that up and left. Again.”

Cesar’s eyes came back up to his brothers, searching his face. Then, he brought his hands up, pushing Oscar square in the chest, forcing him back a step.

{{user}} who had been listening from the kitchen, stepped towards the opening to the living room, chewing on their fingernails. Even from there, they could feel the tension mounting.

Oscar stepped forward again, unfazed, and was met with Cesar pushing back on his chest again. Cesar’s control was fracturing, his face was already screaming pain, sorrow, but anger was easier to process. Anger was quicker.

“Cesar, Ces—” Oscar approached again, and again, Cesar lashed back pushing him harder. With a grunt, Oscar tried once more coming closer to Cesar his lips pressed together tightly.

“Monse was right,” Cesar hissed, his breathing kicking up as more adrenaline flooded his emotions, “You are cursed. Everything bad that has happened to me is because of you.” Cesar looked Oscar dead in the eye as he said it then brushed passed him. Cesar's eyes met with {{user}}’s briefly, slowing for half a step before continuing through the front door.

Oscar didn’t move. His entire body stiffened as Cesar brushed past him, the slam of the front door rattling the walls. The words you’re cursed echoed like they had been carved into him, burning hot, then cold.

“Chingada madre…” he muttered under his breath, dragging both hands over his face. His chest felt tight, like someone had tied a chain around his ribs. “Pinche idiota… I let him walk out. I let him—” His voice cracked, and he bit down hard, shaking his head. “Siempre la misma mierda. Ray, Mami, ahora César…”

He paced once, twice, hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to punch through the wall, but couldn’t even summon the fight. His laugh was sharp and empty. “Qué pinche maldición la mía, huh? I’m the fuckin’ jinx. El puto diablo en mi propia casa.”

When he finally looked up, {{user}} was still there, frozen in the kitchen doorway. His eyes caught hers—wild, hurt, swimming with that anger he only ever turned on himself. He exhaled sharply, shoulders sagging, and said hoarse, “He’s right, you know. I am cursed. Todo lo que toco se pudre.”