Intertwined - Tangled series (Overprotective famous brothers)

Nobody messes with her

Salman

After I made sure my baby sister had her dinner and her share of fatty, carb filled, unhealthy dessert, I tucked her into bed. I sat there as she hummed while strumming on Destellar, her beloved guitar. She sang one of the songs she wrote and composed herself last year in Dubai, when she was under attack of negative limelight.

“Your voice is magical.” I sighed, closing my eyes and listened to her sing my favorite song. I hummed along but remained in the background, I could never hit the right notes.

Within an hour, she was asleep next to her guitar. I got up and fetched her covers. Tucking her hair behind her ears, I flipped the lights off and went out of her room.

“Mike Tyson?” I called out, and both of them groaned. Pixie had invented this Mike Tyson thing, and now everyone referred to them as Mike Tyson like they were twins. I sat down with them in the office, and started off directly so they could go home.

“What’s the amount of hate she’s been getting?” I asked, and they looked down as shame seeped into their eyes. Mike had been there with Lizzie since she was ten and Tyson joined a year and half before, but both of them were fiercely protective of her. This protectiveness was one of the reasons I requested Sean- my and the family’s security head- to always have them two with Lee.

“Enormous. It’s just getting worse. They hate her for being your sister, they hate her because she doesn’t deserve your love. They hate her for the world’s win, they hate her for her magazine cover, there is hate for all fucking reasons.” Tyson spat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Both of them kept a tab on these things, all the hate and threats. As security in-charge, it was their duty to know what the circumstances were like.

“And what about the love part of it?” I asked, unwilling to give up hope.

“It’s there. Fans are growing, but the haters just…they get hurtful. They are sending death threats, telling her they’d gang rape her and slit her throat in front of the world. It’s…” Mike went out of words, and so did I. Nobody behaved with my sister like that, even if most of them called themselves my “diehard fans.”

This is ridiculous. And it had to stop.

“Call Sohail and Arbaaz.” I reclined back into the chair. Both of them hesitated, and I raised a brow.

“Arbaaz is at his house and Sohail is in a party.” Mike uttered, and I took a long breath before calling both of them on conference call.

“Get your asses home, it’s crisis.”

The next few hours went by quick. Arbaaz and Sohail were both determined to end this hate too, and we were discussing all the possible ways we could do so.

“That is it then. We’ll get to work tomorrow morning.” Sohail sighed, still pretty high from the party. He just had to get wasted every single night and have a hangover every single morning. Arbaaz yawned, nodding.

“You guys go on, I’ll start now.” I opened the Macbook and started working on the idea we had proposed. All the time in the editing room had to do some good. Sohail just sat there dumbfounded, staring at me like I had lost my mind working on something at 2 am in the morning.

“We’re talking about Pixie here, I can’t sleep without getting this done.” I replied without looking up from the screen. I found all the video clips we had of her, from when she was five years old till as old as three weeks ago.

“Man, she’s fine.” Sohail sighed.

“She’s not fucking fine!” I snapped, throwing a paper weight across the office, the glass shattering into pieces. That was my sister right now, broken and cracked.