Title: Double Trouble

Rating: T

Synopsis: Two boys from two very different places, living very different lives. Meet Cheren Blake, the rich fun-loving kid from Beverly Hills in Los Angeles, California, and Branden Wall, the serious modern-day pauper living in New Jersey next to Walmart's. With lives so different, no one would ever think that these two would ever meet.

But then again, the trouble was just to happen yet...

Genre: Family/Humor/Romance

Beginning Notes: Well, this is my first story in the Fiction press world. This one has been in my mind for some time now and well, I wanted to release it. Read and tell me what you think!

Chapter 1:

The Disagreement: "Why Can't I See Mom?!"

"Are we going to see Mom?"

Charlie Blake gritted his teeth at the question. He gripped the wheel tightly with both hands. With a smile glued to his face, he replied saying, "No, Buddy. Yes, we're going to England where Mommy was born but no, we're not seeing her in any sense."

A dry, hard cough and a wheeze were heard from the backseat. "Well, can I see her? You don't have to if you don't want to but I do. Besides, Jodi is staying in the hotel, too and she'd be willing to get away from the boring party."

He sighed and kept his eyes on the road. God, why does he have to be this curious about that woman?! he thought. "She's busy with an excavation somewhere that's not known by us or by anyone in particular." God, was this kid getting on his nerves or what?

The coughing and wheezing continued. "Yeah, and I believe that ponies have wings."

"Cheren!" a female voice spoke sharply. The owner of the voice was a brunette woman in her mid-thirties. She had green eyes and a petite figure. She was wearing a black designer winter dress from Yves Saint-Lauren. She was sitting right beside Charlie in the front seat.

"Sorry, Aunt Rachel," the boy in the back seat said in a mock-serious tone. He smirked and went back to his Nintedo DS light. "I'm only curious to see Mom, that's all. But it can't be helped if Dad gets affected about seeing his ex."

"Well, curiosity kills the cat, Cheren," Charlie responded drily and turned on one corner. "And about that woman? She left you when you were only a baby. Aside from that—"

"She left for China, specifically Shanghai—" Cheren continued as he kept on killing all the zombies filling the screen.

"—And she never came back ever again. Period," both father and son concluded and sighed.

Rachel couldn't help but laugh at the scene. She looked at the father and son duo. If there was such thing as a perfect carbon copy, Cheren and Charlie would've almost been the perfect examples. From how they talked to how they dress, Charlie passed down almost everything he had to his own son as Cheren grew up under her care.

She looked at her thirteen-year-old nephew. Cheren had Charlie's messy ash-black hair. He also had Charlie's skin tone and the love for Toblerone and video games. Not only that, his nose was Charlie's shape, his eyes were also after Charlie's shape, the shape of his face belonged to Charlie and he acted like his father as well! They could even have an asthma contest and beat Charlie in having the most tissues when they have colds or who spits his phlegm the farthest (Yuck.)!

The only difference: Unlike his father, he had his mother's ocean blue eyes and her smile.

Who said that Science hasn't perfected cloning? If only they had met Charlie and Cheren!

Sure, she wasn't his mother but she knew both of them like the back of her hand. After all, being a Mother-Slash-Sister-Slash-Guardian to two guys in a single household meant reading them like an open book to prevent any damages.

"You know what, Cheren? Let's just drop this topic, okay?" Charlie said from the driver's seat. "I'm almost getting full of you and you don't want to make me full now, would you?"

Cheren glared from the backseat. "What's wrong with seeing my own mom? You don't have to if you don't want to."

Charlie sighed. "Even if I tell you the reason why I don't want you near that woman, you won't listen to me," he shot back. "That's why."

"And I'm sure that that's the biggest lie that you had ever told me yet aside from the fact that you were smooching with the boob-y secretary that just came in last week," Cheren sneered as he switched the tape to Pokémon Black and White.

"Hey, that is not true!" his father retorted.

"Her boobs are so big, you'd need a bulldozer just to get through her when you pass by her," Cheren stated nonchalantly. "If that's not huge, then, I wouldn't know what is."

"Cheren, enough," Rachel told him sternly but he didn't seem to listen this time.

"Why do you think that I had actually kissed my secretary?" his father asked.

"Same answer as to why I don't have a mother right now," Cheren replied. "Being single must be really awesome, huh?"

His father groaned. "Alright, let's get outright personal. Why do you seem to hate me?!"

"That's because you don't even give me the chance to get to know my own mom yet you have the nerve to bring home three chicks every time you say you're on 'holiday'!"

"What's there to know about a woman who left you for thirteen years and didn't even feel a shred of regret after what she had done?!"

"Oh, I don't know, everything, Dad! The reason why she left, the reason why she didn't take me with her, what you did to her that made her leave—"

"Oh, I didn't do anything about that, Young Man! Your mother made that damn decision all by herself!"

"But she wouldn't have made it if she wanted to stay with you!"

"Her decision, her fault, no responsibility from moi."

"As if you'd ever used the word responsibility. You're hardly even around!"

"Cheren Blake, stop this behaviour on the count to ten!" Charlie ordered. "One, two, three—"

Cheren crossed his arms. "Stop the car. NOW!" he ordered.

"You can't tell me to do that!" his father retorted. "I'm your father and you will listen to me!"

Cheren kept on trying to open his car door. "I'd rather walk to China then to go to England with an annoying father like you!" he said angrily.

"You don't mean that," his father said.

"Yes, I do! I wish that you weren't my dad!" Cheren angrily screamed. "I wish that I wasn't Cheren Blake! This life sucks! Not only that, but my dad's also a whore, dammit!"

The car screeched to a stop. Rachel couldn't help but feel bad. Charlie got out of the car and started breathing in the cold air outside. Cheren, on the other hand, slumped in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. He was looking at the other part of the road where his father wasn't standing. He kept on mumbling in his seat as he kept on coughing and wheezing.

It was a habit that he and Charlie had whenever they grew angry or anxious. Their asthma seemed to worsen, then start to wheeze like cats and cough like seals and they mumble as well.

Rachel immediately pulled out an inhaler from her purse and gave it to Cheren. He shakily took it from her and stuck it into his mouth. He took three puffs and gave it back to his aunt. He wiped his mouth using his jacket's sleeve and went back to mumbling.

Then, they heard the driver's seat's car door open. Charlie got in and closed it with a bang. He stared into space for a while. Then, he took a deep breath and looked at Cheren.

"I won't let you go around walking to China on your own," he said calmly. "But telling me those things will definitely bring you one of the biggest punishments you would ever receive this year."

He leaned into the back seat and took the Nintedo DS light away from Cheren. "You're grounded. No consoles, no video games, no TV and no internet access. There will be no Facebook-ing either and as well as for other social networking sites. All of your plans will be cancelled and you won't see Jodi or talk to her for two weeks."

He turned to Cheren straight in the eye. "Am I understood?"

Cheren said nothing in reply. Instead, he stared at the snowy wonderland right outside the car window. Charlie took the silence in and took it as a yes. He started the car and once again, they were on their way.

Rachel stared at the two. Yes, they may look almost similar but then again, looking the same doesn't mean that you would agree with each other most of the time.

Then, she looked out at the still life outside the window. The snowflakes were falling slowly from the sky.

"Mom, you wouldn't believe what I'm about to tell you!"

A boy of thirteen in worn out jeans and a green hand-me-down shirt came rushing through the door of a small house. The walls of the house shone in a warm beige color and gave off the feeling of warmth in the middle of December. The furniture was pretty simple and toys were scattered everywhere.

He ran into the kitchen and dumped his bag on a nearby chair. A woman in her late thirties greeted him. Her long wavy blonde hair was tied back by a green scrunchy. She wore a simple shirt and jeans and an apron.

"Really, Sweetie, what am I supposed to know?" she asked him as she walked over to the boy and kissed him on the head.

He smiled at her and took out an envelope. "Take a look at this," he told her, his blue eyes shining with excitement.

She took it and opened the envelope. A smile grew on her face when she finished reading the contents. "Oh my God, Brandon!" she cried and hugged him tightly. "Baby, I'm so proud of you!"

"Straight As this quarter, Mom! Just like I promised," he mumbled inside the hug that he was wrapped in. His mother squealed and laughed in response. She hugged him tighter and kissed him on the forehead.

"That's the best surprise ever!" she cried. "Anything else you'd want me know?"

"Well, I guess you could say that," he said. He broke away from her hug. He went to his bag and started looking into it. "This is probably gonna shock you more than that one."

He gave her another envelope. She eagerly took it from his hands and spilled the contents into her hand. She opened the folded paper in her hands. Again, she jumped out of shock when she finished reading the paper.

"Oh my—Oh God! Is—Is it—" she stammered.

He grinned. "Yeah, it's true. It's true," Branden happily agreed. "Mom—"

"You got accepted to The Baccalaureate School for Global Education?!" she screamed. "Honey, I-I can't believe this!"

"Well, you'd better believe it," Branden said. "They said they were pretty impressed with my grades and that they wanted to pay for my scholarship!"

"Oh!" she squealed. Then, she ran outside through the back door. "Manny! Manny! Manny, you gotta see what Branden brought home today!"

"Grace, can't it wait? I might drop the entire car on me if you keep on talking your mouth off!"

But Manny, you wouldn't believe what Branden just did! He…."

Branden smiled as his mother ran out to the garage and kept on screaming like a banshee. Typical Mom. What could he expect? Anything good about education and she's all excited.

He looked at a framed photo that was standing right near the stairs. It was a picture of him and his dad before he died.

Branden felt his hair and sighed. How he wished he looked like his mom or dad! He wished for blonde or deep brown hair. He wished for green or brown eyes. If he could get any of those, (aside from entering senior high in BSGE and entering college in the University of California-Berkley) he'd be the happiest kid alive!

But then again, reality differed.

He turned to a nearby mirror. Staring at his reflection, he sighed deeply. He saw the ocean blue eyes and messy ash black hair that greeted him every single morning. He sighed once again.

Nothing. He looked nothing like his family at all. Mom was a brown-eyed blonde. Dad was a green-eyed brunette. Even his brother Christopher—Oh, don't even start it!

Branden always thought that he was adopted. But Mom always seemed to tell him otherwise. Maybe he was just like Grandpa Jim was what she always told him. After all, he was different from his family, too.

"So, what am I missing?"

A little boy of seven with blonde hair and green eyes was standing on the second floor of the house. He was in blue over-alls and a yellow Spongebob shirt, in his hands was a Lego airplane. He jumped down the stairs, three at a time and landed on the ground floor with a loud bang.

Branden rolled his eyes. "Nothing, Squirt," he replied.

"Aww, c'mon, Brandy!" the little boy whined. "You know you can tell me anything!"

He went into the kitchen and took his bag. Then, he went upstairs. The little boy kept tailing him as he went.

"C'mon, Brandy—"

"Christopher, leave me alone," Branden told him. "The last time I told you something, you ruined my chances of getting something that I actually needed. And stop calling me Brandy already!"

"Like what, Brandy?" the little boy asked him.

"Remember Oxford Academy?" Branden asked. The little Christopher shook his head. Branden sighed and groaned. "Chris, don't act as if you're innocent. The reason why I'm currently stuck here in Elmwood is because you placed peanut butter in Mr. Alvin's lunch since it was brown and it looked like…something that was brown."

"His wife said he liked peanut butter!" Chris retorted. "That's why I put some in that weird looking dish!"

"Mr. Alvin doesn't HAVE a wife," he responded. "He's gay. Like gay people have any wives to love except for the ones involved in politics since they need to get people off their backs."

"Explain gay, Brandy," Chris told him.

"As if you'd ever listen to any explanation that I give you," Branden snorted. "Now, get out of my room." Chris started to whine but Branden easily dragged him out of his room.

"C'mon, Brandy! It's as if you're gonna go to some other faraway place like the last time!" Chris whined. "Besides, Mom doesn't even have money to pay for plane tickets anymore!"

Branden smirked. "Think that will stop me, Squirt?" he sneered and took out a manila envelope. He waved it right in front of his little brother's face. "I already reserved tickets going to New York by plane. And aside from that, I saved enough of money from my part-time jobs for bus fares, miscellaneous reasons, and all."

He put his face closer to Chris's. "And this time, you're not coming."

Chris's face twisted in annoyance and anger. He stuck a tongue out at him and ran into his own room.

"I'm gonna make Mom take me with you! You'll see!" he cried, slammed his door loudly and locked it tight.

Branden chuckled to himself. Oh, how sweet revenge is. Same with success. And cookies, too.

His stomach growled. Then, he went downstairs to get himself some of his mom's chocolate chip cookies.