As minutes became hours, Austin and I hatched a plan to come up with a plot, characters, and a scenery for their film. Austin suggests that we should do a comedy movie, while I wanted to make an action film.

"Action?" Austin says with an unsure look. "Do you think we have the money to make an action movie?"

My face scrunched, thinking about the money in my bank account; because I work in a nursing home for six years, I have $690.

Though it covers my clothes, apartment bills, and shopping, it wasn't enough for special effects, lights, and modifications to my camera. And as for Austin, his moms gives him a thirty dollar allowance.

"Well, I think we can get by with $690," Jack shrugged. "What about you?"

Austin shrugs his shoulders. "I have $125 dollars in my piggy bank."

"Okay," I calculated the results. "So, we have $815."

Austin nodded in response. "That's a ton of cash, but I doubt we'll do the special effects."

"Also, we need costumes, makeup, and some good actors, but they all cost a lot of money; I don't think a thousand dollars is enough."

I moaned, "Shit, you're right: well, an action movie is out of the list."

"How about a comedy?" Austin suggested.

I frowned, shaking my head.

"Absolutely not," I snorted.

"Come on, it'll be fun." he grinned. "Everyone loves jokes."

I shake my head again sadly. "None of us are good comedians, Austin. Besides, Scott insisted on a drama film."

"But drama can have some comedy." insisted Austin. "Like that movie, 22 Jump Street."

I look at him in disbelief. "I am pretty sure that's a comedy film."

"Ugh," Austin sighed. "Well, you know what I mean."

I sighed, "it's a great idea, though, but do we have a title? Plot? Climax?"

"How about, 'My Last Breath' ?"

I shake my head again. "We have used that title before, remember?"

Austin threw himself on the bed and moaned, staring at the white ceiling above him.

"You're right," he mumbled. "We did use that title."

My Last Breath is a film which Austin and I created in third grade; it was about a science dystopia era, where a virus broke out-due to a failed science experiment-and make people turn into flesh-eating zombies.

A rural family of three are the only ones who survived the epidemic, however, they have difficulty surviving little food and resources.

With the help of my brother Jacob and his classmates, I had them focus on the abandoned parts of New York: alleys, broken warehouses, apartments, we even found a farmhouse in the middle of the woods and decide to use it as a background.

Some of Jacob's friends were good in face painting and design, so I allowed them to do their work while I rehearsed the lines with Austin and Mr. Keswick.

With shared ideas and minor problems, the short film became a huge success, receiving awards for Best Acting, Best Costume Choice, and Best Director.

But even though we received positive criticism for our film, I doubt that the sequel would be greater than the first movie. Let alone be on the cover of the New York Times.

"Why don't we do a sequel?" Austin suggested. "It's a remarkable short film."

"True," I agreed. "but Mr. Keswick is in Europe with his senior class, and Jacob is doing a college course on cinema photography."

"Let's discuss it tomorrow, I say, yawning. "Your moms will have a meltdown if you didn't return."

Austin laughed, as he grabs his shoes. Putting them on, he ties his black shoelaces and hopped out of bed.

"Yeah, they get pretty worrisome whenever I am not in the house," he says admittingly, stretching his arms.

"They're total lunatics."

I gave him an unsure look; I didn't understand what he meant by that: his moms are pretty cool, nice, good cooks, and they never gave Austin the third degree whenever he comes home from school.

But then again, Kristy and Olivia are his family. Not mine.

As for my dad, I did love him dearly, it's just we never had a normal father-and-daughter relationship: we disagree on many things, like music, television channels, and takeout food.

Meanwhile, my mother, Isadora Cassidy, left her husband and kids for a prescription bottle of drugs. I know, sad right? Luckily, I stopped caring about her when I was ten.

It was one of the reasons why I didn't like drugs, children, or the idea of having them run around the house like hissing cockroaches.

After Austin left the apartment, Joseph came to my room again, but this time, he came with a house phone.

"Hey, Jacqueline," he says, handing me the phone. "Your brother wants to talk to you."

Jacob? I wondered as I come up to my father. It's rare to have him call me with courses coming up, but in spite of the news, I decided to talk to him.

After taking the phone from her father's hands, I shut the door in front of him, plop on my bed, and answer it.

"Hey, Jake." I greeted.

"Hey, Tomato." Jacob greeted back.

I blushed, cringing at my nickname he had given to me when I was an infant.

"Will you stop calling me that?" I scoffed. "I'm sixteen."

"And I am a twenty-year-old man, but I have to deal with it."

"Moron," I mumbled. "So, how's film school?"

"Amazing, I just completed a course on directing."

I grinned, "that's cool."

"How's Austin?"

"Creative, as usual. At school, he signs me and himself up for a film competition."

"The one with Scott Davis?" Jacob guessed. "Isn't he like a Stephen King kind of guy?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "but he wants kids to come up with a film in about a week or something, but so far, Austin and I haven't gotten started on it."

"What?" Jacob says in shock. "How come?"

"My dad thinks I am spending too much time with Austin," I answer bitterly. "So, he is making me focus on my studies, and hang out with girls my age."

Jacob whistled, "Damn, I see Dad hasn't changed a bit since I left."

'"You have no idea," I laughed.

The next thing I knew, we're started talking about their classes, what teacher we hated the most, and relationships.

"How are you and Clarice?" I ask.

Clarice is Jacob's girlfriend, who attends all of his classes. Even though I didn't know exactly how they met, Clarice seems to be a nice person.

At least that's what my brother thinks. 

So far, they have visited France twice, Italy once, and on Christmas vacation, they've been to London.

Sometimes I wish I can join the couple, see the sights, take pictures, hook up with Italian guys, but I am sure Joseph wouldn't approve.

"We're doing fine," he says, possibly shrugging. "We just came back from Rome for our two-year anniversary."

"Aww," I crooned. "That's adorable!"

Jacob chuckled, "thanks, I'll tell Clarice that."

Suddenly, his voice grew serious. "You're not hooking up with Austin, right?"

I stare at the phone in confusion. "Why the fuck would you say that?"

Jacob sighed, "because Dad thinks you and Austin are 'doing the deed'."

"Doing the deed?" I scoffed. "Who the fuck says that?"

"Dad," he answered.

"You of all people should know that I am not in love with Austin."

"I know," Jacob grunted. "Dad just wants me to get that through your head."

A part of me wanted to hang up the phone and confront Joseph, but the other wanted me to talk to my brother who I haven't talked to two years since he graduated high school.

Lying on the bed, I looked at my dreary ceiling and asked Jake if he misses me.

"Yeah, I do," Jacob says quietly.

"Same here," I beamed. "my life is a complete mess without you."

"Mine too," he replied. "Listen, I have a seminar next period so I'll call you later."

"Okay," I say. "I love you, Big Brother."

"Love you too, Tomato."

As soon as I hang up the phone, it rang again, but this time Austin called me.

"Hey, Austin." I yawned. "How-"

"Did you see the news?" Austin shrieked.

News? I thought, puzzled. What the hell is he talking about?

Arousing from my bed, I ask, "What's going on?"

"Remember Elle Cole's cancer?" Austin asked.

I frowned, thinking back to the time when Elle Jones, an award-winning Australian director, battling liver cancer seven months ago.

"Yeah," I nodded unsurely. "Why, what's wrong?"

Taking a deep breath, Austin reluctantly says, "Elle Jones is dead."

"What?" I murmured. "She can't be dead-how is she dead?"

"The liver cancer killed her."

Thoughts ran inside my head, forming a picture of my idol dying in her hospital bed: Her hair was gray, her body withered, and her lips sagged, unable to smile one last time.

When I asked Austin what happened, he said that he wasn't sure.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" I asked.

"Jack-"

"Please?" I begged.

Austin tries to refuse my pleas, but I kept saying 'please' and promises like, doing his homework for a week, quit smoking, and be a little nicer to Joseph.

Sighing, Austin gave himself in. I can hear his exhaustion buzzing through my ears like angry bees as he decides to listen to my pleas.

"Okay! Okay!" he cried in anguish. "What do you want to know?"