THE TYCOONS FIXATION

Ava's POV

The alarm blares in my ear, a sound that's almost too loud for this time of the morning. I reach over, slamming my hand down on it, but it's already too late. I am awake now, forced to face another day, another round of routine, the same endless cycle.

I push myself up from the bed, the old mattress creaking under my weight. My apartment is small, too small but it's mine, and that's something. It smells like coffee and stale air. It doesn't help that I haven't gotten a full night's sleep in weeks.

The sound of my feet hitting the cold floor feels like a reminder. Another morning. Another set of responsibilities I can't escape from. My eyes flick to the clock on the wall, 6:45 AM, and just enough time to make my brother Tyler's breakfast before heading out.

I head to the kitchen, the space barely big enough for the coffee maker and the counter where I usually eat. Tyler's bedroom door is slightly cracked, and I don't knock. He doesn't like that. I know better by now. I step inside, my eyes adjusting to the dim light.

Tyler's still asleep, tangled in the sheets, his face turned toward the wall. I stand there for a moment, just watching him. He's twenty-three, but sometimes he looks younger than he is. The addiction has taken so much from him, and I can't stop it. I never could. It's like this invisible hand that tightens around his throat every time he's close to breaking free. The rehab center we put him in hasn't been enough. Not yet.

I move quietly, making sure not to disturb him. The last thing he needs is a reminder of what he's fighting against. He needs rest, and I need to get out of here before he wakes up in a mood that'll ruin the rest of the day.

The kitchen smells of coffee before I even start brewing. I'm so used to it, it's like the place is infused with the scent now. I make his breakfast, just scrambled eggs and toast, nothing fancy. He likes it simple. I don't have the energy to make anything more complicated.

I pull out my phone and check the time 7:00 AM. I have thirty minutes before I need to leave for work. I pour a cup of coffee for myself, but I'm not really drinking it. I'm just holding it, letting the heat from the mug warm my hands.

The quiet of the apartment is broken only by the sound of my brother moving in his room. He groans, and then there's silence again. I sigh and set the cup down on the counter. It's going to be a long day. It always is.

After a few minutes, I hear the door to his room creak open. Tyler stumbles into the kitchen, looking disheveled. His hair is a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, but there's a certain alertness there now. He's awake. For better or worse.

"Morning," I say, trying to keep the tone light.

He nods but doesn't say much. He grabs the plate of eggs and toast I've made for him, then looks at me with that distant, blank expression I know too well. His eyes aren't focused, not yet.

"Did you sleep okay?" I ask, hoping to spark some kind of conversation.

He shrugs, taking a bite of the eggs without answering. His lack of response sends a wave of frustration through me, but I hold it back. I don't want to fight. Not now, not today.

"You need to take your meds," I remind him, my voice a little firmer than I intend it to be.

Tyler winces. He's been ignoring his prescription for the last few days. I don't know why it bothers me so much. Maybe because I'm exhausted from constantly being the one to remind him. Maybe because it feels like I'm the only one trying.