“I wonder where you go every night,” Parker ponders out loud. “A whorehouse?” He smirks as I give off a loud sigh, finally having enough of his speculations. “How much did you pay Little Red Riding Hood to suck your dick, I wonder?”
“I went to a bar.” I offer the smallest fact possible to hopefully make him shut up, but of course, I should’ve known better. He latches on to any information I give him, desperately scrambling for more. “Nothing special. Same as every night.”
“And not once did you offer to take me with you,” he says, glaring at me.
It’s true. I don’t take Parker out when I leave the house. Why would I? He’d just cramp my goddamn style. And a part of me still believes I can protect him from the bullshit I have to do every day. I still remember the promise I made to our father years ago—I’d watch over Parker no matter what. Despite the minute difference between when we entered the world, I’m the older one. The responsible one. I’m supposed to take care of the kid.
“What do you order at a bar?” Parker wonders out loud, flicking a stray cereal flake at my head. One of these days, I swear. “Trashy redheads!” he shouts at the top of his lungs when I refuse to provide an answer, and I slam my fist on the table.
“Can you please?” I grunt at him, feeling defeated and deflated at the same time. “I’m tired, my head’s fucking throbbing, and I really cannot deal with you right now. I’m late to work as it is.”
“An hour and thirty minutes,” Parker cheerfully reminds me, and at that moment, I want to fucking punch him in his overly cheery, handsome face that mirrors mine.
Because I’m the only one of us with a real job.
Sure, Parker gets some money, but it’s not a regular paycheck like mine. He paints, so some months he’ll sell a lot while he doesn’t have a dollar to his name during others.
So, it’s on my shoulders to not only pay for myself but also most of Parker, who is finally in school learning to do something he loves.
And it shouldn’t have been like this. We should be taken care of, yet we got nothing.
He backs off, seeing he’s overstepped the line, and we sit awkwardly for a few minutes, not saying anything at all.
“What are you going to do today? Go to class?” I ask Parker when I finish off my breakfast, pushing the empty plate away.
“No class today, will get some other stuff done,” he responds cheerfully, but I can tell it’s fake. I know him too well. I know when he’s hurting, and since we’re both going through the same stuff right now, I know exactly how he feels.
Cheated.
Wronged.
Angry.
I give a brief nod and get up to start getting ready. No one will give me shit for being late, but I’m still not thrilled about it. I get paid by the hour as a programmer so being late means less money on my paycheck.
“I’ll see you this evening,” I say twenty minutes later after I’m showered and ready to head to work.
He’s sitting on the sofa in front of the TV, watching some sitcom. He just nods.
And because I’m the big brother—if only by a minute—I give him some money to order takeout in case I’m home late again. We part on good terms, and even though I’m already regretting shelling out for pad thai, a smile remains on my face. We need a little treat now and then. Otherwise, we’ll both go fucking crazy.
But still, as I take the stairs to the first floor, I want a better life for us. We aren’t used to this, and we’re struggling. No matter what it takes, I’m going to pull us out of this mess.
I want justice.
My day passes as the days always do—at the office. My job is not something I love, but at least I’m good at it, and it makes some money. Not nearly enough, though.
Lately, I’ve been too lost in the dark parts of my mind. My brother manages to keep me upbeat most of the time, though I suspect sometimes he feels just as lost as I am right now.
The dark voice in my head is only growing louder and meaner as time goes on, reminding me that I’ll never fix our lives. Things will never go back to the