The Tour. | +18 | BWWM

𝄞 07 | A Brother - Part 1

It was the fifth message I sent to my brother. The text back and forth pinging away and each ping was an exclamation point to his worry. I smile at it because in my head I can see him at the firehouse waiting for his break to come to pick me up. Him pacing the place, burning down a hole with the TV on in the background because they never turn it off. I know he's proud of me. He said it in his opening text, but my brother Maurice is more like my dad than my brother sometimes. It's a moment like this that I wish he was more like my brother. Taking an Uber to the arena isn't a big deal, and I can wait. My brother took care of me after my mother died. My brother didn't go to a big-time college on a football scholarship, everyone thought. Instead, he went to a smaller school locally and became a full-time firefighter. It was like after my mother died; he went from young man to forty-year-old. That worry is something that he and his best friend Noah have in common. Noah is my brother's best friend and also happens to be Zoey's older brother. But he handled the loss of his father differently than we handle the loss of our mother. Zoey's dad's death was a fast heart attack. He was an older guy and he and his wife had kids extremely late in life. Whereas for us, my brother and I dealt with my mother's death a brick at a time. The house of worry was built slowly and made to last. They both hurt, but in different ways.

I turned on Facetime on my phone because I knew he needed to see if I was alright. He wasn't against me trying out for The Tour. but he wasn't for it either. For years we made covers on YouTube together with Zoey's older brother Noah. The #forNoah channel grew to a decent viewership. Following the growth of the YouTube channel, Zoey and I create our own channels. But I think that for my brother, this is more of a distraction from getting done with college. He's probably right. Maurice finally stops the little typing icon in text and just picks up the Facetime. It's like I thought. He was at the firehouse pacing and the TV was on in the background. I smile at him, my big brother who still looks like the muscle-bound footballer even in his almost 30s. His warm brown eyes are lined with worry, but it's good to see him. Maurice's hours at the firehouse are weird. During fire season, he drops off the planet. Some people would call one of the most important people in their lives a rock, but for me, he's a warm, tall chestnut tree. That warm chestnut complexion is just like our mothers.

"You're spacing out, B," Maurice said over Facetime. My brother's half-smile was a nice greeting, and the worry slid from his face.

"I made it!" The squeal was only a tiny bit. Heads turned in the middle of the lobby from the production crew. I keep repeating it but it always sounds new.

"Mom and Grandma would be proud." Warmth spread from his words. Whatever well-meaning shade I thought he might say was pushed aside. A hard burn in my chest knotted. I felt the truth of the words but...

"Yes, they would. I can almost hear Nana cackle the moment I got picked." He chuckled at the joke, but I was seconds from breaking down. We ended the call with pickup times and him warning me again not to stay alone in the arena parking lot waiting for him. I wasn't going to do it, honest, but he worries.

A/n: This is more than one part. IT's a bunch of parts. I'm just gonna keep posting until all the parts are done. The normal Friday post is coming as well.  I need to go back through and reply to everyone's comments. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the support. Your time and care about this book is so cool :).  I have small rewrite in mind because of the comments so keep them coming. If it's major I'll make note of it here.  See you for the next part of the show.