Dutch Gin

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*In the comic and books, Charlie and Tori Spring have a younger brother named Oliver. There's a big age gap between Charlie and Oliver so, for the purposes of this story, I am shrinking that gap so Oliver is now 20 years old*


Charlie's younger brother, Oliver was spending the year studying in Amsterdam. He rented a house with some friends to save money. Most of those friends were visiting home for the summer, so Oliver offered his place to the small group.

They'd played the gig they signed a contract to do early that night. Having slept indoors in a bed for the first time in a week was a relief, refreshing every member of the band and allowing them to put on a great show for a handful of elderly bar patrons. Afterwards, the now group of five headed to a popular night club to dance and indulge in some alcoholic beverages.

It didn't take long standing in the crowd of sweaty strangers for Charlie to feel the need to separate himself and seek out a solitary space to decompress. He may have also had too many servings of Dutch gin.

Tara accompanied him outside, gently rubbing his back to soothe his nausea. "I think you've drunk enough for the night."

Charlie waved her away. "I'm fine. I just needed some air."

They both took a deep breath in and breathed out in unison. Glancing to one another, they chuckled.

"Well, I've had enough," Tara said more to herself than to Charlie.

"Should we walk back?"

"No," she chuckled. "I don't mean tonight. I mean this whole stupid mess of a tour."

"But you have all of these shows lined up. You can't quit."

"Come on, Charlie. Haven't you seen where we've been playing? Tonight was our only real gig. The only one we actually got paid to do. I can't believe I came here to play open mic nights and sleep in a van behind a man that talks and farts way too much when my fiance is back home." Tara smiled to herself. "I wanted the experience, you know? From the van life to small venues. I dreamt of it. But do you know what I figured out?"

"That men can be disgusting?" Charlie joked.

"I already knew that," she giggled. "No. I realized that I really love my life back home. I love my job, which I risked losing to come here. I love our dinky little flat and all of our friends. I don't even want to be a professional musician. I just want Darcy and my life back home. I actually like playing the small pubs at home. It's different here. Something's missing."

"Our friends."

"Exactly."

"So, you have no more contracts to hold your end on anymore?" Charlie wondered.

Tara shook her head. "Only tonight."

With a grin, Charlie shrugged. "Let's quit, then. We could leave tomorrow." As an afterthought, he wondered, "does Jeff even want to be here?"

"You're joking, right?" Tara snickered. "Jeff is one conversation away from going to Dutch prison for murdering his cousin. He can't wait go get back to the UK."

As if summoned by their mention of him, Jeff's voice rang out across the street. "Calm down!"

Just outside of the nightclub was their small party, which hadn't drawn in too much of an audience just yet.

"Tell him to call down!" Oliver told Jeff as he shoved Vinny in the chest.

Charlie and Tara rushed over. Charlie grabbed his brother by the arm and put himself between him and Vinny. With an accusing glare, Charlie asked Vinny, "what's going on?"

"Ask him," Vinny sneered and motioned to Oliver. "The pussy can't take a joke."

"The fuck did you just call me?" Oliver growled, shoving Charlie aside to get to Vinny.

This time, Jeff pulled Vinny away, hoping to defuse the tension.

Charlie tried to get ahold of his brother, holding him by the shoulders to force eye contact. "Calm down."

"You didn't hear what he said," Oliver snapped. "He was talking about you."

"It was a joke," Vinny droned on.

Charlie still did his best to calm his little brother down.

"He called you a--" Oliver started.

"I don't care," Charlie said.

"But he said--"

Holding Oliver by the scruff of his t-shirt, Charlie removed his brother from the situation. Tara went with them, leaving Jeff to reason with his cousin alone. "I don't care what he said, Olly. I don't want you involved. The last thing I need is mum and dad blaming me for your arrest."

"He's not staying at my place," Oliver stated, shrugging his brother away. "Fuckin' Neanderthal talking shit about my brother. He deserves a smack to the head," he mumbled to himself.

Charlie turned to Tara, his kindness getting the better of him. "But where will Vinny sleep?"

Tara offered a shrug of apathy. "The van? I don't really care, to be honest."

They walked to Oliver's house in relative silence. They were all drunk to some degree or another, all ready to turn in for the night. When they got in, Oliver ran to the bathroom to vomit. Instinctively, Charlie cleaned his little brother's face when the it was over and helped Oliver to his bedroom. It didn't make a difference that Oliver was now 20 years old. He would always be Charlie's baby brother.

"You don't need to defend me," Charlie told him, helping Oliver to the bed.

"That's insane," he chuckled. "I'd be a shit brother if I didn't."

"It isn't worth getting hurt."

"I wasn't the one who would've been hurt," Oliver boasted. He sighed as his mind drifted and Charlie tucked him in like a child. His eyes rested across the room onto a sofa Charlie would be using as a bed. Staring at the plush toy Nick had given Charlie, he wondered, "is it just me, or is that dog glowing?"

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