My Choice (Third in the "Baby Brother Series)

One

It started with meeting with the investor that wanted to make my dream a reality. I wanted to beautify, modernize, hell do whatever I can to make the place look as magnificent as I believe it can be. As I sat waiting in the hall for my meeting to start, I know I must have looked grossly unprepared. My dreads were tied back, files slipping out of my hands and my tie was loose. What do you expect from me? I had to run to my little brother's school because yet again one of those fucking turds thought that he needed to be shoved into a locker during one of his anxiety attacks. The school rations out detentions and suspensions but that doesn't stop it from happening. It also doesn't help that this new school has shoved my baby brother back into the closet.

There is just so much happening. We moved to CT a year ago. Our parents died 3 months ago. Bill was diagnosed with Manic Depressive Disorder Type 1 last week. And we've been trying to balance all of this while navigating the United States and his new school. He's on three medications, soon to be four if this combination doesn't even him out. His 'highs' are catalytic to school and his life. We had to figure it out when he randomly came to me after being subdued by his melancholy for two weeks and told me that he used his swear jar funds to buy a skateboard. That same week he attempted to go down a half pipe, got a concussion and broke his arm. My brother hadn't set foot on a board before that day and that's the first thing he does? Bill isn't like that. He is way smarter than that. I knew something was off. Luckily, I was able to speak to the on call psychiatrist and she was able to diagnosis him while he was in recovery. He hasn't had any flare ups yet....well except today. Bill has always been anxious. I used to shrug it off when we were younger, assumed that he was merely just being a nervous kid but now it's different. Since our parents died, he has been either waking up screaming or wakes me up embarrassed because he wet his bed.

No 14 year old wants to admit to their 25 year old brother that they had an accident. His nightmares? Bill never describes them to me. I want to know what's got him so on edge. What does he see when he closes his eyes at night? I just want to be there for my baby brother. We don't have anyone else. Heels clicking down the linoleum floor pull me from my thoughts, forcing my eyes to look up at who is making the noise. There she stood....walked. Blonde hair pinned up, exposing her slender neck and heart shaped face. Her shape enhanced by the black two piece skirt set she wore. Yet my gaze isn't focused on her body but her beautiful blue eyes. "Are you Tom Kaulitz?" She even had an accent. A sexy southern accent.

"Yes, sorry I'm so disheveled," I apologize standing to my feet. I drop all of my files at my feet and the pink blush rushes to my cheeks. Oh fuck. This isn't going to look for me. How am I to represent my company when I can't even represent myself? "Sorry." I quickly bend down and go to pick up the papers when she joins me.

"Did you draw these?" She asks, holding up one of my sketches. "They're really good."

"Oh yeah. Thanks, I uh, I want to design skyscrapers and also modern, affordable family homes," I chuckle nervously. "I also want to design the first ever hospital that's convenient for the patients."

"I'm sure we could use one of those here," she smiles. "Miley Ray-Cyrus." Holy shit. She's the investor. And I just made the worst first impression.

"Right. Mrs. Cyrus, I uh, sorry I didn't expect to be meeting you like this...with all my stuff not together," the words are out of my mouth before I can even decide if they're the right ones. Soon we are standing, me still blushing red from embarrassment.

"I've had people be nervous about meeting me before, Mr. Kaulitz. And its Ms. Cyrus. There isn't a mister in my life," her smile is perfect. We walk to her office and start our meeting. I love how she picks apart each of my drawings to get a better understanding of what I wanna do. We are halfway through our meeting when my phone rings. I don't wanna answer. It looks rude.