“Me? What about you?”
“I’m younger, so it’s always the older person’s fault,” he says playfully with a smirk.
“Younger by thirty minutes. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“That doesn’t matter. It still counts,” he snarks back.
He flinches back dramatically when I flick his ear. “You’re as stupid as a fruit fly.”
Before he can say something stupider, all of our eyes focus on a thick, dark smoke cloud in the sky. Which is most definitely caused by a fire.
“That looks horrifying,” Leonidas says as I frown.
I shake my head while still looking out the window. I rest my head back, close my eyes, and think about a life without fires, crimes, pain, and suffering.
Would everyone be happy? Would the poor be rich and the greedy rich be generous?
The sad part is, we will never know.
* * *
Placing my sticks in my bag, I take a sip of water.
“Great job, guys!” Justin, our agent, says, coming into the recording room.
His big smile is the fakest thing I’ve seen today so far.
“We got a lot of work done,” he says while glancing down at the clipboard in his hand. “Practice your voice exercises today when you get home.”
Packing up my bag, I listen as my brothers practically beg for more safety. We’ve been telling the team for months, but they just don’t listen.
“Justin, I hate that you’re making me sound like an annoying broken record, but we need extra security. The fans and paparazzi are getting crazier each day that passes.”
Justin sighs. “I’ll have to talk to the team to see if that’s possible. We might not have enough in the budget for that. I’ll let you know.” His curt voice is like a sharp knife cutting through the air.
“You need permission for our safety?” Leonidas laughs in disbelief. “We’re rich. I don’t see how this is even up for discussion. We can afford security.”
“Money can’t be thrown around like it’s nothing, Times Three.”
“Without us, you wouldn’t have any of this money,” Elijah pipes in.
“All I’m saying is, I’m not in charge of the money—”
“Then, who do I need to talk to?” Leonidas hums, cracking his tattooed knuckles. “Because I don’t appreciate when paparazzi try to grab my girlfriend’s and sister’s butts as they walk past them.”
“I’ll give you a number—”
Leonidas interrupts with a wave of his hand. “Go. We’d better have this number before we leave.”
From where I’m crouched down on the ground, stuffing my bag, I see Justin rushing out of the room before the door slams, and Leonidas lets out a curse.
“What a fucking life! I lose a brain cell every single time I hear him speak.” Elijah laughs as he slouches down on a couch and runs a hand down his face. “Every day, it gets harder to deal with the team’s shit. I’m losing my patience.” He gasps dramatically while placing a hand on his chest. “I’m becoming Leonidas.”
“Oh no … we have to take you to the doctor before your condition gets worse,” I say as I join him on the couch.
Teasing Leonidas is our favorite thing to do in our free time.
“Y’all should become stand-up comedians,” our brother says without taking his eyes off his phone.
