I hadn’t even finished buttoning up my jeans before he was back on the same line ofquestioning.
“So?”
A heavy sigh was my onlyreply.
“Come on, Jake. Just give me thirty minutes of your time. That’s all I’masking.”
No. He was asking for a lot more than that. “I’m getting married in a couple of hours. Can we postpone your future foranotherday?”
“You’ve been postponing for as long as I’ve been asking,” my brother said, kicking around a paper towel on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “Pretty soon you’ll run out of excuses. I mean, it’s a yes or no question. How hard canitbe?”
“In thatcase,no.”
My brother’s eyes narrowed into angry slits. “You’re such an asshole sometimes, Jake. You act so high and mighty, but you’re notallthat.”
I didn’t like the accusation in his words. For the first time, I realized there was more to his resentful attitude than just being a surly teen. “What’s upwithyou?”
“You want to know what’s up? I’m tired of you treating me like I don’t matter. Anytime I bring up music, you brush me off like I’m some kid with delusional dreams. Well, I’ve got news for you, dickhead, I’m going to be a musician whether you like itornot.”
“Be my guest. It’s not like I’m trying to stand inyourway.”
“It’s not? Because from where I’m standing, it sure looks that way. All I’m asking for is a little of your time, and that’s too much for you tospare.”
“You don’t want time, Quinn. You want a handout. There’s a difference. I did it on my own. Whycan’tyou?”
“Because I’m not you, Jake! I don’t have a built-in tragedy to impress the judges.” Immediately Quinn’s face creased as he winced at his own words. “That… I didn’tmeanthat.”
But his piercing words had already hit their mark, and through bared teeth, I snarled back at my brother. “Fuck you! I know what youmeant.”
“That’s not… Ididn’t.”
“Save it, Quinn. Find yourself another sugar daddy.Iquit!”
“You can’t quit something you never were.” Quinn pushed off the basin and brushed past me on his way to the door; then stopped abruptly and walked back. “No. You know what? I’m tired of you acting like you’re the only one who suffered. Did you forget that I grew up in the eye of your fuckinghurricane?”
“Oh, well, shit, Quinn, I’m sorry if my suffering offended you. I should have been more sensitive to your delicateneeds.”
Looking about ready to explode, my little brother stood there clamping his hands into fists. I waited for his screaming reply, but somehow he held onto his temper. In an even tone of voice, he said, “Actually, I changed my mind. I don’t need or want your help anymore. I’m done begging foryourtime.”
A sudden draw of air turned our attention toward the door just as Finn, my sister’s fiancé, strode in. Upon eyeing the two of us in our impromptu pissing match, Finn didn’t skip a beat. “Hey, guys. I hear this is where all the dickshangout.”
His comment was unexpected enough to draw a snort of laughter from me. I glanced at Quinn in hopes the joke had evoked a comparable reaction and our argument would be over, but there was no levity in his terse stance. In fact, my sudden amusement set him in motion. Quinn headed for the exit, kicking the garbage can into the wall on his way tothedoor.
“That’s just the attitude I want on my tour,” I said to his exiting back, succeeding in doing nothing more than pouring fuel onthefire.
He spun around, his jaw tense and twitching, and I waited for a volley of grenades to be lobbied in my direction; but again, Quinn refrained from comment, choosing only to flip me off as he disappearedfromview.
“Whoa,” Finn said, his eyes twice their normal size. “What’s gottenintohim?”
“Apparently, I’m not making him famous fastenough.”
“Ah, like you didforme?”
“Right.”
After introducing Finn to my agent, his career as an actor had taken off, and he’d just wrapped up a supporting role in a major studio movie. But the difference between him and my baby brother was that Finn had put in the work. He’d struggled for years and paid his dues and now, finally, things were happening for him. There was no better way to appreciate success than to fightforit.
Quinn didn’t get that. He saw my early success and pointed to it as reason enough for him to get moving. But my experiences as a young musician had scarred me, and I didn’t want that for him. My brother needed more than just talent and looks to make it in the business… he needed grit, and from what I could see of his coddled existence, hehadnone.
