The sound of my alarm drummed into my ears, and I let out a slight groan as I opened my eyes and moved my hand out from underneath me to turn it off. I was not a morning person. I didn't understand how anyone could wake up from a restful sleep and be happy about it.
"Peter, you'd better be getting up!" My mum's voice floated from what I assumed was the top of the staircase, causing me to stir under my blankets.
"In a minute!" I called back, shoving my face deeper into my pillows and curling up into a tight ball.
"I'll beat your ass in a minute. Now get up!" She called back. I heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs, and I let out another groan before practically falling out of my bed.
In what seemed like the most gruelling ten minutes of my life, as it seemed like every morning, I managed to get dressed and make my way down the stairs.
"It's not like I haven't been out of the country before, but I've never performed out of the country, and it's quite a large tour as well." Bradly's voice drifted out of the kitchen and through the dining room as I wandered into it, slowly, but surely making my way to where his voice had come from.
"Honey, it's a great opportunity! I know it's a bit daunting, but I don't want to see you regret it if you don't go." My mum's voice followed my brother's just as I set foot into the kitchen.
Both of them were sitting at the large island counter that sat in the middle of the kitchen, and both of them turned to look up at me as I entered.
"I've just put some bread in the toaster, sweetie," my mother stated, smiling at me, and I did my best to return it, though it didn't have the same brightness as hers did.
"It's a big step. That's all I'm saying." My brother had turned his attention back to our mother, continuing their previous conversation.
"What's this?" I asked, grabbing some sliced cheese out of the fridge, and deciding on a bland breakfast.
"It's called minding your own business," Bradly commented, and my mum hushed him.
"We both know I suck at that." I let out a small chuckle and turned to face my mother and Bradly. "Is this for dancing?"
"Performing," Bradly corrected me, and I rolled my eyes.
"And you perform by dancing."
"That's not the point—" Bradly started, but our mum cut him off.
"Yes, it is."
"Oh, sweet. That means I don't have to care." I smiled at Bradly and turned just in time for my toast to be ready.
"Actually, you'll be able to help him make a decision," Mum stated, and I heard her push her chair out and walk over to me. "Just give a little insight."
"What insight could I possibly give?" I asked, placing some cheese on my toast before taking a bite. "Plus, I'm still pissed about the birthday thing."
"He asks a good question, Mum," Bradly chimed in, and my mum looked between us.
"Fine, then, don't. Sorry for thinking brothers could support each other." With that, she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Bradly and me alone.
"Seriously? Just cheese?" Bradly asked, staring at me with a questioning look and I let out a slight scoff.
"Well, yeah. Wouldn't want to get fat like you, would I?"
"Hilarious," Bradly said shortly, before looking down at the kitchen counter. "Do you think I should go?"
"I was serious before. I'm still pissed about the birthday thing," I muttered, my mouth full of my breakfast of bread and cheese.
"The birthday present was my apology," Brad said, stifling a laugh.
"A game console doesn't fix the emotional damage. And besides, I need more context on your situation to help," I said truthfully, jumping up slightly to sit on the island counter.
One thing I wasn't too fond of in our kitchen was that there was barely any other counter space than the island counter, which meant that most of our appliances were scattered across it. Luckily, the bench had power points on its side. If it hadn't, things would have gotten a little messy.
"An opportunity has come up for me to audition for a show that would take me to Europe," Bradly filled me in, and I nodded along with what he was saying. "I mean, it's a crazy big deal, and it could open a lot of possibilities, but I'm not sure. Also, the game console fixes all emotional damage, you baby."
"Well, the good news is, you may flop at the audition. And not even get in, then you won't have to worry!" I said with a smile, and Bradly gave me a slight glare.
"Okay, fine. I'm sorry about the prank," Brad said, before muttering, "dick."
"Look, Brad. I think you've already got an answer to your problem," I said, taking another bite out of my bland breakfast.
"Which is?" Bradly asked, sitting up a little straighter in his chair and looking over at me.
"Well, this thing is a big deal, yeah?" Bradly nodded at my words, so I continued, "and you're excited about it? I mean, you're excited about the opportunity?"
"Well, yeah, I guess, but—" Bradly started, but I cut him off.
"Then go for it. Look, I know that there's doubt in your mind and that you're a little freaked out about heading overseas to perform, but isn't that the dream? Didn't you take up dancing because you loved the feeling you got when you did it? You loved the adrenaline when people watched you?" My face held a questioning look as I asked Bradly these questions, and I could see that he was thinking a lot of things through.
"Yes, but it's a big step, Pete," Bradly challenged, and I shook my head at him.
"What's different about touring around this country than it will be touring around another? Dancing is dancing, Brad. People don't have to speak your language, look like you, or believe in what you believe in. If they love dancing, they don't care, as long as you're good at it.
"As much as it pains me to say this, and I will do my best not to repeat it, but... I've seen you dance, Brad, and you are good at it. So, it shouldn't matter where you dance, who you dance for, or how many people you dance in front of because you'll smash it. Go for the audition. The worst-case scenario is you don't get it. But think of what'll happen if you do. Think of where you'll go."
Bradly looked at me as I finished speaking, and I turned away from him. The kitchen had become silent, and the toasted cheese sandwich in my hand had gone cold, but after a few more moments of not speaking, Bradly broke the silence, clearing his throat.
"I think you're right."
"What's new? Now don't catch me being supportive again," I mumbled and jumped down from the counter, downing my cold sandwich and putting my plate in the dishwasher. "And also, your birthday next year isn't happening."
"Thanks, Pete. But you know you'll forget about the whole birthday thing by next year."
"Don't mention it. Ever. And also, fuck you."
I gave Bradly one last look and saw him smile stupidly at me before resting his head on the counter and letting out a sigh. Knowing that there was nothing else that I could say to help him, I headed out of the kitchen and dashed through the house and up the stairs to grab my bag and car keys.
"I'm off to school!" I called out as I made my way back down the stairs, and I heard a few muffled voices call back.
Comments (1)
See all