"So, kids! Today is a very important day for me!" having lined us up, mom walks to and fro in front of us in the dining room. "Let's at least try to look presentable. Alex!"

"What about me?!" I exclaim.

"Why are your jeans covered in paint?"

"Stacey did it! And I don't have another pair!"

"Have you heard about washing?!"

"It wasn't a laundry day yet!"

Our voices rise as we argue with mom.

"That's enough!" She exclaims, and I quiet down, narrowing my eyes at my brother and sisters. "As if they look better," I mutter under my breath.

"Quiet!" Mom commands firmly. "As I was saying, today is an important day for me. For all my life, I have always cared for you and put you first..."

"But not all at once," I grumble again, and my mother smacks my nape slightly.

"And today, I want you to show a little gratitude in return and not embarrass me in front of someone important to me."

"You never told us who this 'important person' is," Mel clowns, and I expect mom to scold her, but she just frowns.

"I can't tell you everything, you're not old enough yet," mom says, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm 27!" Mel protests.

"I'm 23!" I shout.

"I couldn't care less," Todd mutters lazily.

"I wanna ride a yacht!" Stacey exclaims.

"And you will, baby," mom cooes affectionately to her, then turns an annoyed look at the three of us. "Now listen. Richard is an important person in my life, and I want us to make a good impression."

"Is Richard going to be our dad?" Stacey asks loudly, and we all look at mom with curiosity. She blushes.

"Honey, it's not that simple. And not everything is happening so fast. I'm just asking you to dress nicely and mind your manners! That's all. Please," mom's voice softens, and she pleads with us. "I'm asking you. If you love me even just a little bit."

We exchange glances.

"Okay, mom, of course, we'll behave decently," Mel finally says. "Although I can't vouch for these dum-dums."

"Who are you calling dum-dums?!" I fume. "Do you think these pair of enormous glasses on your head somehow makes you a genius?!"

"Well, at least I could afford them as well as a pair of jeans!"

Taking the opportunity while no one is paying attention, Todd sneaks toward the stairs, but a creaky step betrays him, and he starts stomping upstairs.

"Maybe we shouldn't take Todd?" Mel asks mom.

"Why would you say that?" Mom is surprised.

Oh, blind motherly love... I'm not familiar with!

"Mom, well... Todd, he's..." Melinda whistles. "...a little off."

"What? Why would you say such things about your brother?!" Mom gets defensive.

"Okay, okay, never mind. It's none of my business," Mel raises her hands, defeated, retreats to the stairs, and goes up to her room.

"Please, cover up this mess somehow," my mother says wearily, hinting at the paint on my jeans. Stacey climbs onto her lap, wrapping her arms around mom's neck. I silently shake my head and head upstairs as well.

These jeans should've been washed yesterday... I still have a pair of shorts, but it's too cool for that. I count yesterday's earnings, there's enough for new jeans, but I'm not going to spend money on clothes I don't really need just to show off in front of some fancy people on a yacht!

I leave the room and knock on Todd's door. Despite the five-year age difference, we're similar in height and figure. Maybe he can lend me something?

"Todd?" I knock again.

"What do you want?" his voice, muffled and lazy, sounds from behind the door. I take it as permission and enter. He sits on a low bed, holding a bass guitar. By the wall, there's a bookcase with a pile of books, and near a small window, a table cluttered with papers and traces of mugs with tea and coffee. In the corner, there's a massive, worn-out chest where Todd keeps his clothes. Or maybe not - he always walks around in the same outfit and almost never leaves the house.

"I didn't allow you to come in." He may be angry, but his expression is the same all the time, and his voice is absolutely flat, so I can't tell.

"Listen... do you have any spare jeans? Since it's so important for mom that we look decent."

"What's wrong with yours?" he asks me in the same tone, making it unclear if it's mockery or not. I point my finger at the paint stains on my pants.

"Stacey decided to do some art. And I'm not sure if it can be washed off already... Please," I look at him. He silently nods at the chest, showing no irritation or joy about it. I flip the lid back and start rummaging through things.

Todd has a lot of cool things to wear, but he always walks around the house in greasy baggy pants and a stretched T-shirt. I find jeans at the very bottom of the chest. I take out a dark blue pair, and suddenly, a photo falls to the floor. I barely manage to pick it up before Todd, showing unprecedented agility, appears near me and snatches the photo. I don't even have time to see who's on it. I look at my brother in surprise. For the first time in a long time, I see an emotion on his face - his eyes wide open, eyebrows drawn together, and his lips parted as if he wants to say something, but he remains silent. He sits back down on the mattress, holding the photo in his hands. His face regains a calm, detached expression, although the blush is still visible on his cheeks.

"I'll take these jeans," I say, not knowing how to react, and Todd nods indifferently. I leave the room. As I close the door, out of the corner of my eye, I see Todd flipping the photo over and looking at it.

I don't remember Todd being like this. No, he wasn't always so withdrawn. Due to the age difference, Todd and I weren't particularly close. When he was 20 years old, he left. He played in a band, and they toured countries, but the band didn't become mega-popular. Then something happened, and he returned home... after six long years. And he's been like that ever since. I wonder what happened after all?

I go back to my room and glance at the clock; this Nolan dude is due to arrive in an hour. I think I just have enough time to jot down a couple more songs, the lines of which have been spinning in my head for a long time. Behind the wall, Todd is tugging on the bass strings. I wonder, did I start making music because of him? It was hard to shake off the image of an older brother - a cool rock musician. Maybe I unconsciously decided to follow in his footsteps. But damn it... for him, that's how it ended... should I quit?

I look around the room, littered with notes and chords... Hmm... well... maybe I can do better! And I can't imagine myself without it.

After forty minutes of unsuccessful attempts to get the words of a song that wouldn't sound clumsy and funny, I change into Todd's jeans and a relatively fresh shirt. Going downstairs, I see Melinda in a beautiful dress, with loose hair that lies on her shoulders in thick shiny waves. Her face has intense makeup - in short, her look is killing.

Mom is also in a dress; I haven't seen this for a long time. She has her curly copper hair in a voluminous bun, but several strands still got out of it, and it seems to me that this makes her look even better, giving some liveliness to her image. And most importantly, she has rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. Stacey is dressed in a ruffled skirt and blouse, but she doesn't seem to like it and asks, "If we're going on a boat, why can't I put on a sailor's suit?"

"Because you're a sweet girl," mom replies.

"But I want to be a sailor!" she protests.

"You can be a sailor some other time!" Mom frowns, and Stacey pouts.

Todd comes down behind me; it's very unexpected to see him in jeans and a shirt. His face though is still the same. Mom pats him on the cheek, but he doesn't react. I wonder why he even bothered dressing up.

"Alex!" Mom calls me sternly.

"What?! I put on clean jeans!"

"What's on your head?"

"What's on my head?" I panic for a moment, checking my hair; it seems in place, and there's nothing on it. Melinda, laughing, hands me a comb. I take it reluctantly and attempt to tame my unruly hair. I feel like I've sacrificed too much for this day already! Melinda continues to chuckle, watching me struggle to decide which way to put my rebellious locks.

"What's up with you?" I inquire testily. "Are you trying to charm this Nolan douche?"

"Well, why not?" She flutters her painted eyelashes and adds gloss to her lips. "I like guys like him - tall, slender, muscular, dapper... And that tushie," she rolls her eyes dreamily.

"Tushie... Ugh..." I twist my mouth, looking at her. "You're joking, right?"

Melinda laughs. "Not at all. And those eyes... have you seen his eyes? Cold gray... mmm... chiseled jaw, sharp cheekbones," she smiles, licking her lips.

"That's enough! I've heard enough already," I interrupt her, returning the comb.

"You're just jealous that he's handsome," she teases.

I grimace. "With that kind of attitude, no beauty will help!" I parry. "Take him and leave the house! This way, there will be more space for the rest of us."

"Oh, what a wicked person you are!" Melinda waves me off.

A signal sounds outside, and we all pour out into the street.