Oppressive darkness shrouds the vast black hallway while spotlights scream energy out on stage where there is air. Wait, raging son. Shrill electric pandemonium resounds from mile-high boxes, drowning out sickly shrieking adoration. Unclench, trembling brother.
Brother waits, impatient for his younger sibling to leave the stage. Fists at his sides he scrutinizes the singer as he wails and thrashes for his audience. Brother’s fury lies in the frustration that the little shit would never mutter a sound while taking his beatings.
Brother ducks into the cover of the darkness as the song ends and the band begins to leave the stage.
“Sir!” calls a staff member, addressing man as he finally arrives in the wings. “This guy says he’s your brother…”
Man squints into the shadows. When brother steps forward he waves off his employee and approaches.
Brother cranes his neck to sneer at man’s effeminate make-up, his long hair, his slim body in tight clothing. He wonders how so many women can desire such a sissy.
“It’s father,” brother hisses. “He’s in the hospital.”
“Why should I care?” man asks, turning to leave.
Brother grasps his sleeve. “Mother wants you there.”
“Fine, I’m almost done,” man says. He walks back onstage to thunderous applause.
Brother seethes, biding the time until his next opportunity to shine in father’s eyes.
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Disclaimer: This story (and series) is semi-fictional, and is in no way connected to persons alive nor dead. Apart from certain facts, it is a product of the author’s imagination.