Who: Kirley and Myron Where: Myron's flat When: Thursday, December 22, 2005 - afternoon What: Brothers talking Rating: medium for language
Sitting on the sofa in his living room, Myron held a bottle of vodka in one hand and a book in the other. He had perfected the art of turning pages with his thumbs as he read, preventing him from having to put a bottle down while he was reading.
The flat was clean, through no effort of Myron's. Between Kevin and Sarah, things got down and he didn't live in a sty. His flat was a far cry from the suite, but Myron didn't try to think about that. Kirley had taken it for himself and Melinda and Myron didn't want to think about his brother. Most days Myron made a concentrated effort not to think about Kirley and most days he failed miserably. But, as his life was miserable already, Myron figured a little more misery wouldn't hurt.
The last few years of his life had been awful. He knew where it all went wrong, of course. That tour. That bloody tour which had seemed like such a good idea, but ending up destroying everything he loved and held dear. It had been the tour that nearly killed Gideon. It had been the tour that pulled Kirley away from the band and into the arms of that woman. It had been the tour which allowed him to fall for Hermione only to have his heart irrecoverably shattered. And it had been the tour that opened Myron's eyes to the reality of the band.
Nothing since the tour seemed to go right for him. He'd lost Hermione, his home, his band, and his brother in such a short time span and Myron wasn't sure if there was anything he could do to get them all back. He wasn't sure if he wanted them back either. So, now he lived in a small flat in a building that was filled with memories and pain. He had Kevin, Merlin bless that man, and he had Sarah. The others came and went on occasion, but Myron could see their thoughts in their eyes. He could feel the shame and the disappointment they felt towards him.
Turning the page, Myron took another drink and sighed. It was too bloody quiet. Kevin was off doing something and Sarah had left hours before. The flat was silent, even his dogs were sleeping. So when a knock came at the door, Myron jumped in surprise before getting up to answer it.
Standing in the doorway was Kirley. Myron froze, staring at his brother. They didn't.. hell. He couldn't remember the last time they'd seen each other. "Uh...," he stammered out. "Hi?"
---
He didn't know what he was doing.Was he absolutely insane for coming to his brother? They hadn't spoken in ages and any time they had spoken it had been tense and impersonal. Even holidays were awful now, with what had happened between them and the band.
As for his own life, Kirley was actually happy, with few exceptions. He had a successful solo career going, not only with his own performances, but selling songs he'd written to other artists, and there had even been talk recently of attempting a break into the Muggle music scene. He hadn't made a decision yet, but it was promising.
And he had Melinda. By some miracle, she'd taken him back, and he'd made good on his promise of monogamy. It was difficult at first, controlling his urges and comments, but he made it work, and soon it was second nature to him. Melinda was all he needed, and really all he wanted. And now they were going to get married. He probably should have proposed years ago, but it was better late than never. She had a ring on her finger now, and though they hadn't discussed wedding plans, he didn't want to wait very long. She was the one he was meant to be with, and he didn't see a point in putting it off.
He had to tell Myron though. Estranged though they may be, they were still brothers. It was probably going to do more harm than good, but Kirley hadn't told anyone yet. He wanted Myron to be the first to know.
"Hey," he said quietly, staring back at Myron. It had been a long time since the two of them were alone together, and he wasn't really sure what to do.
---
A voice in his head (which sounded remarkably like his mother) told Myron to invite Kirley inside. So he did, wordlessly, by stepping to the side and gesturing towards his living room. Once Kirley walked inside, Myron shut the door and followed him, plopping down on his sofa and picking up the half empty bottle to take a drink. He was going to need it if he hoped to get through this at all.
"So, why are you here?" It couldn't be because Kirley missed him. That ship had sailed ages ago. The time for missing and regret had passed and all that was left was figuring out how to exist without each other. Kirley seemed to be doing a fine job. Myron believed that Kirley could fall into a pile of shit and come out smelling like roses. Even when things went horribly wrong in Kirley's life, they all seemed to sort themselves out again.
---
Kirley hadn't expected to be invited in. He'd expected Myron to slam the door in his face, or yell at him to leave, or anything other than being invited inside. Still, he followed him in and took a seat on one of the chairs, though he didn't allow himself to get comfortable. He frowned slightly at his brother drinking, but didn't say anything. He drank plenty as well, but not like this. When Kirley drank, it was to have a good time. It didn't appear the same for his brother. Kirley didn't know how much Myron was drinking, but he could take a guess. He hated this. He hated how they'd broken apart, and he honestly didn't know what stopped him from reaching out before now. Anger, frustration, abandonment were a few words that came to mind when he thought about it. It never should have happened, but it did, and they had to deal.
When Myron spoke, Kirley looked down at his hands for a minute before raising his eyes to look at his brother. "I'm getting married," he said, not wanting to beat around the bush at all.
---
The words hit Myron harder than he expected. He thought he had made peace with being replaced awhile back, but apparently he hadn't. Staring at Kirley for a long moment, Myron felt all the rage that he'd been pushing down for years boil back up again. Kirley was getting married. The man who swore off commitment, monogamy, and rejected the concept of love just to change his mind and then betray the women he claimed to love now got to fucking marry her and start a life in the house Myron had literally helped to create. And while all this joy and happiness was going on, Myron was left out in the proverbial cold.
Myron had been the one to believe in love. He'd been the romantic one, the one who fought and begged for love. And now he was the one who was alone.
"Fuck you."
---
He had expected that reaction. There was no way Myron was going to be happy for him, not after how they'd left things. It didn't make it easier to hear though. He wondered if things would ever be okay between the two of them again.
"So I guess asking you to be the best man would be out of the question?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at his brother.
---
Myron was so angry at Kirley that the bottle was set down with a hard crack against the coffee table. It was a wonder the damn thing didn't break. "Your best man? Seriously? No, I don't want to be your fucking best man. I barely want to be your brother, but I don't have much choice about that, do I?" Myron pushed his far too long hair away from his face and shook his head.
"If you even bothered to think about anyone but yourself or your precious fiancee then maybe you'd realize what a stupid fucking question that was."
---
Kirley sighed and ran a hand through his hair as his brother spoke. It hurt when he said he didn't want to be his brother anymore. They had been brothers since the day they met, even before anyone had the idea to make Myron a part of their family. There had been an instant connection that bonded them when they met on the train. They were supposed to be family. They were supposed to be together. This rift between them, Myron moving out, none of it was supposed to have happened.
"For your information, I think about you every fucking day," he said, a sadness in his eyes as he spoke. "I miss you every day. I think about what when wrong every day. I wish I could fix it, but I don't know how. So don't sit there and call me selfish and say that the only thing I think of is me and Mel. Because it's not true."
---
"Classic Kirley," Myron said with a bitter laugh. "Believing that just thinking about someone is the same thing as caring about them and being unselfish." How was it possible that Kirley was so unaware of the world around him? Myron knew the answer, of course. It was because Kirley didn't want to trouble himself with anything that wasn't happy and easy. Kirley didn't want to face troubles. He wanted the world to be easy.
"Do you want to know what went wrong? Honestly? You were too fucking busy caring about you and your relationship to see what was going on with me." Myron was blunt and harsh. The anger and betrayal he felt over Kirley ignoring his grief wasn't something that could be easily fixed. "Because while I was sitting there broken, you had to go and fuck up and then the world became about you again, right? Because the world is always about you. You came here after how long and it wasn't because you missed me. No. It was because there was something new in YOUR life. Something about YOU."
---
Kirley huffed a laugh and let himself sink back into his chair. "Oh yeah, I did it all on purpose. I cheated and hated myself for weeks specifically so that any attention that might have gone to you would go to me. That's exactly what I did." The sarcasm was dripping from his words, even though he knew Myron wasn't completely wrong. Kirley had been too busy worrying about his own life that he couldn't look past the surface of what was going on with his brother.
"Do you know how many wards I've written you, how many letters I've written, how many times I've wanted to come over here and talk to you, only to scratch them out, toss them away, and stop myself because I thought you wouldn't care? No, you don't. Honestly I don't either. I've lost count." He shook his head and looked away. He hadn't wanted to come here and fight, but it seemed like it was always going to be this way with the two them.
Closing his eyes, he tried to regain himself. He didn't want to cry in front of his brother, but the prickle of tears could already be felt in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, turning back. "She hurt you, and I didn't do enough. I should have tried harder, even before what happened with Mel."
---
Rolling his eyes, Myron reached for his bottle and drank a few, large gulps back quickly. The burning of the vodka was killing his throat, but Myron had stopped caring. He wasn't performing these days, why did he care? He didn't care about anything.
"Am I supposed to give you credit for almost doing something? For not following through? Should I be satisfied with knowing that, hey, my brother thought about talking to me. Because, sorry to say, but that doesn't mean shit to me. Thinking about making things better, thinking about me after ignoring me for ages, that doesn't mean shit, Kirley. And spare me. It wasn't that you didn't do 'enough." You didn't do anything. You didn't even fucking notice."
Myron stood up from the sofa and walked into his small kitchen. The vodka wasn't going to do it. He needed something stronger. Sarah probably had a potion around the flat somewhere. Or maybe he did. Someone did. Myron opened drawers and slammed them shut, furiously looking for a vial.
---
Kirley sighed and shook his head as Myron spoke. "I did notice, but you insisted you were fine. You were adamant you wanted the rock star life. Who was I to stop you? I'm not Mum or Dad. I'm not going to tell you what to do. You said you wanted it, so I let you have it. I'm sorry for not beating some sense into you if that's what you think I should have done, but I did have my own shit going on. We all did."
He watched him get up, and reluctantly followed him into the kitchen. "What are you doing?" he asked, tilting his head to the side a bit as he watched. Myron was clearly looking for something. He only hoped it wasn't a knife.
---
Slamming a drawer shut, Myron spun and faced his brother. His face was red with rage. Anger didn't use to come to Myron often, but in the last few years it seemed as easy to come by as oxygen. "I know everyone had their 'own shit' going on. Who in the fuck do you think always handled everyone's shit? Who worked to get Gid clean? Who kept the band fucking going? Who planned the tour? Who made sure we remembered to hire maids and cooks and whatever else was needed? Do you think all that shit just happened? While you were off shagging anything with two legs, though I'm surprised you were that picky sometimes, I was handling everyone's shit. And when my life fell apart, when my heart was shattered and when I fell down, people just fucking worried about their 'own shit.' Well, sorry that my goddamn life was too much for you to care about."
Myron's voice was filling the room. The hurt he felt, the abandonment and the betrayal had all come to the surface and there was no getting it under control. "She didn't take me back, Kirley. You got Mel back, you know. Even when you fucked it up. I did nothing and I still lost the love of my life. I waited. I looked for her. I fucking waited for months, waited for her to be ready for me and then after it all I still got fucked over. But you! You fucking fucked it all fucking up and what do you get?! You get my house! You get all our friends! You get to be married! Do you want me to be happy for you? Do you want me to stand up there and smile while you get EVERYTHING?"
His voice cracked on the last word and Myron reached behind him to grab the counter, worried he was going to fall to the floor. In that moment he hated his brother. He hated Kirley for having everything while he had nothing at all. And he loathed his brother for coming over and rubbing it in his face.
Dropping his head, Myron felt his shoulders shake. "It's not fucking fair," he said quietly. "It's not fair and you know it's not fair."
---
Kirley stood there, helpless as Myron yelled. He made sense, the words he said. They'd all been selfish, dealing with their own problems rather than coming together and lifting each other up as they should have. He thought back, tried to figure out how it had all happened. Maybe the tour had been too long. Maybe there were too many of them. Maybe they had just reached the point in their lives where other things took priority. Now years had passed, and the gulf between them had grown into an ocean. Kirley had no idea how to fix it.
"I know it's not fair," he said, his tone matching Myron's. Kirley took a tentative step forward, the instinctual need to comfort his brother taking over. "Don't you think I know that I don't deserve anything I have? I did the unforgivable, but for some reason she still took me back. I'm never going to understand that. Just like I'm never going to understand why the same didn't happen for you. I don't know how our lives got so backward."
He was standing close to him now. Closer physically than he had been in years. "I never wanted you to leave," he said. "I didn't want the house. You can have it back if that's what you want. I just wanted my brother."
---
Shaking his head, Myron refused to look up. His eyes were red, tears threatening to spill. "I don't want the house," he said. It was too filled with memories and faded dreams of what should have been. The ghosts and echoes of all his hopes lingered in that house and Myron hated it. It was too big and there wasn't enough of Myron left to fill it.
"I don't even want to live here," he admitted. Myron wasn't sure why he'd remained in the building. It was easier, he supposed. Kevin was close and he could pretend he visited his friends. But Myron knew he didn't belong at 54 any longer. He should live in the country away from the world that had passed him by years ago. Hell, some mornings Myron wasn't sure if he even wanted to keep living at all.
Pushing his too long hair away from his face, Myron finally looked up at Kirley. "I can't be happy for you. I'm sorry. I know you want me to be glad for you and Mel, but I can't be. Because all I can see is everything I don't have. And I know that's selfish of me, but..." He trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders. Logically, Myron knew it wasn't anyone's fault, but in his most broken and darkest thoughts, Myron blamed Kirley and Mel for everything. They didn't deserve what they had and Myron couldn't stop resenting them for having it.
---
"I get it," Kirley said with a nod. "I don't like it, but I get it." He did. He understood the jealousy, even though he wished with all his heart it wasn't there. He was happy in his life, that was certain, but it was a strange sort of happiness, one that didn't quite feel complete without Myron.
Daring to push his luck even further, Kirley reached out and laid a hand on Myron's shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before pulling back. "I'll go then," he said, clearing his throat, trying to fight away the emotions. "But... stop drinking, okay? At least for today. Have a cuppa and take a nap or something. I'll see you at Christmas?"
---
Kirley's hand felt heavy on Myron's shoulder. It had been the first time his brother touched him in months. Possibly years. And it felt more painful than if Kirley had punched him in the face. Myron pulled back a little, not able to handle the contact.
"Mum's making me come," Myron said. He didn't want to celebrate Christmas and he really didn't want to be around Kirley and Mel now that they'd be basking in the glow of their engagement, but Myron wasn't about to hurt his mother or father. "So, yeah. You'll see me."
He didn't comment on Kirley's request for him to stop drinking. Drinking was all he had to look forward to some days and he wasn't about to stop now.
---
He sighed and nodded, taking a step back. This wasn't going to be easy, but he'd tried. He'd made an attempt to do... something. It probably wouldn't work, and it was likely all for nothing, but maybe it was a start.
"Mum can be pushy like that," he said, the ghost of a grin on his lips. "But what can we do? She's Mum."
Kirley ran a hand through his hair and looked around a bit awkwardly. He couldn't justify staying any longer, and he needed to get back to the studio. There was still one song he had to choose for his new album. "Alright. See you then," he said. "I love you, brother."
Turning around, he didn't wait for a response and headed out of the flat.