WHO: Brandon and Leah WHAT: Drunken sibling times. WHEN: March 4th, evening. WHERE: The Presidential Skybox, MSG. RATING: Medium for language. It's Brandon and Leah, come on. STATUS: In progress
Things felt more natural when Leah was pissed off at Frenchie. The world felt like it was in balance or whatever other hippie shit that Brandon couldn't think of at the moment. She was probably none too terribly pleased with him either, but at the very least she'd agreed to a drink with him.
This whole rebellion thing was turning into a mess. Leah didn't like Rodeo, and didn't really like Charlie a lot of the time, and there was that annoying tendency Frenchie had to piss her off. Brandon hated Frenchie, Frenchie hated Brandon... it was a whole fucking group of people who didn't like each other and Brandon wondered how long it would be before the whole situation exploded in their faces. For now, he was enjoying the relative calm before the shitstorm... as calm as it could be when your sister had just found out that the person she hated almost as much as she hated Frenchie was coming along with them.
Brandon didn't hate Rodeo. He got a lot of the guy's motivations to do what he did. Was the world any different, was the guy still knee deep in a criminal lifestyle, Brandon would probably have felt differently. But the fact of the matter was, he was making a conscious effort to change. And Charlie seemed to trust him. So long as he didn't threaten Leah again and so long as he kept Charlie happy? Brandon wouldn't need to kick his ass.
Sighing a little, he pushed a hand through his hair and gathered the bottle of whiskey from his bag, starting for the skybox. It was a good idea for him to scope the place out, anyway, since it was where he was going to fight Diddy Kong.
He'd shot Leah a text, telling her that was where he'd meet her, and sat down at the in-box bar-counter, waiting for Leah's arrival to crack open the bottle.