Conquest (2 page)
Brandon dropped his hand from Jesse’s chin. “I’ll help you out as much as I can.” He faced forward, squeezing the handlebars of the motorcycle with white-knuckled force. “He could’ve broken your jaw. I should show him the results of all my karate lessons he paid for when I was a kid.”
Jesse gazed at the distant expression and barely concealed hurt on Brandon’s face. If anyone understood how their father could be, it was his older brother. There wasn’t a week he remembered from when they were young where Brandon and their father hadn’t been at each other’s throats over something. Their relationship had been a lot more volatile than what he had with their father, and he knew he should have learned from watching it, especially when Brandon decided to major in theatre and the performing arts at Chicago University and their father turned his back on Brandon. He should have seen his own expulsion from home coming a few years later, and part of him had, but part of him wanted to believe his father would change. At least when he got kicked out he had Brandon to go to, unlike Brandon who’d had no one.
Jesse laid his hand on Brandon’s shoulder, wanting to save him from reliving his dark memories. “Hey, you promised to feed me before we go out, remember? If you don’t, I’ll be too weak from hunger to be able to bait all the hottest guys in for you.”
Jesse leaned away from his brother and patted the back of his shirt. “You’re all sweaty. What the hell were you doing before you came here?”
“What do you think I was doing? Dancing my happy little ass off in rehearsal. We gotta go to my place so I can get a shower before we go out, but we can grab something to eat first.” Brandon veered the Suzuki onto South Dearborn Street and found a place to park near his apartment building.
Jesse hopped off, shaking his fingers through his hair, and fell into stride beside his brother as they walked away from the weathered brown brick building in the direction of their usual burger place up the street. “I read a review of
Cabaret
in the paper the other day. They were saying it’s the best production of it Chicago has ever seen. They spent two paragraphs gushing over you as the Emcee.”
A humorless snort rattled from Jesse’s nose. “Yeah, only because I spent every night with you for three weeks teaching your lame ass how to sing.”
Brandon pushed him on the shoulder, making him stumble. “Like I don’t spend hours teaching you new dance moves for your silly little rock performances.”
He lifted his eyes to the Manhattan Building, one of the largest buildings in Chicago over a century ago, now dwarfed by skyscrapers and high-rise apartments. In this area with many of the structures dating back to the end of the 19
th
century, it was easy to feel the history of the city closing in around him. Normally he loved admiring the old architecture, each building had some sculpture or design that made it unique, but now he walked with his eyes focused on the sidewalk.
Brandon glanced at him, taking in his somber mien. “There’s more bothering you than just what happened with dad, isn’t there?”
He stopped outside a small burger joint and pulled open the door. Crossing the pale yellow linoleum floor, he slid into the red vinyl, duct tape patched seat of a booth near a window and pulled a menu out from behind the dented stainless steel napkin holder. He gazed around the greasy spoon decorated to local flavor with pictures of past and present players from the Chicago Bears. Helmets and jerseys from the Big Ten Conference teams, including the Purdue Boilermakers, hung on another wall. He always found it cool to see memorabilia from his favorite pro and college teams, and being on the South Side, it was nice to be in a restaurant that had more White Sox stuff displayed than the Cubs. He turned his attention to the grease stained print of the menu. A sugar packet flew over the top of it, hitting him on the forehead.
Jesse lowered the menu and met eyes a shade lighter blue than his own. People always said they looked alike, and he guessed they had some resemblances, save for the fact Brandon had three inches on him and a thicker, medium build. They shared the same jet-black hair color, though Brandon wore his a bit longer than him these days.
Jesse took a breath to speak, but stopped when their waitress walked up. After mimicking Brandon’s order of a Pepsi and a bacon mushroom Swiss burger with an extra side of fries, he focused on answering Brandon. “Things have just been messed up lately. It seems like no matter what I do, I can’t get ahead with my music.”
Jesse chuckled at Brandon’s nicknames for his keyboardist and drummer, and leaned back as their waitress returned with their drinks. His laugh slowed, and he took a deep breath, his moment of good humor slipping away with the exhale. “Yeah, Mike’s drumming hasn’t gotten any better since he joined, and Ben can’t work the synth and his keyboard playing blows. I’m trying to teach him ‘Shattered’ but it’s too complex for him. What the hell am I supposed to do? Sing, perform, play keyboard, rhythm guitar, bass, and drums? If it wasn’t for Kenny, I’d be going insane.”
His voice rose with his frustration. “I’ve sacrificed everything for this and where am I? Twenty years old and I can see my future clear as freakin’ day. I’ll be the stock manager at the goddamn bookstore for the rest of my life. I turned down college for this, to live in a shit-hole apartment and play in shit hole bars, losing more money than I’m making because I’ve got nothing but idiots dragging me down and holding me back. Third largest city in the damn country and I can’t find two people who know how to play their instruments.” He collapsed back in the booth, ending his rant when he saw their waitress coming with their food.
Brandon stared at him from the other side of the table. “Damn. You’re a lot more pissy than usual tonight.”
Jesse glared at him while Brandon drowned his burger in ketchup and squeezed a glob on the side of the plate for his fries. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
Brandon shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “It’s too late to be piss-eyeing over college now. Some other book smart, no common sense dork has your seat in pre-law 101.”
Jesse flipped the top bun off his burger. “Thanks, jackass. That was real helpful.”
Brandon lowered his burger to his plate. “What do you want me to say? When you made the decision to keep going with your music, that was the only time I ever thought you might have just a smidge of common sense, but as always, you’ve decided to prove me wrong by acting like you are now.”
“Like a spoiled little prima donna who expected to have a record deal and a Ferrari after only a year and a half of trying to get noticed. Look at how it was for me my first year trying to be an actor and for the next couple years after that. I thought I was going to be a waiter at the Hard Rock for the rest of my life because it seemed the best I could get was doing community theatre. But I kept with it. I didn’t stop. Was it hard? Hell yeah it was hard, but if it wasn’t then it wouldn’t be a dream now would it?”
Jesse swirled a fry in ketchup, playing with it more than having any intention of eating it. “Yeah, but now look at you. You’re only going to be twenty-five this July and you’re the Emcee in
Cabaret
.”
Brandon picked his burger up again. “You know what? Just forget it, you should quit. You gotta have stones if you’re going to pursue your dreams. I used to think you had ‘em with the way you can get up in front of people and sing, the stage charisma you’ve got. You’re a different person when you’ve got your music backing you. But now you can just give it up. With the grades you had and being valedictorian, I bet you could even get accepted into Purdue again, then you can work your way through school and get a nice, safe job. I really think that’s the way to go. It’s time for little Jesse Alexander to grow up and become a good boy.”
Jesse clenched his teeth, biting his anger back as much as he could. “How can you say that? My music is everything to me! Singing, playing, writing, it’s all I ever wanted to do! And I never said I was giving it up.” He lowered his eyes, his voice softened. “I just said things have been rough lately.”
Brandon folded his arms on the table. “Look, it’s normal to doubt yourself sometimes. In fact, it’s abnormal that you haven’t doubted yourself until now. But don’t take that selfdoubt so far that it makes you fear what you love.”
Jesse nodded slowly. “Your delivery was actually pretty good there.”
“Why do I even try with you!” Brandon threw a fry and hit him on the chest.
Brandon shoved the last bite of burger into his mouth. “Seriously though, everyone doubts themselves. Look at Evan Arden. You don’t think he was Mr. Confident his whole life before being discovered, do you?”
Jesse looked up at the mention of his favorite singer. When Evan Arden had entered the music world he was a force that couldn’t be stopped. His music had a rock edge, but more depth than a lot of performers. He never held back on using violins, horns, even full symphonies to give his songs a richer, deeper sound. The fast beats attracted young audiences, the depth of the music pulled in older audiences, and his voice captured everyone. He rode the charts at Number One, selling out concerts in the largest venues across the world. He learned most of what he knew about vocal control by singing along with Evan’s CDs, striving to match Evan’s voice note for note. He couldn’t imagine a vocalist that talented ever doubting himself.
“Okay, bad example,” Brandon said. “Evan can’t be touched. I Googled him the other day to see if there were any updates. Nothing. Just the same old crap on the fan-sites and forums with people gossiping about what’s happened to him. This one idiot posted Evan had died of a drug overdose in China, but I don’t believe it. You could tell when you saw him perform and in interviews he had too much pride in himself to get messed up like that.”
“But who knows what was going on in his life when he wasn’t smiling for the cameras.” Jesse sat silent for a moment. He shook his head slightly. “I don’t even want to think about him being dead. It would hurt too much if he were. His music has meant so much to me.”
“I know, but it does make you wonder. I mean, how the hell does someone so famous just vanish off the face of the earth for three and a half years?”
“That’s pretty shitty, to be gifted like that and take it for granted.” Brandon exhaled an exaggerated forlorn sigh. “But I guess I could forgive him if I ever met him.”
Jesse chuckled softly. “Yeah, I’m sure you could.” He finished his food and pushed his plate to the edge of the table. Their waitress dropped off the check, and while Brandon headed to the register, Jesse went outside. He stretched his arms over his head and gazed up at the amber sun as it made its descent from the azure April sky.
Brandon tossed his arm around Jesse’s shoulders and steered him back toward his apartment. “You’ll feel better after we get to a club and you hit the dance floor. But if you disappear on me like you did the last time, I’m bringing Kenny when we go out from now on so he can help me keep an eye on you.”
“I’m pretty sure his kicking and screaming as you dragged him through the club doors would ruin both our chances at scoring, so you should probably rethink that idea.”
After Brandon, Kenny was the second person he came out to, and though Brandon said he’d known long before, Kenny had been clueless. Maybe with him and Kenny being seventeen at the time, Kenny hadn’t been ready to hear him discuss his first experience with another guy, Aaron, whose body of energy and muscle made him fully acknowledge what he needed to be happy and satisfied in life. Kenny seemed to accept it better now, but to spare him, he didn’t divulge the full details of what happened between him and other men when he and Brandon went out, and he would never ask Kenny to join them at the clubs.
“You really need to start desensitizing him a little more,” Brandon said. “What’re you going to do if one of these days you meet a guy you really like and you want to start a relationship? Oh, sorry. I forgot who I was talking to. Guy, girl, or blow-up doll, you’ve never spent a full night with any, so what am I talking about relationships for?”
Brandon hushed his voice, concern edged his tone. “I know, but after the last time we went out and you vanished on me, I want to make sure you’re always being careful. When I didn’t know where you went, it freaked me out.”
“I don’t know why. It’s not like I ever go home with anyone. If I did, I’d have to call you and put my cell on speaker because it’d be so weird not having you at my hip.”
“And then I’ll be even more careful.”
A doubtful look crossed Brandon’s face.
Jesse ignored Brandon’s look and climbed the concrete stairs to Brandon’s building. He headed inside to the elevator, closed the rickety metal gate after Brandon entered, and hit the button for the fourth floor. The elevator creaked its way up, and they stepped out to Brandon’s apartment directly across the hall.
Brandon unlocked his door, and Jesse followed him into the studio apartment, his eyes falling on a large, serene sculpture of a meditating Buddha sitting in one corner. He walked across the living area to a small jolly Hotei statue atop the TV and rubbed the Japanese deity’s fat belly for good luck. On either side of the TV, two towers held fifty DVDs each, both full. In front of the towers sat two milk crates containing the overflow.
