Page 3 of Organized Chaos
Milo Sinclair might be my oldest friend and business partner, but he dubbed me a bad influence on Mia. If he weren’t in a jam, I wouldn’t even be here tonight as I constantly undermined his authority over Mia.
It was just so damn difficult to bite my tongue. Milo was a pseudo guardian to both of his younger siblings, but his expectations of them were insurmountable. Despite her paralyzing stage fright, he pushed Mia into this competition, only to be pulled away due to an emergency.
Mia’s other brother, Reid, was caught purchasing alcohol with a fake ID and Milo had to deal with the fallout.
The auditorium roared with applause as they called Mia’s name, further rattling her nerves. She shivered at the peril, and I desperately wanted to reassure her that she had the choice to walk away. But it wasn’t my call to make... or was it?
“Do you think Milo will be mad if I don’t read the story?” Mia asked in a small voice.
Yes. “Of course not.”
“Really?”
My heart lurched at her saddened face, soul itching to console her. She was so fucking tiny, vulnerable, like a lamb to the slaughter. And those helpless, blue eyes—it was the ultimate guilt trip.
For God’s sake, she was just a child, maybe ten or eleven years old, twelve at most.As the youngest Sinclair, Mia’s needs were often sidelined by her family. She reminded me of a younger version of myself, a pang of camaraderie sparking at the bitter feelings I used to harbor for being an afterthought.
“Mia, it’s your call. If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
Mia wrung her wrists, twisting them in a continuous motion. “Milo’s going to be pissed,” she whispered unsurely.
“Forget about Milo. This is about you.” Blue eyes looked up doubtfully as if the idea was unfathomable. “I think you might regret it if you don’t go out there, but this is your choice. If you don’t want to do it, we can leave.”
Mia hesitated, contemplating the fallout with her brother.
I patiently awaited her response, but Mia seemed unable to pull the trigger. Closing my eyes, I provided an alternate solution. “Mia, if you like, we can tell them you aren’t feeling well enough to read, and I can be your proxy.”
“Proxy?”
“Your substitute. I’ll read the story for you.”
Her shoulders sagged. “They won’t let us. We are supposed to read it ourselves so they can score our presentation as well as writing skills.”
I grinned, tapping her nose. “You leave that to me, little Bunny.”
She finally perked up, making my heart tug in my ribcage.I seized Mia’s notebook and led the way from backstage to the platform with a spotlight and mic stand in the middle. A large auditorium filled with parents and teachers awaited her arrival, as did the television crew. The audience frowned at my on-stage presence while the cameramen wore bewildered looks as I took the mic.
“Hi everyone. My name is Brandon Cooper. I’m here to introduce an exceptional young lady, Mia Sinclair.” I smiled, pointing at her.“Ms. Sinclair was extremely excited to share her story with you. Unfortunately, she came down with a case of tonsillitis, so I’ll be reading this piece of art on her behalf.”
Without missing a beat, I opened her notebook and proceeded.Half the struggle with breaking the rules was in the way you carried yourself. No one objected to the blatant disregard of policies if you acted confidently.
I had no idea of the words on the page, simply stampeding over and reading in an animated tone. It forced a giggle out of Mia, her nerves subsiding, as she stood with her back to the bewildered audience.
Our inspirational story of facing your fears wouldn’t win Mia the competition. The core requirement was to present the story, not hire a grown man to make looney tune voices.However, something better transpired. By the time I finished, Mia was all but hackling on stage.
She had never graced a stage before without bursting into tears.
Tonight, Mia cured her intense fear of a live audience. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree as the realization dawned on her. Glossy eyes stared at me like I was some sort of savior. Her hero.
I couldn’t recall the last time anyone regarded me as such.Who would have thought that Brandon Cooper, of all people, could be anyone’s hero?
Luckily, I didn’t have to worry about setting any expectations with that title, as the relish was short-lived.
“Brandon!” Milo strode purposefully through the lobby, shooting daggers at me with his eyes. All three Sinclairs had hot tempers. Milo was normally level-headed, but fury lurked behind his cold expression tonight.
I frowned. “Hey, man. What’s going on—"
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked stoically without any emotion.
