Page 23 of The Roadie
Brett watched the two boys head toward the stairs that led to the second floor. Mason rested a hand across Lucas’ shoulder as they strolled through the bus, just like an older brother would do to his younger sibling. Although there was a drastic age difference in the two, they somehow seemed to communicate on the same level. Their love of music obviously breached the age gap.
“Hi, boys.” Kira ruffled Lucas’ hair as she passed the duo. “Where are you going? Sit with me and Brett. We can watch TV.”
“I have to work on a song,” Lucas explained.
“Oh.” She tried to sound serious but smiled as she made eye contact with Mason. “You boys better get to work then.”
“Maybe later, Aunt Kira,” Mason replied, as the two boys disappeared up the stairs.
“You’re out here by yourself?” Kira asked, sitting next to Brett.
“Yeah. It’s OK. I was talking to Mason. He’s a great kid.”
“He is,” she said, affection coating her voice like honey. “My sister is so lucky to have him.”
“And then that little guy came running into the room like his pants were on fire.” Brett chuckled at the memory. “Turns out, he just wanted to play Mason a song on his guitar.”
“Let me guess. Metallica?”
“Yeah. They seem really close, even though there’s such a big age difference.”
“I know. Right? It’s the music,” Kira explained. “I feel bad that Mason is an only child. I keep telling my sister and Jimmy to give him a little brother or sister, but. . .” She raised her hands toward the ceiling. “No go, I guess. What was it like growing up with a younger brother?”
The question surprised Brett, and he had to think about it. “When I was young, it was a real pain in the ass. I’m eight years older than Grant. He was cute when he was born, I guess, but then he took up all of my parents’ time. So I was a little jealous. When I was in high school, he was in grammar school. I didn’t want him tagging along with me and my friends. He always threw a tantrum and my parents always took his side. It annoyed the hell out of me.” Brett reflected on his recount of his childhood relationship with his brother. Bothered by the way it sounded, his mouth bowed into a deep frown with the realization that he wasn’t the best older brother. “I was a meanie.”
“Aw,” she said, giving him a side hug. “That’s normal when there’s a big age gap. It’s different now, though, right? You take care of him.”
“I do. I think when he started high school, I began to look out for him. That’s when I got protective. I wanted to make sure he didn’t hang out with the wrong crowd.”
“Like you?”
“Yeah. I wasn’t exactly a model student. I partied too much and stayed out too late. My friends were musicians.” He paused to think about the parallels in their lives. “I guess it’s like you with Immortal Angel, right?”
She nodded, and her face grew animated. “Me and Audra hung out in bars every weekend. Only we were still straight A students.”
“Well, excuse me, Miss Smarty-pants. I went to college too, you know.”
“No, I didn’t. What college and what was your major?”
“UCLA.” He hesitated in disclosing his major because he never finished college. He had big plans for his future but fell in love with touring with Bulletproof. “I majored in music production, but left UCLA before I got my degree.”
“Me too!”
“You never finished college?” he asked, shocked at the revelation.
“No, silly. I graduated from Columbia. I meant that I studied music production too. I majored in business but minored in music. I always knew I wanted to be hands on in the industry. Is that what you wanted to do too?”
“Yeah. At first, I wanted to be a music producer but got caught up with the glitz and the glam of touring. I made great money. I know I’ll always have steady work with Bulletproof, but I’m not committed. I freelance, so I always have options.” He realized that it didn’t provide a great example for his brother. He always stressed how important it was for Grant to graduate college and keep his grades up, but he was the one who dropped out. Enlightened by this conversation with Kira, he scrubbed his hand over his face and scratched at his beard.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “You look upset.”
“I am. I never realized before that I was a hypocrite. I’m on my brother’s ass all the time about college, but I dropped out.”
“You’re not a hypocrite, Brett. Your life just took a different path.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
She rubbed his arm and leaned closer to him. “Don’t feel bad. You have an amazing job.”
He agreed with her statement, wholeheartedly, and nodded. “I know. I’m a roadie.”
