Page 88 of The Agreement

“I’m ready, man, check it out,” I shouted in my best Hudson voice, quoting a specific scene fromAliensspecial edition. “State of the art badass art. You do not want to fuck with me.”

Bryan grinned. “Hey, Ridley, don’t worry.” He looked at Brandon. “Me and my squad of ultimate badasses will protect you. Check it out—independently targeting particle beam phalanx.”

“Vwap.” I added the sound effects. “Fry half a city with this puppy.”

Bryan picked it up again without pause. “We got tactical smart missiles, phased plasma pulse rifles, RPGs, and sonic electronic ball breakers.”

I joined in at the end, and we spoke at the same time. “We got nukes, knives, sharp sticks—”

“Knock it off, Hudson.” Deacon slapped my arm lightly.

“What’s the relevance here?” Brandon didn’t look impressed.

Deacon laughed. “If you don’t get it, there’s no reason to explain it.”

“This is totally Movie-ception.” And I was here for it. “I can be the Tony Stark to Bryan’s Peter Parker.”

Brandon raised an eyebrow. “Thatreference I get, and you arenotTony Stark.”

Ouch. “Why not?”

“You’re sexier.” Deacon to the rescue.

“Not as arrogant,” Bryan added. “Or old.”

Brandon clapped me on the arm. “Smarter.”

That made me feel better.

We left Deacon and Bryan to work and I took Brandon on a tour of the basement, and couldn’t help but beam when he told me it looked great. I didn’t put a lot of stock into most people’s opinions, but this was my big brother, no matter how old we got.

There was a teensy, tiny bit of me that wished he’d give me this kind of praise for my creative work, but I was a big boy, I could suck that up.

When we were done, I walked him outside.

“Hey, I’ve seen the videos on your channel. The new ones.” His voice was casual as we paused inside the back doorway.

I swore I stopped breathing .”Yeah?”

“They look really good. You deserve the traffic you’re getting, and more.”

I couldn’t help the smile that broke out across my face. “Thank you.”

“I have something for you,”

“Is it in the car?” I liked presents.

“No.” He reached in his pocket.

I couldn’t help myself. “It’s inappropriate for me to make a joke about pockets and presents, isn’t it? Since you’re my brother and all?”

“Don’t know when that’s ever stopped you.” He pulled out two earbud cases and handed one to me. He always carried a second set, sterilized and paired to his phone. Some people were put off by it, but I was used to it. He was a composer and this was how he liked to share music.

I slipped the buds in my ears, curious, and Brandon did the same.

Brandon played me a thirty-second or so clip that was a catchy, fast tempo, rock tune.

“I like it,” I said. “Of course I do. Is it the intro to something?”

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