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Summary
He needs me, is all he would say after the phone calls in the middle of the night, the wild gestures to the side of the pub, the pop-ins at home, the studio, the nightclubs.
It was almost telepathic how he always knew where his brother was.
He’d shrug like he was indifferent, like he could take or leave him.
Sometimes, he’d frown and look to the side, debating with himself or deeply unhappy with his decision—but he’d always say, "He needs me," and move to his side.