Chapter Text
I have a complicated relationship with my brother. Oh who am I kidding, this family dynamic is so doomed it’s actually sad.
Hugo barely ever visited home, too busy with his ball-kicking thing. I could word it better, but I refuse to.
Even when he actively lived at home, he kind of avoided me. He was always quiet, either reading or dissociating or whatever he did. He’s never been a wild kid, he was always asking questions adults liked to hear from him. Those insightful questions that make your parent’s friends go “Oh you’re such a smart kid! You should take an IQ test!”.
I was the “opposite”. Kind of slow, energetic and eccentric.
“Why can’t you be more like Hugo?”
“Hugo is so quiet, how are you two siblings?”
“Go sit next to your brother and see if his calm can transfer to you!”
And then he got scouted, and things got even worse. With him out of the house, our parent’s full focus fell onto me. My older sister is an adult already so they weren't worried about her. Which meant I was walking on paper mache eggshells instead of regular eggshells now.
Once, and get this: He called our parents to talk to them specifically after my bedtime, thinking I was asleep, and I overheard him say he “Deeply dislikes the way his younger sister chases things that are clearly impossible for her and out of her league, and then gets all emotional when things go wrong.”
THE HECK?!
What did I ever do to him? That day I decided I’d become a carbon copy of Hugo. Talking like him, acting like him, took up his hobbies and I even gave up on my emotions. Maybe I would start being more appreciated for acting like Mr. Perfect, or everyone would realise how two Hugos isn’t what they really wanted.
That’s not what happened. No one commented on anything, they thought the good genes finally kicked in. I hated being appreciated for something that wasn’t real, for something I was faking. Why couldn’t the people around appreciate my dedication or my “Never give up!” attitude? I could only let it out in my room. Every time I would fall apart, punching and crying (even biting my pillow, I’m not proud of that, I ripped the stitches at some point) to let my anger out, I couldn’t help but hate Hugo more and more. He was the reason I was suffering. Yet I did nothing about it. Sucking it up and reverting to my state of pretend calm every time I stepped out of my room felt like surrendering, it felt like saying my tornado of emotions was never real. My feelings aren’t valid. Every time I didn’t speak up or pretended to be my brother it felt like I was accepting that no one would ever like me if I wasn’t Hugo. Calm, collected, observant, but just a tad bit more polite than he was.
I threw myself into anything that would make me an exemplary kid, a kid your parents would compare you to: extracurriculars, volunteering, after school courses, tutoring. Anything.
And then Hugo visited us. I ignored him during dinner, I only spared him a “Good for you.” or an “Is that so?”. When I was done, I washed my plate and got back to dealing with important things in my room, such as studying. I wasn’t gaining anything from my brother’s company either way.
There was a soft knock on the door, and Hugo entered my room. The space in between us felt kilometers wide even though it was just a few feet.
“I’ll make this quick.” He cleared his throat, “I’d like to invite you to meet PXG.”
“If this is it you can leave.” Nice joke you jaded freak.
“You’re not coming?”
“You wouldn’t want me to come.”
My brother went quiet.
“And do close the door on the way out.”
“I’m serious, I want to take you back to the facility with me to meet the players and stay with us for some time.”
“I refuse to be a dropout.”
“I didn’t ask you to drop out.”
“How long would I be staying there for?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Why should I accept your offer then?”
“I heard from mom and dad you’re doing better than you were before I left. I’d like to see if that’s true, but I can’t stay here for long, so if you were to live with me for say, the rest of this season plus the duration of this year’s World Cup, I’d be able to find out for myself.”
He raised his hands and started counting on his fingers.
“It’d be about five months” Are you insane?
First of all- Doing better? I’m a bunch of scattered broken shards that no one seems to notice because they’re shiny and have golden borders around the sharp edges. And he wants to take me to meet his little goal-scoring society? He can go trip over his shin guards for all I care.
I’m aware the shard stuff is edgy, but right now it’s the best way to describe it.
“I don’t gain anything from this, so no.”
“Experience.”
I stopped writing.
“What do you mean?”
“Our parents told me you’d like to be a sports analyst.”
“And?”
“Wouldn’t you like to see how those things work first-hand?”
It did sound interesting.
“I’ll consider it.”
“I need to know you’ll go, not if you’ll consider it. My flight takes off in a few hours.”
“I’ll go if it gets you out of my room.”
“Deal.”
I have a complicated relationship with my brother, because he’s the human being I’ve been directing most of my hate towards lately, and well, I’m currently dragging my luggage while following him into a high-end property near PXG’s training facility. You know, his ball-kicking club.