"Hello Ola, it's Brian. I hope you get this message."
Behind the windows of the front door was an uninviting darkness. But as he had said, it was unlocked. She turned the knob and eased her way in.
"Brian?" she called up the pitch black staircase.
It played on, "I really need someone like you right about now. There is so much I want to show you. You have to see me. Things aren't normal right now–but, I have something to share."
She locked the door, and opened the blinds. Street lights poured in, giving a faint orange path up the stairs. Climbing slowly, running her hand across the cold wall; she called again.
"Upstairs," a cheerful voice called back.
Around a corner and another flight of stairs, she found light spilling down the hall. Music played, something she didn't recognize as anything but Brian's trip-hop. Reaching the top step, her round, mocha-coloured eyes ran the length of the hall. A door was ajar; someone was in the bathroom.
And on, "You might understand. I think you will."
"Hey Brian," she spoke with a deliberate friendliness, "I got your message."
"I called and nobody answered," Ola said, passing an open bedroom door.
His final words making her stomach grip itself like a nervous fist, "Please, just come. Please. I know this sounds weird, but I'm really lonely. Nobody's home--it's just me. I'll leave the front door unlocked incase you decide to show."
A television played on mute, and an oversized stereo system played at a calm level. A girl with an angry mop of brown hair laid on her stomach, scribbling in a notebook laid out on the floor. Ola's shoulders relaxed, and she ran a hand across the doorframe.
"Jen!" Ola said, passing down the hallway, "where's Brian?"
Rapping lightly on the bathroom door and getting no answer, Ola nudged open the door with a toe. "Brian?" she whispered. Peeking a head in, she found it empty.
"Jen? I was worried Brian was alone. He sounded a bit messed up from the message he left me," Ola called down the hall, closing the bathroom door. "Where is your little bro, anyways?"
Peeking in on Jen, Ola stopped and peeked on the floral-patterned bed. Jen smiled--a smudge of black lipstick on her face. Ola smirked, sitting down on the carpet. Putting a hand under Jen's chin, she faced the drawing girl. "You got something on your..."
"Brian?" Ola asked.
"I did myself up," Brian grinned, sitting upright.
"What the fuck?" Ola moaned. Taking hold of his head and pulling the boy in closer, she twisted it from side to side. "What the hell did you do to yourself?"
"Nothing! I was just having fun," Brian smiled again. His cheeks were swollen, giving him a girlish roundness. His eyes were rather skillfully drawn in with black eye-liner, and a pale foundation had been applied to his face. Shading had made the swelling look natural; and had almost covered up a large bruise which ran under the length of his jaw.
"What happened to you?"
"I got my wisdom teeth pulled yesterday," he said, standing and stretching. Wearing Jen's black silk bathrobe overtop of his jeans, Ola was thankful he hadn't fully delved into his sister's clothing.
Standing and scanning the room, Ola asked, "Have you been drinking?"
"No. I'm on t3's and IB profen."
She looked at the smaller boy, her eyes sharpened. "How many did you take?"
"Two t3's and one IB profen. There's codeine in the t3's," Brian said, collapsing onto the bed.
A smile cracked in the corner of Ola's mouth. "You'll be fine, light-weight."
Brian shrugged and smiled, basking in the light of the dim table lamp on the desk next to the bed.
"You fucking scared me to death!" she barked, rubbing her forehead. "Now what the hell are you doing in your sister's room? And what's with the make-up?"
"This room is so nice and clean. Mine's so dirty. I just wanted to look nice and feel good."
