Zachary shouldered into the packed house. Music blared, and his heart rate increased as he stepped into the dense fray. Bodies were crammed wall to wall, and voices shouted to be heard above the heavy bass pounding from the speakers.

Chest tight, Zee’s uneasy gaze roamed. That discomfort grew as his attention traveled over girls wearing next to nothing, red cups clutched in their hands and even redder lipstick smeared over their lips. Men hovered on the outskirts. Like predators on the hunt, ready to strike.

That apprehension only intensified when his sight landed on a guy who sat on the couch, leaning over the coffee table and cutting lines, two over-eager chicks salivating at his side.

A warning flared at the forefront of his mind. It was that spot inside that told him to just turn around and go. He wasn’t supposed to be there. This was so not his scene. At least not anymore.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever witnessed it before.

For years, he’d tagged along behind Mark, clinging to his coattails and praying one day he might get the chance to be even half as cool as his big brother. Growing up, Mark had been the greatest thing in his world.

That hadn’t changed.

But it’d finally come to the point where Zee had to make a choice. He’d known he couldn’t continue to hang with this crowd.

Sure.

Music was music.

But that didn’t mean they weren’t two entirely different worlds, and Zee couldn’t be a part of both of them and expect to reach his dreams and aspirations.

Everything came at a cost.

With a sacrifice.

But tonight that didn’t seem to matter. He pressed on, maneuvering through the crowd.

He’d promised.

And the truth was, Zee wanted to be there for him.

“Zee, there you are.”

Relief barreled through him when he saw his brother sitting at a high top table just off the kitchen. A cigarette hung from between his lips, and one hand was waving Zee over.

He rushed that direction.

Mark slung his arm around his shoulder and stubbed out his cigarette in an ashtray. “About time, asshole. Thought you weren’t gonna show.”

A smile pulled at Zee’s mouth. “Told you I’d be here.”

Mark squeezed him, jostling him at his side. “Then I really shouldn’t have had any doubts, should I?”

With the hand not hanging around Zee’s shoulder, Mark pointed at him, voice elevated as he talked to the group of people crushed around the table. People Zee hadn’t ever seen before.

“This guy right here? My baby brother? Best dude in the world. Can count on him for absolutely anything.”

Affection pressed against Zee’s ribs. It was that same feeling of belonging that engulfed him whenever he was around his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zee said, grinning at his brother who was always playing him up. Making Zee a bigger deal than he actually was.

Mark shook his head, his voice too eager, his pupils nearly obliterating the brown of his eyes. “Seriously, man. You’re the fucking best. Don’t know what the hell I’d do without you.”

He looked back at his friends. “Goddamned brilliant, too. This asshole?”

Mark was back to jabbing at him again. “Got accepted into some kind of genius school. Kid’s a prodigy. Can play a piano like none other. Sits down and composes a song like he’s been working on it for years. Has been doing it since he was about three. It’s like some kind of Beethoven shit. Next to him, I look like a pathetic hack.”

Mark smiled at him. Too wide and reckless. Zee knew he was fucked up. High on something. He didn’t know what, but it seemed like lately he always was.

Zee hated it. Worried about him nonstop. It was better when he was around. When he could keep tabs on his brother and make sure he wasn’t getting himself in too deep. Guilt grew in his chest, and there he was again, wondering if it was worth it, stepping out of the world he understood and into one where he wasn’t sure he would ever quite fit.

Remnants of the song he’d been working on churned in his mind and twitched like an unfed hunger in his fingers.

He had to believe making that choice was right.

But right then, neither of those things seemed to matter.

The only thing that mattered was that Mark’s pride in him was real. Almost as real as the pride Zee felt for his brother. “Stop it, man,” Zee told him. “What I have going down in my life doesn’t mean anything tonight. We’re here to celebrate you.”

Zee tightened his hold on Mark’s shoulder, his voice low as he muttered it toward his brother’s ear. “You guys made it. You did it. Nabbed yourselves a label. That’s legit. I’m so fucking proud of you…don’t think you have any clue how proud I am.”

He wanted to tell him to guard it. Protect it. To revel in it, but also to make sure he didn’t let it slowly kill him, either.

Because everything good also had a flip side.

An underbelly.

And Zee couldn’t stand watching Mark waste away in it.

But he didn’t say anything, and instead kept it to himself. He didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Not too bad, right? Now it’s gonna be you watching me on the big stage. No more of that dive shit.” Mark squeezed him again. “Gonna take care of you, man. Always. We’ve got this.”

Zee held tight to his brother. His best friend. The guy he’d always wished he could be.

“We’ve got this.”

Mark grinned as he rocked back, arm still slung around Zee’s shoulders as he jabbed his finger at him again, voice lifted too loud. “Someone get this kid a shot and someone to fuck.”

“Shit…Mark…come on,” Zee muttered, wanting to throttle his brother for being so damned crass all the time. But he guessed he really didn’t mind when he tossed back the shot glass that swirled with shimmery black liquid. He minded it even less when a chick wound her way over to him and slithered up to his side.

No.

He was sure he didn’t really mind it at all.