Silas

I hate coming down to the city. I hate driving in the city even more. Scott’s apartment building is easy to find. I have to park more than seven blocks away, but I don’t care. I’m handling this once and for all. The temperature jumped back up earlier in the day and it's even hotter in Manhattan long after sunset. Sweat’s dripping down my back by the time I’m standing outside Scott’s place. I find our last name on the button next to PH. The building is kind of shitty on the outside, but at least he has the best apartment in the place. I press the button and nothing. I press it again. He might not be home. It’s not a problem though. I’ll find him and I can wait. I pull out my cell phone and hit his number. I’m sure he’s going to let me go to voicemail, but he answers.

“Jesus, what, Si? What do you want?”

“Where are you right now?

“In my apartment. Why?”

“I’m downstairs. Let me in.”

“What the fuck? Why are you downstairs?”

“Because I came here to talk to you, face to face. Let me in or I’ll start buzzing your neighbors. It’s fucking hot out here.”

“Fine.” The call ends and a moment later, the door buzzes open. The outside of the building is deceiving. The inside is completely remodeled. I cross the empty lobby, pass the unattended front desk, and take the elevator to the top floor. Scott has the top floor to himself. The elevator opens to a small landing. The door to his place is wide open. I walk inside, into his open kitchen living room area, but I don’t see him anywhere.

“Scott.”

“Hold on.” He comes walking into the kitchen, pulling a Harvard Law t-shirt over his head. I watch him as he maneuvers to the other side of the kitchen, putting some distance and the kitchen island between us. He leans on the countertop, bracing his palms on the edge. He won’t look at me. That doesn’t hide the massive bruise going down the side of his face.

“That was you buzzing?” he asks.

“Yes. You don't even check to see who's downstairs?”

“No one just shows up at my place. I figured someone buzzed the wrong apartment. So you're here. Drove all the way down to punch me in the face again?”

“I might.”

“Great.” He slaps the counter, then walks over to a mini bar near the window. I watch him as he grabs a glass and pulls the top off a decanter of Scotch. Our dad has always taken his whisky seriously. Something about this whole show is a different kind of douchey. “You want a drink?” he asks.

“No. I don’t.”

“Fine. I’ll help myself while you read me the riot act.”

“This place suits you,” I tell him. Cold and dark. The whole setup is dark wood and even darker marble. I’m sure Scott thinks it fits his too cool, too smooth style. It feels dark and weird,  impressive at first and ultimately over the top, in the most extreme way. Classic Scott. I wait until he downs half of his Scotch.

“Mom wants us to work things out,” I tell him.

“So let’s work things out. You’re the one holding the grudge.”

“You almost fucked up my whole life. Sorry if I didn’t take your fake ass apology seriously.”

“What do you want from me, Silas? My time machine is in the shop. I can’t change what happened. I fucked up. Okay? I fucked up really bad. I’m sorry. But I didn’t ruin your life. We both turned out fine. It’s water under the fucking bridge. Just move on.”

“When did you become such an asshole?”

He rolls his eyes and starts walking out of the kitchen area. I follow him. He stops walking and looks at me. We’re the same height, but he looks so small these days. I realize then just how long it’s been since I’ve really looked at him, since we’ve really been around each other. We have both moved on, we’ve both changed in a lot of ways. I think Scott forgot that I’m the one person who truly knows him. He can’t fake anything around me.

“Tell me. You used to be nice. You used to be a good person. When did you become this guy? Was it the day you got to school? Was there some sort of secret society you joined that had ‘be a complete piece of shit to everyone around you’ as one of their founding tenets? What the fuck happened to you?”

“I don’t fucking know, Si. But I get it. I’m a dick. We both know that. Mom and Dad know that. You’re the sweet, good son and I’m the dick. You can’t get it right with every kid, I guess. But what the fuck does it matter? You got the farm. It’s doing well. Dad told me it’s doing better than when he was running it. You have friends, both human and of the animal variety, who would clearly do anything for you. You fucking won. So why don’t we get to what you really came here to talk to me about.”

“I told—”

“Bullshit. You came here to talk to me about Liz.”

“No. I came here to talk about that moment when your shitty prep school friends became more important to you than me.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re a grown fucking man and this is what you drove two hours to talk to me about? I was sick of you, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I made friends that weren’t you, Si. I made friends who knew how to talk to girls. I made friends who didn’t have to check in with me every five seconds just to see how they were feeling. I made friends who knew nothing about you and weren’t asking me questions about why we were so different. For the first time, I was just Scott. I wasn’t Scott and Silas. I wasn’t the McInroy boys or the McInroy twins. I was just myself. I was sick of being your other fucking half. And I’m sorry if that makes me a dick, but I don’t miss that about us at all.”

Sometimes you know the truth of a thing, deep inside. You just hope that you could be wrong. You hope that if you can find it somewhere in your heart to at least try to forgive someone, that they are capable of dredging up even the tiniest bit of humanity. Sometimes you’re wrong. I feel my palms itching, my fist starting to clench. I have to go. I have to get out of here. Without a word, I head for the door. I fucked up coming here.

“Silas, wait. Wait!” I stop with my hand on the door handle. I don’t turn around. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did,” I say over my shoulder. I turn back around. “You definitely meant it. I had a feeling that you hated me, but it’s nice to hear you say it out loud. Clears a lot of things up.”

He sighs and throws up his hands. This is why I can’t stand talking to Scott. He says or does something shitty and if you do anything that isn’t kissing his ass and calling it Christmas, you’re overreacting. I can’t change that. I can’t change him. I can protect myself from him and I can look out for people I care about.

“I don’t hate you! I just—”

“Hated having me for a brother. Well you don’t have to worry anymore. Now that I really know where we stand, you’ll never have to worry about me again. And since you mentioned it, stay away from Liz,” I say.

His head jerks back. He looks at me for a second before he lets out that annoying ass, condescending laugh that already got him punched once today. “You can’t tell me to stay away from her. Have you met Liz? She’s gonna see whoever the fuck she wants.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t deserve to be anywhere near her.”

“Yeah, ’cause I’m such a shitty friend to her.”

“’Cause you lied to her! Fuck. Your intentions, Scott. You can’t lie to people and act like you’re doing them a favor.”

He stares at me for a moment and I know I should leave then. Whatever comes out of his mouth next is going to make me want to throw him right through his fancy penthouse windows. “She dumped you, didn’t she? Holy shit. That’s why you came all the way down here. She dumped you and you know she knows how I feel about her and you’re afraid I’m going to make my move. I haven’t seen you in years, but getting your heart ripped out would make you jump behind the wheel. Sucks, don’t it, buddy?”

I shake my head, knowing I shouldn’t go low. This is Scott, though, and clearly low is the only thing he understands.

“I stepped back and yes, she let me. Does it suck? Fuck yes it does, but I trust Liz to make the best decisions for herself. I know how she feels about you, bro. She doesn’t fucking like you. Not that way. And after you kicked my fucking dog, I’d be surprised if she ever wants to talk to you again. I came down here because you’re still my brother, you piece of shit. I thought if we could just sit down and talk—” I stop myself. I’m talking to a sociopath. Nothing I’m saying is sinking in. “I’m gonna go.”

“She slapped me in the car.”

“She what?”

“I told her she was easy for sleeping with you and she slapped me. Caught me right here.” He points right to the spot where I punched him.

“Does insulting women actually work for you?”

“Sometimes. You’d be surprised.”

“She’s too good for you is all I’m saying, and as you know she’s going through a lot right now. So do her a favor and leave her alone.”

“All I’ve been doing for her is favors. How about you let me handle my relationship with my friend?”

“You don’t know what friendship is, Scott. Have you checked on her today? I bet you just stood there and acted like you didn’t even know her when they booted her out of the office.”

“I wasn’t there,” he says.

“You mean at the office?”

“Yeah at the office. I decided it was best to skip showing up with her and a massive black eye. There were no friendship favors I could do to stop her from getting fired. She dug her own grave there. Yeah, Dorrit really fucked with her, but sending that email was just stupid.” It clicks then. Scott doesn’t know about the sex tape. He doesn’t know just how set Dorrit is on ruining her. He doesn’t understand how much she’s hurting.

There’s more I want to say. There’s so much more on my mind. It won’t matter though. I’d have to play Scott’s game and by Scott’s rules, and Scott’s rules involve me changing who I am and saying and doing things I know I would never do. I’ve been pissed at him for so long, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my brother and I still love him. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m done pretending.

“Whatever.” I walk over to his front door and pull it open. “I mean it. Stay away from her. And stay away from me too.”

He calls after me again as I pulled the door shut behind me, but I mean it this time. I’m done.