“What are you doing? We’re supposed to go out tonight,” my brother Elias starts.

“Nah, I’m just going to hang out here tonight.”

“And do what? There’s only so much porn to watch and so many video games you can play. What game is so good that you can miss out on some Grade A vagina and breasts?”

“Elder Scrolls: Oblivion it’s pretty fun. It’ll only take a few minutes to set you up with a character.”

“I don’t get you. You graduated college; you got a good job. A nice apartment, and you even brought me along. But you still prefer games over women. I’m cool with it if you like guys? Is that it?”

“What? Who told you that? I just want to play my game.”

Elias starts digging through my closet for some reason. He might be borrowing shoes or something for his night out. I’ve got better shoes than him, he’s got me beat in just about other category. He’s more artistic than I am. He’s got better luck in relationships, better dressed, better hair. All of that. Somehow, he made green hair cool. I tried blue in high school, it was terrible but he still has green highlights in his hair. He picks out a pair of blue and black Jordan 1s. Admittedly my favorite then goes back to the closet.

“Dude, we need to get you better clothes. It’s like you grew up, but you still dress the same as you did in high school. You’re never going to find anyone if you keep dressing in jeans and t-shirts all the time. No adult woman,” he pauses, “or man, is going for that,” he starts again.

“Can you just stop,” I try to protest as he drags me to his room across the hall.

“Blue is your color for sure, always remember that,” he pulls a blue leather jacket with black fur or something covering the inside from his closet.

“This is for you, was going to give it to you for your birthday. I know you like black so the blue jacket and the blue on your shoes makes it pop. Dressing nice as much about color theory as it is style.”

“Thanks, it’s a really nice jacket, but I don’t know what color theory is,” he loses me with the art stuff.

Elias’s room is full of completed and partially completed art. Some of it is just general stuff he does for commissions. Family portraits, wedding memories and that kind of stuff. The stuff he does for himself is more interesting. Abstract portraits, monsters and the like. Some huge paintings filled with intricate geometric shapes. You can tell he’s more passionate about those.

“Stay right here, don’t go back to your room. You’re going out tonight,” he runs into his closet. I let him have the bigger room. He’s got more clothes and he needed space for painting, he puts it to good use. I’m not sure what I’d do with all the space, but I’ve got the better view from my room.

He comes back and starts rubbing cocoa butter on my face and hands like mom would do before school. I try to pull away but he’s persistent, the same way mom was back then. I try to sneak away but he manages to wrestle me into a chair before starting to pick out my hair and lecture me. Something about dry skin and knotted hair. I just put up with it. I know I’m losing this battle tonight, in fact, I’ve already lost it. We’re going out and he insists on me trying to attract someone. I’m not so sure why he’s insistent on me finding someone to get married to. He acts way too much like a parent to be as immature as he is.

“Do we have to do all this,” I start to complain as he starts squirting a spray bottle into my hair.

“Yes, because I love you bro. You’re my best friend but you have no sense of style and you’re awkward as fuck, like all the time,” he laughs and I have to laugh because he’s honest.

“I’ll try to be less awkward; I really am working on it.”

“Yeah, don’t try. That just makes it worse. Get dressed, meet me in the living room.”

I head over to my room and get dressed. I catch a glance of myself in the mirror and I have to admit, he knows what he’s talking about. Other than the jacket, I owned all these clothes already. Some quick hair care and moisturization really changed my look. I head to the living room and catch Elias in the middle of his favorite pastime.

“C’mon, we’re going to get you to relax today,” he pats the couch cushion next to himself.

“No thank you, I’ll go get the car,” I grab my keys.

“Nope, I already called a cab. C’mon, I want to see if it helps you relax a little.”

“I just, I’ve only done that a few times. I’ll be fine without it.”

“Relax, it’s easy. Like riding a bicycle,” Elias jokes.

He continues to break apart the sticky green buds, what looks like seeds and small sticks to the side and the fluffy parts together. He sprinkles them into a little white paper and slowly rolls it together. He licks the edge and closes up the joint. He quickly runs a lighter along the edges to make sure the adhesive sticks. He places it in his mouth and lights the end while taking a big puff and exhaling slowly.

“Your turn,” he hands it to me.

“My turn for what,” I pretend he’s not extending the joint to me.

“To take a hit,” he stands and puts it in my hand.

“This is peer pressure, we’re adults.”

“No, this is brother pressure,” he moves my hand towards my mouth. “Just think of it like a straw. You got this.”

I’m not putting up much of a fight. Part of me is curious why he likes it so much. I’ve tried a few times but never gotten high, yet he seems to love the stuff. I take a big puff like he did, and nothing happens. He continues to encourage me to take hit after hit. Soon there’s a burning sensation in the back of my throat and I’m forced to cough. For some reason this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen. It isn’t long before we’ve finished the joint and our cab arrives. I’m not really feeling anything until I stand up, but I’m still not sure if I’m actually feeling anything. My body is feeling light, but heavy at the same time. In the back of the cab, I get the hiccups which makes Elias laugh even harder.

“What’s so funny,” I ask between hiccups.

“It means you were swallowing the smoke.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“No, you inhale it into your lungs. You swallowed it like food,” he chuckles again.

“You said like a straw,” I remind him of his own words.

“I’m glad you’re coming with me tonight bro,” he completely ignores the topic at hand.