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Of all the stupid, irresponsible….Tripp kicked the stool across the kitchen floor as Winter stormed out the door.
What the fuck.
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck were they going to do now?
Throwing up his hands, Tripp headed to the window overlooking the garage, intending to bellow at the Camaro when Winter pulled out, only to see the damned fool roar out on the back of his Harley.
In jeans and a t-shirt.
No coat.
Maybe boots if his twin had bothered to pull on the pair he kept down there because he was constantly leaving something behind every time he left the house. Keys, wallet, the address of where the hell they were supposed to go.
How!
There was no reason for it. No rational excuse as to why his brother could never remember to be responsible for anything. He’d fuck up a fuckin’ bagel if they left him alone with it for too long.
Okay, that’s not fair.
His inner voice was always on his twin’s side, the bastard, but it was right, as always. When it came to the music his brother worked tirelessly to get everything as close to perfect as their abilities would allow. That’s how he always put it, because Winter was a firm believer that there was always room for growth between albums. In his opinion, if your next album sounded like the last one, you’d failed to challenge yourself to create something new.
So then why couldn’t he challenge himself to remember to pick up some toilet paper the next time he went out? It wasn’t that big of an ask for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t some obscure item he’d have to hunt the cosmos for…
At least not anymore. For a few months there a person would have had better luck catching a jack-a-lope.
Okay, so he was getting off track, something Winter was fond of pointing out every time Tripp lobbed accusations and complaints at him.
But did he ever tell Winter about the things he did well? Praise him?
Or did he spend a good chunk of their time together wishing Winter could be more like him?
Hadn’t he always wished Winter could be…
Calmer,
More focused when music wasn’t concerned.
Down-to-earth.
Responsible.
In other words, just like their older sisters and their old man.
It was no secret that Winter had always focused more on the creative aspect. He’d polish the music until his fingers bled, then take a nap the moment someone started talking about which regions contained their biggest fan base or how to capitalize on whatever trend was currently spreading like wildfire through the music community.
Tripp cared about the creative side, no doubt, but he also cared about branding, marketing, merchandising, and how to get the greatest exposure they could no matter the size of the venue they’d be playing. He and McKay spent countless hours updating the band’s website, updating photo albums, and shooting improv videos in an effort to stay connected to their fans. In the meantime, Winter had only to post a stunning guitar riff or a shirtless selfie, preferably with water dripping down his chest and the fans would go crazy. At least that’s what they’d learned after the last poll results came in. Hands down, requests for half-naked Winter beat out any other request the band received each week.
Oh, and those requests…
Tripp was the one who made a list of them and dropped Winter hints until he took the 2.5 seconds to crack off a photo of himself before going off to do whatever it was he did when he wasn’t making music.
And there it was.
A snapshot of the distance that had grown between him and his twin. That image held the depiction of the Grand Canyon and the river that wound its way through it. He no longer kept up with his brother’s interests. They didn’t talk to each other the way they used to, not unless they were working on something together which…was rare these days. One song on the last album, one on the album before that, now that he thought about it. They’d co-written three songs on the one before that, though one of them he could probably only count as half, since it had been an updated revision of one of their earliest hits.
Even when they were sitting on the couch together, it was different projects they were toying with. They’d exchange them when they were ready to share, but they barely built anything together from scratch these days. When had they let the bond between them become so fractured and more importantly, was there a way to fix it?
