Your name is Dirk Strider and you have just gotten some hella rad ink. This was probably one of your best ideas, or at least it seemed that way at the time. You walk away from the parlor and begin your short trek home. You can see the apartment complex up ahead and it wasn’t long before you were stepping through the front door.
You could hear your brother in the kitchen, ordering pizza from what it sounded like. More takeout. Just great. That is practically all you two eat, well, it’s basically all you eat. He probably eats at fancy restaurants when he’s not home, which is almost always. In all honesty you hated how he was a big time Hollywood director. Sure, it was a great job and you’re happy he’s done so well, but at what cost? You’re always alone. Alone with only your thoughts and shitty hobbies you’ve grown tired of. You have tried on multiple accounts to entertain yourself with frivolous activities. One of those many activities was watching a show about ponies for the so called ironies. In all truth, the show depressed you to no end. It made your life seem even worse than it already was.
You shake your head and snap back to reality once you hear your name being called. Instead of responding, you walk right past the kitchen knowing he would see you. What you didn’t account for was his overreaction to your little tattoo. Within seconds he was in front of you, glaring you down behind dark shades. There was venom in his voice when he spoke, “what is that?”
What a redundant question. He knew what it was and was obviously just wasting your time, so you didn’t answer. He repeated the question a bit louder and, again, you refused to answer. Before you knew it he was yelling at you, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to care. You never could. You were so use to his bullshit it was sad. He was hardly home and when he was this always happened. He would find some reason to yell at you. He probably thought he was going to make you a better kid by doing this. You also always pushed it off as stress and usually payed no mind to it.
For once, he took a jab at you. Trying to break you with the coldest of words.
“God you’re so heartless!” and it worked. That had gotten to you. It broke you and you finally couldn’t keep your thoughts to yourself.
“Heartless? I’m heartless?! You’re hardly ever around! And when you are, you’re always yelling at me! You never have time for because you’re always off making these shitty as fuck movies for someone who probably doesn’t know they exist! Or, hell! Maybe this person doesn't even exist!” you clench your fists and continue, “Why do they even matter so much? Why do they have to matter more than me? I’m always alone here. I’m always alone and you don’t care. I realize that by how you only yell at me when you are here. But, I couldn’t find it my heart to care, because it was some form attention from you...” At this point you were sobbing and it was becoming hard to see through your shades, so you threw on them on the floor, turned on your heel and ran.
Your name is Dave Strider and you are the worst brother in the history of paradox space. There was no doubt about it now. He had said it all and the only thing you could do was stand there in shock. How shitty a guy can you be? Apparently shitty enough to make your lil’ bro break his cool facade and run off crying.
And then it hit you. He ran off crying and you’re just standing there like the giant idiot you are. Well. What are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to run after him? He’s your brother you have to make sure he’s alright. Stop standing there and go apologize. Tell him how much you care. Go.
But, you won’t. You can’t. You’re still trying to comprehend what just happened. You’re reanalyzing your life choices. Trying to figure things out before you make things even worse.
You run your fingers through your hair, sighing heavily. You fucked up big time and you have no idea how to fix things. But, you knew you had to. You’ve stood here far too long just thinking of your mistakes. It was time to find Dirk and attempt to fix this.
You took off, running down the stairs of the complex trying not to trip up and fall. It isn’t the time for such a joke. You’re finally out of the building, running down the streets of the city frantically searching for your brother. You had no idea where to look, nor did you have a single clue to where he would go. This was terrible. You are terrible. How could you not know a single thing about him!
You come to a halt, trying to catch your breath. “Motherfucker...” you mutter, tilting your head back to look up in thought. Something catches your eye. A figure on the top of the complex. A very familiar figure.
Eyes widen behind shades and you’re running again. Running back to your home, all the way to the top. You freeze as you reach the door to the roof. You were scared. Absolutely terrified of what awaited you behind the door. What if he jumps? It would be all your fault. But, then again, everything that’s ever happened to him was your fault. So, what’s stopping you from opening this door? What’s stopping you from being a decent older brother?
It’s you. You’re stopping yourself from facing the issue at hand. Why? Because you don’t want it to be your fault. You don’t want this to be real. Yet, it is. It is and you need to come to terms with that. You need to and now.
Be the hero Dave.
Be a good brother, Dave.
Finally, you open the door to see him standing there. He’s just standing there, farther from the edge then you had anticipated. He’s staring at the ground and you can just barely see the tears fall from his face and how his body jolts slightly with every sob. Your heart breaks at the sight and you slowly start to approach him.
He doesn’t hear you. Even as you are standing right behind him, you can tell that he doesn’t know you are there. But he will.
You grab his wrist and spin him around, pulling him close. He’s shocked. “Shoosh. I know fucked up, Dirk. I just... I’m really sorry, lil’ bro. I didn’t mean... what I said before. You don’t have to forgive me, but please, please know I care,” you wanted this to fix things, but you didn’t actually think it would.
He was quiet and you were sure he would push you away. And yet, he didn’t. He did the exact opposite and hugged you back, burying his face in your chest. All you could do was shoosh him and tell him everything would be okay and that you were sorry.
The two of you stood there for who knows how long. It was mostly silent, but towards the end you felt like there was something you need to say. So you do.
“Hey, I want you to know something,” you pull back slightly and look down at him. “I love you, Dirk. Truly I do.”
A small smile graced his facade and he hugged you tightly, “I love you too, Bro.”