Sometimes you wonder if he even remembers you exist. You're not really one to dwell on such depressing thoughts, but the notion has presented itself to you on occasion, usually in the middle of the night when you can't sleep. Your mind just drifts from thought to thought and some of them can be slightly more serious than others.
One minute you're contemplating your next robotic design and the next you're wondering where your bro is. Did he even ever come home? When's the last time you saw him? It's probably been at least three days.
When you were younger you used to pull the most ridiculous stunts in the hopes that he would scold you, or pay any attention at all, really. You would run away a lot. You'd never go far, just down the road to the park where you'd hide under the slide and wait.
You would sit there for hours, facing your apartment building, in the hopes of seeing your bro run out of it frantically, shouting your name. Hell, you'd settle for him strolling out of the building and whispering your name. Anything.
But it never happened. Eventually you'd get tired of crouching in the dirt and you'd go back home. You'd make a big show of coming in the door so if he was nearby he'd at least know you left.
He never was. Usually when you walked by his room on the way back to yours, you'd peek in and he would be sitting on his bed, staring at the wall.
Once you got older, you progressed into stealing his shit.
You figure once he notices that his stuff is going missing, he'll come to you with a pissed off look, wondering what the hell your problem is. And then maybe you can stall and dodge the question and maybe work in enough statements so that the encounter seems more like a friendly conversation between brothers.
Maybe after a while he'll ease up and you can ask him how work's been. Maybe ask where he's been. How he's feeling.
But he hasn't come looking for his shit yet.
And you've stolen a lot of it in the past few years.
He's probably too rich and busy to care about it. To care about you.
You wonder why he even chose to raise you when he clearly doesn't want to. Sometimes you wish he had just sent you to an orphanage or something. You know you should be grateful for the life you have, because so many others have it so much worse, but it's hard.
So you try not to dwell on it much. Except in the middle of the night when you lose control of your thoughts. And your mind is just so fucking determined to make you upset, to see you cry. But you refuse to do that. No matter what, Striders don't cry.
So during the day, you focus on building more robots and pestering your friends. Sometimes when you hear your bro leave without saying goodbye or acknowledging your existence at all, you go and sit in the shower for a while.
Being surrounded by the burning water makes you feel better, mostly because, if you do happen to let out a tear or two, you'd never know it.