(Eddy's POV)

My head snapped forward, jolting me awake from drowsiness. I took a deep breath in and yawned for a few seconds, letting out an obnoxious groan. I rubbed my eyes, feeling how heavy they felt wondering if I could keep myself awake any longer. The car's radio was cutting in and out of static, turning into a white noise that was lulling me to sleep. I looked out towards the windshield and saw the dozens of cars slowly coming to a halt to let an 18 wheeler swap lanes. The back of the truck read "Rain City Freightlines", wrapped around a logo of the city of Seattle. Looking past the truck I could see the endless stretch of highway we still have to cover—miles of asphalt disappearing into the distant horizon. I switched my focus onto the rear-view mirror; my dad's grumpy eyes fixated on the road with an exhausted face framed by receding, black hair peppered with gray. His wide, boxy frame stretched across the seat which barely gave him enough room, his giant calloused hands gripping the wheel with a hint of underlying anger, as if just by saying his name could set him off. With his old blue collared shirt and black casual business pants, you can tell he doesn't know the difference between going out or going to work. Years of working at Peach Creek Autos made him this way, blending his life with work, not being able to differentiate which is which. With my dad reaching his late 50s, he realizes this will be a dead end job. No other company would want to hire him at his age, on top of asking for a higher salary so he's forced to come in every morning to work away his life. He constantly complains about wishing he had gone to school so he wouldn't live his life full of regret. He pushes his failed dreams onto me, hoping that I go to school and get a good job. Though it doesn't help that I'm currently flunking school and probably don't want to go to college. He always ends up arguing with my mom after work about one of these complaints, or sometimes all of them. She's been done with my dad's bullshit for years now. They constantly fight about how my dad barely makes rent with a "high maintenance" wife who doesn't want to work anymore. My mom argues back about how she deserves more and should have divorced my dad years ago. The constant threats of divorce were always brought up ever since I was in middle school, though I realize how empty those threats are now. No matter how long they yell at each other for, they always end up waking next to each other the next morning. My mom has always been toxic and manipulative to my dad, though always seemed to try to spoil me with whatever love she had at the end of the day. My dad thinks the reason I'm flunking and have no direction in life is cause of the way my mom spoiled me while growing up. He said she was the reason my brother moved away and tried to reconcile that guilt by spoiling me. The countless nights I used to eavesdrop on their arguing by the staircase accrued a lot of insecurities while growing up, thinking I was the reason for their stress and problems. My name was always brought up one way or another and I used to stay up some nights thinking what I did wrong, or how I could make their lives easier. Maybe running away like my brother I thought. Maybe that was the reason why he moved away when he got the chance, because he thought he was burdening them. Maybe I should—

"Oh look Eddy sweetheart, you can see Seattle" my mom said. My train of thought suddenly stopped as I took in the view of the city against the skyline. Even though we were still far away, I could make out the various skyscrapers and busy highways that marked the heart of the city. Various onramps and billboards signaled which exits to take to reach Seattle, but sadly that wasn't our stop. I've been to Seattle a couple of times and loved every time. I went there once with my dad to see the Seattle Krakens play when they were first brought into the NHL, given that he is a huge hockey fan. It was one of the few times that he didn't complain about paying or the long ride there. The other times we visited was mostly just for family, like today. Though we weren't really going into Seattle per say, we were going to a small city just outside of Seattle called Everett, where my brother lived. Whenever I thought about my brother I always remembered the trip my friends and I made hoping that he would save us from the rest of the gang biting our heads off. Of course I knew I'd be wrong. I should have never given him the benefit of the doubt, deep down I knew he would just embarrass me in front of everybody but I thought he would have grown past his immaturity. Though in a way I'm glad what happened, happened. Without that day happening, I'm sure Double D, Ed and I wouldn't have been friends with the rest of the cul-de-sac. We would have jumped back into the never ending cycle of scamming, and getting beat up. I was tired of living that way for so long, I wanted them to like me. I wanted to feel wanted, feel included in things and to never be a last thought. Of course I would never take Double D's and Ed's friendship for granted. I don't think my head would be in the right place without them; they showed me what true friendship looks like and I would never to anything do hurt or abandon them.

I tried not to think too much about my brother, I have nothing but bad memories of him. It depressed me, I really did look up to him when I was younger, always wanting to be like him. He made himself look so independent in the midst of our parents toxic, failing marriage. He never asked our parents for anything since our dad was really tight with money, and our mom was selfish and spent it all on herself. He barely had any resources to live off of, he was lucky enough that he had a bed to sleep in. That's why he turned to scamming. I can't remember how old I was when I first found out what he was doing around Peach Creek, but as soon as he started to come back home with loads of games, toys, and food I got curious. He made me promise to not tell mom and dad if he were to tell me, which I quickly agreed to. He then explained his entire agenda to scamming, showing me dozens he's done already and the dozens he has planned. Back then, I thought he was some sort of genius. The things he came up with, with the money he made, made him look like he could have outearned my dad. He was so good selling to people, he could have made people believe that the sky was green. He took such care and execution in his scams, in my eyes he made it an art. The child version of me thought he was the coolest brother anyone could have, he's the reason why I wanted to be a scammer. The only difference between me and him, is he always succeeded and my scams always failed. Slowly I realized I wasn't anything like my brother and I asked him for help or maybe I could hang out with him to learn, but every time that I would ask he would cuss me out and push me away. From a very young age I knew that he hated my guts, but never knew why. I was constantly confused about what was wrong with me, always changing my personality to see which pissed him off the least. But no matter what I changed about myself, he'd still hate me. A day didn't go by where he didn't punch me with malice, yell at me with hatred or curse my name. Even though he despised me, I still forgave him. I tried so hard to form a bond with him, hoping that I could spark something between us. I didn't understand why he was so mad all the time, but I figured it was something to do with my parents. Now recalling, there was many instances of my parents lashing out at my brother for no reason. Whenever the two of them fought, they seemed to always drag my brother's name in it. It could have been one of their faults but somehow, they would drag him into the argument and pin the blame all on him. My parents would always make my brother the reason why they are falling apart, the reason they drink and forget, the reason why they've turned rotten. Not only that, but they would hit him, emotional abuse him, and neglect him. There's a lot of reasons why my brother retaliated against my parents so much. He was a bad egg, but he wasn't born that way. When he was about 18, he finally had enough. I will always remember that day clearly; I came home after a failed scam with my friends but as soon as I tried to open the door to my house, my brother stormed out, pushing me onto the lawn. I sat on the ground as I watched him stomp to his car, cussing out my parents. My dad stepped out and followed him to his car, yelling back at him telling he was lazy piece of shit that'll go nowhere in life. My brother would just retaliate by naming every curse word he could think of, hoping that one of them would stick inside my dad's head forever. My mom didn't fall too behind from my dad, overlapping her yelling with a glass of wine in her hand. She seemed the most angriest-drunk and screaming at the top of her lungs waving her hand in every direction spilling her cheap wine. My brother had enough of their bullshit and tuned them out, getting inside his car and slamming the door in front of their faces. While he seemed done with them, my parents were barely getting started. My mom and dad pounded on his window, telling him to get out as if they were going to beat him up. They threatened him, they hit his car-my mom even dumped her wine on his car. Within this storm my brother just sat in the driver's seat with his eyes closed, gripping the wheel as hard as he could. I could tell he tried to fight back his tears as much as he could, but he eventually opened his teary eyes and looked straight at me. I was still staring at him, feeling tears build within my eyes as well. He looked at me for a while as if he had something to say, but bit his tongue and looked down at the ignition to turn on his car. As his engine roared, my parents backed off knowing he had no sense of restraint. He backed out of the drive way at a dangerous speed, turned around and sped out of the cul-de-sac. As he drove away, my mom tried to throw her glass at his car but missed, leaving the shards scattered on the asphalt.

I was about 9 years old, going on 10 at that time. The age gap between us was about 8 years, he was lucky he was old enough to decide to move out on his own. I knew he was waiting until he was 18 to make the move, it was just a question of when was enough, enough? After he moved out on his own, we didn't know where he went. He didn't talk to us for a whole year until he called up my old man, saying "Just in case you care, I'm still alive." My dad was actually happy he heard his voice, and so was my mom but she quickly changed her mood into that scolding mother he hated. Only this time my brother didn't argue back, he listened to her vent, and apologized. My mom didn't apologize for what she'd done but told him if he ever wanted to come back he could. My brother declined, stating that he was jumping between jobs until he found a good one down in Everett, near Seattle helping run an amusement park called Mondo A-Go Go. I heard of that place before, we passed by the ads on the way to Seattle but we never went. My parents instantly knew what place he was talking about, giving a seething look while biting their tongue on their opinions and just hoped he was doing well for himself. While on the phone he asked about me, and my parents told me to talk to him. I only spoke with him for a couple of minutes, exchanging information about our lives that was worth mentioning. We ended the call with him telling me "I'll see ya soon, Pipsqueak." Our conversation felt unfinished, but I didn't want to pry anything out of him. I felt too scared to, so I just left it at that and continued on with my life.

Things were okay after that, he would send me postcards and little pranks in the mail where I thought was just brotherly play, but after seeing him at Mondo A-Go Go, it looks like he was holding years of grudges against me. Like I mentioned before, he didn't talk to us for months after that day. He usually checks in with my parents a couple times a month, but for a while he was quiet. I didn't know why but at that time, I didn't care. I did not care about him nor wanted to hear or see him after what he had done to me in front of everyone. I was so pissed, that me, his brother, could just be some sort of outlet of his pent up anger, with no consideration of how I felt. On that day, I hope he would rot in that trailer. But after he broke his silence, he wanted to call me. We spoke for over an hour, with him apologizing; tears cracking his voice while begging for sympathy. I never heard him cry before, and hearing him cry broke me a little inside. My sensitive side broke out while I cried with him. I accepted his apology, telling him that I was sorry as well. It was…a somewhat touching moment for me. I don't like to be sensitive but when it came to my brother it all just comes out naturally. I don't know why I had a soft spot for him, maybe because I was worried that even my own blood couldn't like me. Whatever the case is, I was glad we put it behind us. A few years pass by and everything was normal as they could be, except my parents of course. This year they decided to actually visit my brother for his 24th birthday and this was a first. They didn't visit him at all on their own interest, only just called. My brother did the same though, he never bothered to come back to Peach Creek but he states he basically "runs" the place now so he doesn't get a lot of free time. I don't blame either of them, I know my brother has a lot of resentment towards my parents still, which caught me by surprise when he was letting them come down to see him. I thought that maybe he wants to bury the hatchet, knowing that it was a waste staying mad at them forever. I didn't really care for what his reasons were, I was just kind of excited but nervous to see him. I just hoped he didn't hold any more grudges against me, and that we can start anew.

Once again my train of thought was broken again, this time by my dad getting brake checked as we tried to exit off of the freeway.

"Fucking asshole!" my dad yelled, waving his right arm in the air out of despair. From what I could tell, a car tried to exit at the very last minute almost causing an accident while at it. They swerved right in front of us but had to brake as hard as they could to not crash the car that was in front of them. This was the perfect time for my dad to go ballistic, it didn't take much to set him off and I can already tell he was going to drive up next to them and give them an earful. As the lanes opened up, he swerved to the other lane to catch up to the car that cut us off and lowered his window.

"Hey! Fuckhead! Do you drive with both hands up your ass!?" my dad yelled. The guy who looked like was about his age, lowered his window to flip him off. Great I thought, he wasn't going to let this guy off easy.

"Benny, please can we just go we're almost there." pleaded my mom.

My father snapped his head to my mom, with an angered look. "Jennifer please-quiet, let me handle this prick." He turned away to continue to cuss out the guy in ways you never heard of before. When it came to cussing, my dad seemed to invent new words and phrases which were…creative—a little impressive if you ask me but that only shows that he spends most of his time being angry. My mom scoffed and crossed her arms, looking out the window waiting for the light to turn green. I just slumped into the back of the seat hoping that the guy wouldn't see me. Usually when he does this, they always seem to point me out and say some shit about me or our family, and I didn't feel like getting attacked for no reason today. Once the light turned green, my dad give a final "fuck you" to the driver and sped off to the right. I looked back to see if the guy would follow us, which he didn't. I let out a sigh, thanking that we weren't going to be killed today.

"I swear Benny, you need to control yourself you're going to get a heart attack one of these days." my mom scolded.

My dad turned to her to give her a dirty look. "You're the only person around here that'll give me a heart attack. Always stressing me out about shit you don't need to worry about-I'm the only one around here who will stick their neck out for this family. Let that record be shown."

She scoffed, stuttering a little before speaking "Yo—you really think that starting fights with random strangers is stickin' your neck out? Last time we were followed and the guy threatened us with his metal bat! The only thing that'll be 'stickin' out' is your fuckin' bones if you don't stop picking fights with the wrong people."

"Oh please, shut up! What the fuck do you know anyways? You don't even defend nobody, you would rather let them walk all over you and your precious son before you stand up for us." My dad's words started to become a blur as I started to tune them out. From here until we get to my brother's place, it'll just be a whole bunch of arguing. I just took out my phone and scrolled through my social media until we got there, feeling restless to get out of this car.

After about another 40 minutes of them arguing, we started to notice the attraction signs leading to Mondo A-Go Go. Seeing the worn out, rusted signs gave me flashbacks of me, Double D and monobrow finding them for the first time, thinking we were saved. The entire journey here was an emotional roller coaster. We went through a lot of shit where I thought was the end of the road for us; for our relationship and lives. We never stepped outside of Peach Creek by ourselves before, doing so made me realize how big this world could be, and how fast we can get lost in it. The bus ride home from that made me want to stay in our cozy, neighborhood forever. But as we grew older, life taught you that you can't stay in the same place forever.

Reminiscing the past seemed to make time go quicker, and before I knew it, we were entering the parking lot.

This time it didn't seem to be closed; there were a good number of cars parked and the rides were lit up in the background, with joyous screams echoing against the car window. I stared out the window, watching the giant Ferris wheel slowly rotate, filled with people laughing and hoping their cart would stop at the top. The wheel soon disappeared from view as we drove around the corner to reach the employee parking where our brother told us to park. This way, we didn't have to pay admission and it was a lot closer to his trailer. It was a fairly small lot, surrounded by old metal gates covered with a dirty, tattered blue tarp. My dad found an empty spot and slowly reversed back into it, finally cutting off the engine. He let out a big sigh of relief, knowing that the car ride was over. My mom dropped the visor to look at herself in the mirror, retrieving her purse. With a quick adjustment of her hair and necklace, she observed herself for a moment, as if hyping herself up, before exhaling and stepping out of the car. My dad opened his car door, taking a deep breath and gathering the energy to exit the seat, grunting as he exited. He pulled the latch to open the car's trunk, taking out a bag that had my brothers gift in it. Lazily, I was the last to leave the car, stepping out to feel the bumpy asphalt beneath my feet. An instant, cool breeze hit my face carrying the aroma of salt and ocean. I looked out past the park to see an endless sea hugging the coast of a wooden pier walkway that seemed to stretched along the coast. Mondo A-Go Go was really close to the ocean which is the theme for the entire park. It's known for being just a short walk to reach the piers and beaches, making it a special place to hit all three spots in one day. You could faintly hear the waves crashing against the coast, softly roaring against the sounds of people screaming and laughing inside the park. As the sun began to set over the horizon, turning the sky into a gradient of blue to yellow, I found myself lost in the view. One thing I learned about myself from visiting Seattle is loving these types of sunsets. We weren't close to any beaches, even though we had some lakes near Peach Creek, none of them compare to the sight of this.

"Eddy dear, let's go it's startin' to get cold." My mom said. I looked back at her as she starts to cover herself with a black coat, covering her gaudy, low cut blouse and black pressed pants.

"Yeah I'm comin'" I responded.

My dad walked up to the rusted gate which looked like It was only locked by a latch that you could easily move. With a lift of the latch, the gate creaking as it opened wide. As we walked through we saw various trailers scattered throughout the area, some being mobile offices and some for storage. Looking past the mobile offices my gaze landed on that old, blue whale trailer that seemed out of place with the rest of the trailers. It gave off an odd, ominous vibe as if it shouldn't be there, but maybe that's what my brother was going for when he chose to live in there.

As we started to walk toward his home we could smell the air was heavy with a mix of cigarettes and weed. The grass was littered with the burnt out butts of cigarettes and joints, which told us that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed to smoke. Among the debris there were various folding chairs and small tables that denoted they all hang out frequently, with bottles of empty beers scattered on the ground and table, giving it a bit of a frat house feel. My parents exchanged a look, clearly feeling uncomfortable as they surveyed the area. My dad shrugged at my mom and continued on towards his front door, which caught my attention as it appeared brand new. I didn't necessarily mean "brand" new but it was definitely newer than the rest of his trailer, a lot cleaner than it. In that instant, I remembered that we destroyed his last door, knocking him out cold with it and a chill went down my spine as the memory played in my head. Staring at his door gave nothing but bad memories of years ago, with guilt slowly creeping up on me. I knew I shouldn't feel this way anymore but I couldn't help it. A part of me is still hurt from that day, even though we patched things up. I only wondered how long I'll feel this way towards my brother, I just wanted us to have a normal relationship.

"Matthew? You in there?" my dad called out, knocking on his door. We suddenly heard shuffling coming from the corner of his trailer, followed by the sound of footsteps coming closer to us. As the noise approached, I could feel my heart beat faster and beads of sweat starting to form on my forehead. Suddenly, the door suddenly opened wide, revealing a man with an unkempt beard stepping out. He stood tall, his frame matching my dad, though noticeably leaner. Clad in a gray hoodie, with the hood pulled up, his almost shoulder length hair messily popped out. With his tired, brown baggy eyes and aroma of weed, he completes the stereotype my parents worried about.

"Mom, dad—you made it. It's nice to see you guys." my brother said, hugging them both at the same time. My parents didn't have enough time to say anything as he engulfed them both deep in his shoulders, slowly giving him a hug back once they caught up with themselves.

"Hey Matt—it's good to see you too." my dad said, looking at my mom around his shoulders. They both shared a look of worry for moment, before breaking away from his embrace.

"Matthew sweety, happy birthday!" my mom announced. My mom handed him a blue, glittery bag filled with white tissue paper to hide his birthday gift. He looked at her hand for a moment, with a slight expression of disbelief.

"Oh wow, thanks mom." he said taking the gift. There was a slight moment of silence, with none of them knowing what to say. It seems obvious that my parents were not prepared to meet my brother again, even though Matthew seemed nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Come on in guys, I tried to clean up a bit hopefully it doesn't look too bad." he mentioned. As we walked inside his trailer, we all stood for a moment to absorb his home. The sudden presence of weed mixed with an old, carpet smell was the first thing to note. Aside from what was to be expected, the rest of his home did not match the outside at all. His home had a distinct clutter aesthetic, reflecting a mix of work and home, illuminated by the warm, ambient glow of yellow lights. His walls were covered with posters of movies and bands, though a corkboard pinned with dozens of papers and sticky notes from work was centered, displaying a chaotic yet organized exhibit of ideas and reminders. The worn out carpeting showed heavy foot traffic was prominent in his home, with various footprints leaving marks all over. At the heart of the room, a well-worn couch sat centered and against his wall, with mismatched throw pillows decorating it. Nestled in front of the couch, a coffee table stacked with books, magazines, and his bong helped match the theme with the rest of his home. Just across from the couch, a TV was set up with a gaming console on the first shelf. A small bookcase stood next to a window, partly covered by vertical blinds with a big potted plant covering the rest. The other half of his trailer displayed a small but cozy kitchen, with the carpet ending and vinyl tile starting to help contrast the difference of rooms. A small dining table with booth seats was the first thing you noticed once you transitioned into the kitchen. Granite countertops encircled the kitchen, with a vintage stove oven taking center stage, accompanied by a microwave hanging above it. On the left side, a silver fridge and a sink adorned with a pile of unwashed dishes completed the picture.

"Welcome to mi casa guys," Matthew exclaimed. My parents didn't know what to expect, judging from the look on their faces I couldn't tell if they were relieved or worried. It seem like a mix of both, me knowing that they expected a full blown frat house setting judging from the outside, but he surprisingly kept it far from that. He seemed to respect his own living space but wasn't afraid to let his personality get mixed with his work.

"Other than that smell, you keep a cozy home Matt" dad said.

"Oh well thanks, I hope it exceeds your guys' expectations" Matthew chuckled. I was too busy studying every inch of his home, noticing pictures of himself and others I never seen and met. The various posters and magazines he had lying about would be the ones I would get myself, seeing we weren't that different in taste. In the midst of spacing out, a hand on my shoulder pulled me out from dissecting his home.

"Sup Pipsqueak, it's good to see you man" Matthew said. I turned around and looked up at him with a smile, turning to him with an embrace. The smell of cologne and weed flooded my nostrils, but wasn't too terrible to bear. As we pulled away from our hug, he gave me a playful noogie, laughing a little.

"Hey bro, happy birthday, I hope you've been doing good" I said.

"Yeah man, I can't complain. Things have been looking up for a while. How 'bout you? What's been going on with you?" His question caught me off guard, as I could think of dozens of things to tell him. I realized a lot of good hasn't been happening to me, so I decided to just lie to him—for now at least.

"It's uh—been good. Just started my summer vacation a few days ago, so I've just been doing whatever" I said. He looked at me thoughtfully before speaking.

"Oh yeah school's out, wait you going into your junior year then? Damn time's going by," he remarked.

"Yeah tell me about it" I replied with a scoff. With every passing minute, our conversation flowed more easily. I could feel the nervousness and pressure finally alleviate, making me feel more connected to him than ever. For a few minutes we bonded over some similar interests, like movies and music and some things he remembers from attending Peach Creek high school. It felt as if we could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but he quickly remembered that our parents were also here and he needed to do some hosting.

"I hope you guys don't mind pizza for dinner, it should be here any minute now. Do you guys want anything to drink? I got a couple of things to—"

"Beer? I could definitely drink some. The drive was unbearable, my back was killing me the whole way down here while dealing with some bullshit drivers." my dad interrupted. My mom shot him a look that told us she was about to start yelling at him.

"That's all you can think about now? Drinking? Can't you just celebrate a moment sober for your son's birthday?" she snapped.

"Jennifer please—do not start now. I don't feel like arguin' right now" my dad responded, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Then snap out of it. You don't think my back hurts too? You don't think I deal with bullshit drivers whenever I'm out?" she complained.

"Yeah out spending my money" my dad said, under his breath.

"What did you just say Benjamin? Don't give me that bullshit right now I could—"

"Guys, please it's okay, I got beer for dad and wine for you, mom. I know you both don't like the drive here, don't feel guilty to unwind, this is my place and you're welcome to let off some steam. Come on." he motioned my mom to the counter in the kitchen to help her pour a glass of wine. He took out a tall, wine glass and went to a cupboard filled with liquor that seemed to overflow. He reached for the back to pull out a wine my mom was familiar with.

"Oh wow, you got some chardonnay from Columbia Crest, looks like you did some research of me." she snarked.

"How could I forget one of your favorite wines, there's been so many fond memories." he joked sarcastically as he poured her a glass. That joke seemed to go over her head, as my brother glanced at me noticing how oblivious she was. I chuckled a bit, before sitting down on his couch. I sank into the worn cushions, feeling how worn yet comfortable they felt.. My dad sat next a seat over from me, kicking his leg up letting out a big sigh. I could tell he was tired already even though the evening was just breaking.

"Here Benny" my mom said. She handed him an already opened bottle of beer from the fridge. He let out a soft smile, thanking her. My mom then sat in the middle between us, both having a sip of their drink. My mom's face widened with a smirk as she put her glass down on the coffee table.

"Mmm, Matt honey—you gotta keep the bottle over here next to me, I can tell I'm just gonna keep coming back and forth from your kitchen."

"Oh now look who's the one not sober" my dad mocked. She looked at him with disgust, ready to bite back but nodded her head, knowing better than to fight with him.

Matthew turned to me and asked, "You want anything to drink Pipsqueak?"

"Uh, you got any soda? I'll take whatever" I replied. He rummaged through his fridge and retrieved a glass bottle of Coke, skillfully opening it by smacking the cap against the edge of the counter.

"Here ya go bud." he said handing it to me. I thanked him and watched as he pulled a chair from the kitchen, joining us in the living room. He reached for the TV remote, turning it on to whatever sport was live. He knew the only way to keep my dad from falling asleep or being bored is for him to watch something, and this time it's gonna be basketball. Even though the game seemed to be halfway through, it's more than enough time for him to settle in. A knock on the door startled me, with a soft voice coming from the outside asking for Matthew.

"Hey Matt, got the pizzas right here." Matthew jumped up and quickly went for the door, opening it and revealing a delivery man from a local pizza shop.

"Hey Isaac, how's the night been?" Matt asked him as grabbed the pizza boxes from him.

"Not too bad, hopefully it stays easy. Happy birthday by the way, I gave you some breadsticks on the house." he said.

"Oh damn dude, thank you, you didn't have to do that."

"It's the least I could do" Isaac replied, accepting a generous tip from my brother. They seem to know each other well, I could tell that he orders pizza frequently or at least gets supplies of pizzas for the park from the pizza shop. He closed the door as he set the pizza down in the kitchen, seeing the steam escape from the boxes. The smell quickly filled the room, speeding up my hunger.

"Whenever you guys want, you can get a slice" Matthew instructed. All three of us seemed to get up at the same time, gluttonous at the thought and smell of pizza. As we got our pizza, my parents sat back down in the couch but I decide to sit at the dining table, still able to see the TV from here. My brother sat across from me, accompanying me as we ate our pizza. We picked up our conversation from last time, easily flowing back as my parents drank, talking while watching the game. The night went by nicely, I was surprised that we went a few hours without breaking into a huge argument or bringing up drama; so I thought. Of course with the both of my parents emptying his bottles of wine and beer, it's only natural for them to get drunk and lash out at each other.

"All you ever do is complain Benny! You just sit there and loathe about your life but never do anything about it. Then you get mad at me if I ever point it out, you're supposed to acknowledge the problem and then work on changing!" my mom scolded.

"How the fuck can I change if the problem is you?! You sit here and preach about helping and changing for the better but have you ever thought where all this stress and problems come from? You're so self-absorbed you don't even both to consider what I gotta do to provide for this family!" my dad retaliated.

"Ohh! You always gotta bring that up, I'm always the problem. I waste your money, don't do "nothing" for this family—yeah I'm painted to be the bad guy! You're the one who didn't want kids, but you were so convinced that you had to face your "responsibility" by stepping up. Where has that gotten us!? We're still in that same old, poor neighborhood with back breaking mortgage. What happened to those dreams and aspirations!?"

My dad raised his voice even higher than before, echoing throughout the trailer "YOU! IT WAS YOU! You held me back so many times from reaching my dreams, but no you were too scared to risk it, you wanted the safe route. The safe route was for you to be an at home mom not even helping pay anything, and just relax all day while you drive your kids away!"

"Me!? Me drive our kids away!? Let's not forget the reason why Matthew even ran away, you stupid fuck! How dare you pin that on me—"

Once again, their voices started to muffle into a mush of words, as they started to overlap their yelling. I took a deep breath in and out, as I sunk into the booth in the kitchen pulling out my phone to distract myself. I felt a tap on my shoulders, knowing it was my brother. He looked at my parents arguing before looking at me, shaking his head while giving a smile.

"Definitely don't miss this. Want to go outside? I wanna show you somethin' cool." he asked. I looked back at my parents who stood in front of each other, drinks in hand yelling at the top of their lungs. I looked back at him and nodded.

"Please" I begged. He went to the fridge to grab a couple of beers before we headed out. As we closed the door behind us, the sea breeze instantly hit my face, cooling me off the warmth of his trailer. Tonight had that perfect, summer night temperature where it felt nice to just wear a shirt outside. It wasn't too hot or too cold, really captivating the idea of summer. My brother started to head towards the gate, motioning me to follow him. The further I stepped away, the less I heard my parents arguing finally giving me some peace. My brother opened the gate, letting me out first with him following right after. We walked out to the parking lot, seeing the entire park in view. It was still on, though empty. I could faintly hear conversations of employees talking to each other, cleaning up the park to finally shut it off. The many lights of Mondo A-Go Go filled the atmosphere with a sense of nostalgia, embracing you in a familiar warmth you can't seem to decipher. I enjoyed this feeling though, it made me feel like a kid again.

"Enjoy the lights huh? It'll black out soon after we finish cleaning, but there's something even better man. Follow me" Matthew instructed. Taking one last glance at the park, I trailed behind him, leaving the parking lot behind a we made our way toward the pier. It didn't even take us 10 minutes to get there, all we had to do was cross the street and descend down the steps that led us onto a boardwalk. As we reached the bottom, I turned my head left and right marveling at the stretch of the boardwalk along the coastline. The lamps lining the walk seemed to extend infinitely, gradually getting smaller in size as I focused further down the coast.

"Damn does this go on forever?" I asked. My brother looked with me as he answered.

"Yeah it goes pretty far, if we go all the way left it'll eventually end at the pier where the beach is. It's a decent sized pier with a lot of attractions but that's a bit of a walk from here. We're gonna go to that jetty that extends from this boardwalk over there." he explained, gesturing to my left where I saw an extension of the boardwalk that stretched out towards the ocean. It went out reasonably far, so I was guessing it was a jetty for people who like to fish. As I tried to deduce, he walked to the rail of the pier, hitting the cap of his beer against it, hearing a fizz sound from the release of pressure built inside. He took a swig of his beer before marching onward, with me mindlessly following.

We shared a silence as we walked to towards the jetty, listening to the waves crash along the coast. Looking out at the ocean was almost scary, as beautiful it was during the day, at night it was nothing but a dark abyss. You could not see anything for miles out there, I can't imagine what it must look like if you're ever stranded in the ocean during night time. I feel like it would be like being lost in space. The very thought of it gave me goosebumps, shaking it off before my brother spoke to me.

"I love walking around this time. There isn't anyone on the boardwalk; no chattering or loud speakers around that'll break you away from being immersed with the ocean. Of course there's a few who like to jog at night, or people who share the same interests as me, just listening to that natural white noise." After listening to him, I focused on the sound of the ocean, hearing the gentle buildup of a wave, gaining momentum—then culminating in a crescendo of crashing. The echoes of each wave resonated in the darkness, creating such a peaceful ambiance that could lull you to sleep.

"We're coming up on the jetty, you're gonna like this Eddy" Matthew exclaimed. As we reached the jetty, he picked up in pace a little, seeming excited to share what he has in store. We headed outwards towards the ocean, with him constantly looking out to the left as if he is checking if whatever is there, is there. The further we walked out, the more I could see faint lights coming from behind the cliffside that obscured out vision from seeing south. Then, I could slowly make out what was appearing from behind. With my brother smile getting bigger and bigger, we eventually stopped at the near end of the jetty where he set his beers down, and fully take in the view of Seattle. My eyes widened at the sight of the city, standing tall against the darkened skyline. The bask of light helped illuminate the darkness around it, reflecting off the water like a mosaic. The lights danced and flickered, creating a display of energy that lived inside the city. I never knew that you could see Seattle this well from here. I know Everett is one of the closest cities from Seattle, but to witness it from this perspective is just amazing; it made me fall in love with the city even more.

"I knew you would like it, you're just like me" my brother said, breaking me out of my trance.

"Catching up with you makes me realize how much we got in common. Nice to know that we continue to share the same things" he said with a smile. I smiled back at him, with him taking another drink of his beer finishing the last drops. He set his empty bottle down to get two in hand, opening one bottle using the other.

"How doyou that? I've seen some people do it but it just doesn't make sense to me" I asked. He took a sip of his beer before answering.

"It's not too hard, you just use the other cap of the bottle as leverage and pull hard but not too much or you could break the neck of the bottle. Once you practice you find a good amount of force to use and it'll get easier to pop open" he explained. As he took another drink, he provoked me with a question.

"Do you wanna try some? I think I was about your age when I drank my first beer" he chuckled. His question caught me off guard, but it intrigued me. The thing is, I've never been a fan of alcohol. I've never actually tasted it, but I know some people say it's gross. Plus, it reminds me of my parents, which is something I don't want to end up being like.

"Don't worry Pipsqueak, it's not gonna kill ya. And it's definitely not gonna make you like mom or dad," he reassured me. I looked at the beer for a moment before taking it from his hand, bringing it up to my nose before taking a drink. Matthew's hand then prevented me from sniffing any further, lowering the bottle away from my nose.

"Trust me if you sniff it, it's just gonna make you even more grossed out. Try it first, you'll see" he said. I raised an eyebrow, skeptical at first but seeing him down two beers back to back made me think it wasn't as bad as I thought. With hesitation, I brought the bottle to my lips, letting some of the beer escape into my mouth. Instantly, I regretted it as a wave of a bitter, malty flavor flooded my mouth, making me cringe. I wanted to spit it out but my brother tried to make me swallow, struggling to speak in between fits of laughter. I gave him a look that asked him If I really needed to drink it, but it just made him laugh even harder. The foam and fizzle of the beer made it harder to keep it in my mouth, noticing that if I didn't swallow I'd be throwing it up soon. I watched my brother continue to laugh as he tried to speak.

"Jus-just swallow! Ha ha!" he laughed. I gave him a look of disbelief, narrowing my eyes at him as he continued to laugh at my reaction. After a few seconds I gained the courage to swallow it all, retching at the taste that followed afterwards.

"What the fuck man, that's disgusting! How can you and dad drink these!?" I shouted in disgust. Matthew's laughter began to calm down as he could finally get words out of his mouth.

"Oh man—your face dude, that was hilarious!" he chuckled.

"Trust me man, it's an acquired taste. Beer is gross at first, but the more you drink it you'll like it more" he explained. I don't know what he was talking about, after tasting it for the first time I for sure wouldn't want to drink it a second time.

"You did good though, when I first drank mine, I instantly spit it out. It's weird but later on, a beer will sound good to you" Matthew explained. I found it hard to believe, but then I think about my dad and how he could chug down a whole case of beer by himself, wondering what about it made it so good to drink.

"Yeah well, I don't think I'll be drinking any for a while after that" I claimed. Matthew chuckled at my response, giving me a pat on my back giving me a sense of assurance. After we calmed down, we turned back to watch the city flicker with life. We shared a couple moments of silence, enjoying the atmosphere nature has created. It was nice to know that my brother enjoyed moments of silence like me, where it didn't feel awkward at all. Usually I'd have to say something to break the silence if it was anyone else, but he understood that two people enjoying the same experience spoke louder than words. After a few moments of savoring the view, he reached into his pocket and took out a small, white capsule. He pressed both sides, making a pop sound that revealed a perfectly rolled joint nestled inside. Bringing it to his lips, he took out a lighter from his hoodie pocket and ignited a flame, burning the end of the joint. He inhaled as embers formed, taking a few seconds before exhaling a cloud of smoke that danced around us. He coughed slightly but regained his composure quickly, seeing him become relaxed in an instant. He locked eyes with me, extending the joint as an invitation to smoke with him. I was scared for a moment, hesitant to smoke; this would be my first time and I don't think anyone back home has tried smoking yet. Echoes of Double D's warnings played through my head, remembering all the dangers of drugs he was taught from his parents. Of course I knew his parents were bullshit sometimes, but for some reason those thoughts made me reluctant to try it now.

"You don't have too, but if you're curious you can try. I ain't gonna tell mom or dad either, I wouldn't get anything out of that" he said with a smile. A part of me really wanted to share a new experience with my brother, unable to remember any moments of us bonding. I never felt this close to him before, and I didn't want it to end. I wanted to keep making memories with him that I'll be happy to remember, making up the years of neglect I went through. I took up on his offer, putting the joint between my fingers. I looked at the trail of smoke that escaped from the tip of the joint, watching the embers flicker.

"Take a small drag first, get used to the smoke being in your lungs. You're gonna cough a lot, but you'll get better at managing it." he explained, smirking at me with baggy eyes. I looked away from him, setting my eyes at the city before taking the joint to my lips, inhaling softly. Immediately, the smoke entered my throat that made me gag and cough, a bit disgusted at the flavor it left in my mouth. I passed the joint back to my brother where he was laughing softly, but comforting me with a hand on my shoulder. He told me to try to control my breathing, which helped me calm down my coughing.

"Hey not bad, you got the breathing down already" Matthew said with a smile. I looked at him with a skeptical look, wondering if I'm supposed to feel any different.

"It'll hit ya soon enough, you'll definitely notice after a few minutes. Just relax, listen to the ocean and watch the city come to life," he said, taking another drag of his joint. He passed back the joint to me, where I let it rest in my fingers for a minute, watching the city as I regained my composure. I took a deep breath in before taking another smoke, this time feeling it go down a bit smoother. I still coughed as I exhaled, but it was better this time. I passed back the joint to my brother, continuing to share it until it got smaller and smaller. After a few minutes I didn't know if I felt any different, but I soon started to feel tingly all over, sensing a wave of relaxation consuming me. My senses felt heightened, allowing me to notice the smallest of details: the sound of the waves crashing, the subtle creak of the boardwalk, the ocean breeze sweeping through my hair, and the lights of the city shimmering like a sea of stars. The colors of Seattle became more vivid than before, as if someone turned up the saturation dial on the world. It was a blissful experience, where I constantly got lost in my own thoughts. So lost that I didn't even notice my brother was trying to hand me the last bit of the joint.

"Heh, you good Pipsqueak? I could see it in your eyes, you're feeling it. It feels nice huh? Nice to just let your mind run free, to enjoy the present. I wanted to share this moment with you, to let you experience what it feels like to stop worrying about the past or future, and just live in the now" Matthew preached. He was right, for the first time ever I felt grounded. I realized I haven't had a thought about yesterday or what tomorrow will bring, all I thought about was the things I felt around me.

"Yeah, you're right. I've never felt this way before. It's…nice" I said with a somber tone. I could notice Matthew was staring at me for a little, putting his hand on my shoulder, shaking it to let me know he was here with me, both physically and emotionally. I've always envisioned this is how our relationship should have been like, but growing up with him was the worst. He would neglect me every other day, hit me if he was ever mad, and cuss me out if I was ever around him. I grew to hate him too, avoiding him as much as I could but it was hard since we lived in the same house. I never understood why he was so hard on me, I never did anything wrong. I tried to love and support him but as soon as he got the chance, he left without a care in the world. I knew my parents drove him away, but I believed that I was also part of the reason why. Whatever the case was, I just thought it had something to do with me. I've felt disconnected from him, depressed that someone I grew up with, someone I looked up to, hated me. After he left I told myself I would be better than him, trying to appease my parents as much as I could but while growing up in the cul-de-sac, I realized that I grew to be just like him. Everything that he's done to me, built up a lot of resentment and anger that I took out on the neighborhood. All the selfishness, all the scams, that the gang and Double D and Ed endured, rooted from him. I even ran to him when I needed help, and all he did was bully me in front of everyone. From that day on, he was dead to me. I thought that this was a relationship that will never blossom, never to rekindle and I tried to find peace in that. But I never imagined that a couple years later I'd be here with him, sharing an experience I'll definitely never forget.

"Eddy, I hope you know I really am sorry." Matthew spoke, breaking the silence. I looked at him, widening my eyes as I questioned him.

"Huh? What do you mean?" I asked. He continued to stare at Seattle, with a face that debated what he should say next. He took a deep breath in before speaking.

"I'm just…sorry. For all these years. I know what I've done to you, the shit I made you go through when we were kids. I was inconsiderate, and it wasn't fair for you. I know there must have been nights where you stayed up thinking what you were doing wrong. You didn't do anything wrong, Eddy. It was just me. It's my fault that I ruined our relationship, what we could have had. And to makes things worse, I still took out my anger on you when you showed up for help. When I saw you appear in front of my door, I just had a wave of memories of back home and it pissed me off. I left Peach Creek for a reason, and you being there just reminded me of everything that I tried running away from. Please believe me, if I could do it all over again I would have been better for you. I left you in that toxic and abusive house, all alone. I should have helped you, I should have been there for you" his words echoed through my head, wondering if this is actually Matthew or some sort of fantasy that manifested itself in the real world. I could feel tears forming, but I quickly wiped them away not wanting him to look at me cry. His words struck me deep, words I thought I would never hear. This is all I really wanted from him, some sort of closure and apology, something to let me know that we were okay. I just wanted someone who actually understood my experience, and the only other person who knew was the one who ran away.

"I really want you to get that through your head, Eddy. It wasn't you. It was mom and dad. Before you were even born, they acted differently than today. They were a lot worse, a lot more abusive and angry. You heard mom, dad never wanted kids and that's the exact reason they act this way towards us. From what I know, they tried to get an abortion but it was during a time that whole thing was so controversial, both of their parents were too religious to allow them and their beliefs rubbed onto mom" he took a break to stomp out the joint that we finished, with him taking a sip of his beer to rehydrate himself. He was unloading a lot of information I never knew about, things I never bothered to ask or even think about.

"From their countless arguments, and stories from grandma, I could make out that dad tried so hard to push abortion onto mom, and he almost got to her. He's said that he was either gonna stress the baby out of her or force her to go to the doctor. It was a messy pregnancy, with both wanting different things. I have no idea how they found some middle ground, but they eventually had me. Grandma told me that dad wasn't around that much for the first three years, coming in and out of their lives leaving it to my mom to take care of me. But when I was around 4, for some reason he decided to take responsibility and proposed to my mom, promising her to be better. She was a hopeless romantic, she really thought that dad would have changed but she soon found out he was no better than before. If anything he was worse, he would be a constant drunk, always getting fired from jobs, and even hit mom at some times" he took another break to finish the last of his third beer, setting it down on the ground letting the ocean fill in the silence before speaking again.

"One of my very first memories was dad yelling at mom, throwing a bottle of beer at her. It shattered against the wall, leaving me so scared of him. I hid in my closet hoping they'd stop, but shit dude, they can go on forever. Mom would call grandma to pick me up, and I would stay at her house for a couple of days at times. It seemed like every other day I would be in and out of the house, because our parents would try to kill each other. I have no idea why they stuck together. I don't know if it's because they did it for us, for themselves, or cause they were afraid they'd end up alone. But I think being alone for the rest of your life is a lot better than going through the same thing every day" he reached down to grab the last, fourth beer he brought. Slamming it against the rail, it popped open, with him quickly taking a swig, wiping the leftover beer from his lips.

"The worst part is they took their frustration out on me. They had so much resentment towards me, that I was the reason for them being together, that if I was never born then maybe they wouldn't have endured each other's abuse. I grew up thinking I was a mistake, something that should have never happened and I was treated poorly for it. They would hit me, forget about picking me up from school, yell at me, and deprive me of things that could have made my childhood happy. I was robbed of so many experiences as a child, jealous of other kids having a happy life. I felt like I rushed to be an adult, learning how to fend for myself at just 8 years old. But then, that was around the time you were born" his eyes narrowed at me, with mixed emotions of despair, and envy. I looked back at him, trying to understand what he was conveying.

"For whatever reason, a reason I'd rather not know, they had you. Not trying to offend you or anything, but why would they have a kid after treating me like shit? So they would have a second punching bag? It made no sense to me, I felt scared for you. I was scared they'd treat you the same as me, but I told myself I would look after you no matter what. I wouldn't let them treat you how they treated me, maybe we would have each other's backs. But after a few months of you being born, it's like mom and dad were born anew. Dad actually got a stable job, mom stopped drinking for a while, and they actually treated you how I wished I was treated. I saw mom cherish you, buying you toys, spending time with you at the park, actually dropping you off at school on time, getting you clothes—like I did not understand what was going on. It made me feel like shit. It made me feel like a reject, an example of what not to have. Dad even spent time with you. He actually made an effort even though it would make him mad or tire him, but the fact that he even attempted to make memories with you ASTOUNDED me" Matthew began to raise his voice, his tone getting angrier as he remembers his past. Though, it didn't feel like it was being directed towards me, this time it actually felt like he was venting, yelling at the ocean with his voice disappearing into the abyss. He angrily chugged his beer, noticing that he was getting cross faded. I was worried for a bit, seeing him act this way out of trauma. But unknowingly, I started to pat his back to show him some assurance. He looked at me bewildered, as if this is the first time someone showed him support. He looked down again at the ocean, breathing in and out as he spoke more calmly.

"I hated you. I hated mom and dad. I hated home, I hated my family. I saw how differently they treated you, mom spoiled the shit out of you, and dad somewhat tolerated you. I thought to myself what I did wrong, why was I the odd one left out, why they hated me so much. I never felt like such an outcast before, and I thought it was impossible to feel that way with your family. But they traumatized me, and to make things worse you were around to shove it all in my face. I know you never meant to hurt me, but seeing you get treated the way I wanted to, hurt me. Mom and dad seemed to want to have a second chance as being decent people; a whole makeover. It wasn't fair I thought, why wouldn't they want to fix things with me first before having you? Everything that I was robbed of, you had it on a silver platter. That's why I treated you like shit, I wanted you to feel what I went through, because I shouldn't be the only one that's broken."

Fuck, man.

His words—his emotions, I never felt such honesty from a person before. His pain was something that couldn't be measured, something that no one could understand but him. It made me feel so damn guilty, realizing that no amount of apologies could fix what he went through. All this time, I was always so caught up with myself, so worried about why Matthew didn't like me. But I never stopped to think why they didn't like him. I always felt bad for him, sorry that I couldn't do anything to help him, but all he needed was for someone to listen to him—to understand him. He was hated since birth, but never did anything wrong. He was brought into this world just like the millions of babies before him, and the millions of babies after him. Mom and dad made it seem like Matthew was the bad apple in the bunch, but I forget that there's over 8 years worth of memories I wasn't there to witness. I can't imagine the years he endured being misunderstood; no one else to witness his abuse, and no one he could run too.

"I—I'm sorry" I cried. I looked away from him and stared at the city, hoping he wouldn't see any more tears from me. We both sat in silence as I tried to control my sniffles. We both just stared at the city trying to process our emotions, wondering what I should say to him after that whole thing. I didn't expect him to vent to me as deeply as he did, but a part of me is glad I'm having this type of closure.

"On that day, when I ran away, I debated if I should have taken you with me. I thought how long would it be until mom and dad would give you the cold shoulder, and maybe I could save you from it. But I had a feeling you would have been fine, and maybe you would have grown up happier if I wasn't around. It seems you did just fine, but it's no excuse for me not to be there for you. I promise, I'll make it up to you now. This time I'm not going anywhere, I'm always here if you need me." Matthew ended, looking up onto the city. I tried to calm my tears but they easily escaped my eyes, unable to hold it in anymore. I started to sob but I felt so embarrassed, trying to muffle my cries while I looked away from him. I tried to apologize to him but no words could get out of my mouth; I had a lump in my throat that didn't seem to go away.

"Mat—Matthew I'm so sorry" I stuttered. Unconsciously, I threw a hug at my brother, trying to make up years of pain through my guilty embrace. I couldn't imagine how alone he must have felt, not having a shoulder to lean on. Even after being traumatized for his entire childhood, he still showed acceptance, and forgiveness to those who wronged him either directly, or indirectly. That's what I didn't understand, there's so many reasons for him to not forgive my parents, for him to disappear and never look back. But he decided to stay, he decided to stay in touch and reconnect with me. If I were him, I would have left a lot sooner. Matthew then put his hands on my shoulders, narrowing his eyes deeply into mine as if he tried to telepathically communicate with me.

"Eddy, listen to me. If I could talk to my younger self today, I would tell him to get the hell out. I know Peach Creek is the only home you know, but trust me you cannot stay in that house, you cannot stay with them. I don't care how different they are now, there's been so many times where I gave them second chances hoping that they would love me, but it would be for nothing. I know mom loves you a lot—I can see it, but trust me she feels compelled to love you out of guilt and fear. She's afraid you'll turn into me, that you'll run away someday. And believe me, I know dad can't wait until the day you do." In that moment, a lot of mixed feelings came crashing down on me at once. I wanted to believe him, but a part of me could never leave Peach Creek. There's too many memories there, too many people I've grown attached to. I can't just pack up and leave whenever I want, the baggage is too heavy to carry. I believed him when he said our parents couldn't wait until I'm out, but it hurts too much knowing that your entire life has just been a countdown to them.

"I know I'm contradicting myself here because I ended up wanting to reconnect with them, but my journey has been a bit different than yours. I needed peace—my soul needed peace. I needed to forgive them so I could finally have some quiet in my head and that's something I don't expect you to understand until you end up in my shoes. That's exactly what I don't want for you. I want to save you from years of neglect and abuse; I couldn't save you then, but I want to try to save you now. I know it hurts leaving the place you grew up in, but you just need to have a plan—you need to be ready to leave at a moment's notice and know what to do. Of course, you have me Eddy, you can come crash with me anytime you want but you must be the one willing to take the first step. You must gather the strength and courage to love yourself enough to leave, to save yourself from anymore hatred."

I stared without saying a word, letting the ambiance of the ocean fill in between the pauses.

"Eddy, do you promise? If that day ever comes, will you be ready to save yourself?" he asked me. His eyes met mine, conveying a shared understanding that went beyond mere conversation. I could feel his empathy shining through his words, sincere and heartfelt. The seriousness in his tone made it clear how deeply he cared. I took my time putting my words together, slowly building up his anticipation for my response. We continued to lock eyes as I finally spoke,

"I promise."