**
On Saturday Hugo survived a shit-ton of complaining from his band mates, but didn’t hear anything after they started the show. In fact, they all claimed he’d performed better than he’d had in a long time. He didn’t feel like it, but the crowd had agreed with them.
Hugo didn’t want to stay long at the after party. He suddenly felt awkward around these people he had known for a large portion of his life. They asked about his new job that was dragging him away from the truly important things, and he didn’t know what to say to them. He could see the future and control the wind, he’d saved people and he’d murdered someone. He hadn’t seen the latest episode of The Daily Show, but kept dreaming of an explosion that would kill them all. He was alone there.
“Where are you going?” Lewis asked out of nowhere, throwing his arm across his brother’s shoulders.
“Nowhere. I just, uh…need some fresh air.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
Hugo’s face turned red, “N-nothing. I’m fine.”
His brother snorted, “Bullshit. Is it your new job?”
Hugo looked out over the dimly illuminated crowd. Steve was practically standing on a chair, making an animated announcement to a group of giggling girls. “It’s a lot of…responsibility. I-I don’t think I’m…ready for it.”
Lewis snorted, “Responsibility? That is new for you.”
“Shut up,” but there was no malice behind the command. It was true. He was 22 years old, he was in a band that could be doing better if he wasn’t such a coward about getting up on stage, and he had been surviving on a part time, dead-end job and didn’t want anything better. He had always been marked as unambitious, lazy. He wanted to be those things. You couldn’t fail if no one had any faith in your abilities. He hadn’t done it on purpose, but reading those psychology books he understood that was what he’d been doing his whole life. He was terrible.
“What do they have you doing?”
“Does it matter? I don’t want to talk about work right now.” Lewis removed his arm. Hugo cringed slightly at his tone, it hadn’t exactly been civil.
“Alright, alright. Look. I was going to head out anyway, need a ride?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
Hugo stared silently out the window the entire time. No chance he could tell his brother about his abilities now. Who knew the detective’s brother would turn out to be a killer? He was terrible and a cliché.
The Sound of Wind Page 29