Growing up, I wasn’t really close to my older brother. By the time I was old enough to have memories, Milo was in high school, hanging out with his friends as any teenager would. We don’t make much in common besides the fact that we both grew up around music. I know for sure that my brother grew up with our parents with music blasting through the stereo as they did their Saturday cleaning. I have this one memory of being a kid and watching Milo look at our parents in horror as he brought Sophie to the house on one of those Saturday mornings. Music, if anything, symbolized a lot of things in our family. To my parents, it symbolized love. They had their own band growing up, writing and performing songs with Uncle Danny and Aunt Nicki, and as they got older they still used music to showcase their love. For us, it meant togetherness. Our family always came together whenever music was playing; whether it was on the car radio or at one of our performances in school, our family always was so passionate about music.
But even music did not bring my brother and I close together.
I walked up the front steps of a small house, catching my breath as I carried my DJ equipment on my back. I rang the bell, and shortly after my brother answered the door.
“Hey, dude,” Milo greeted me, opening the door wider in order for me to walk in. I looked around the house as I took my bag off, leaving it near the door with my shoes. We weren’t allowed to wear our shoes in Milo’s house, as it showed disrespect in Asian culture.
“Hey,” I greeted back, digging in my bookbag and getting straight to the point. “Mom wanted me to drop this off on my way home. I guess Sophie was asking for it.” I handed over the container to Milo as he took it.
“Ah, yeah; Sophie said that Jennifer was giving this back to us,” Milo said, walking towards the kitchen area. “She’s making cupcakes for Summer’s bake sale thing at school.” Summer was Milo’s and Sophie’s oldest kid. In a way, Summer felt more like a sibling of mine than my niece. Of course, I was her uncle whether she would get too boy crazy; like, she’s 13 for fuck’s sake.
“Yeah; one less thing I need to carry on my bag,” I said, pointing at my bag. Milo glances over to look at it, then back at me.
“Is that what was at Dani’s place?” he asked. I nodded, annoyed that my mom would even tell Milo what I was doing today. “That’s a lot of baggage to carry around.” I looked at Milo, trying to decipher his words. He was always known as someone who never bluntly said what he said and meant what he meant.
“Yeah, it is,” I spat out, getting myself ready to leave Milo’s place. “I have to get–“
“Wait, Micah,” Milo interrupted me, getting my attention. I turned around to face him. “I wanted to actually spend some time with you before you head back home.” I couldn’t help but scoff when we said that.
“Yeah? What, mom told you to do this?” I asked, shaking my head. “We never spent time with each other before–“
“Micah, I mean it,” Milo began to explain. “I haven’t gotten the chance to just sit down with you and talk. We’re both so busy living our lives that–“
“I’ve been perfectly fine just passing by, bro,” I cut Milo off, not wanting to get into it with him. “I have to get going before mom thinks–“
“For fuck’s sake Micah, can you just listen for once?” Milo spat out. Ah, this is the brother I’ve grown to know. “You’re acting like I can’t be concerned for my own brother–“
“Half brother,” I corrected him. I had to remind Milo that the reason why we weren’t close isn’t the fact that we’re literally 10 years apart, but simply just the fact that he made it clear as day that his siblings were just half of him.
“We’re still brothers, asshole,” Milo spat back, now annoyed. “Let’s not act like I wasn’t there when you were thrown in jail.”
“Oh geez! Thanks for the reminder!” I sarcastically reacted. “Seriously, what could I have ever done if you weren’t already at the house having dinner with mom and dad? You wouldn’t have even cared if I was sentenced to life–“
“Are you fucking hearing yourself, dude?” Milo said, growing more angry. “Seriously, why do you always act like the world is out to get you or something?”
“Because you guys always act like it is!” I shouted back, growing frustrated. “Like seriously dude, when was the last time we actually did something together as brothers without it being because mom and dad forced us?” Milo didn’t say anything, which was extremely telling. “Stop acting like you care when all I am to you is a thorn in your side. You, mom, dad; all of you treat me like the damn black sheep of the family, and then care when I’m in danger. Like pick a fucking side!” I thought that would be the end of our conversation and that Milo would just kick me out of his place. I’ve come to terms that Milo will never truly be the older brother I could confine in; his picture-perfect life with his family has no room for anything that is damaged.
Milo started to laugh, as if this shit was just some game to him. The louder he laughed, the more angry I became.
“Oh shit, that was a good one, Micah,” Milo said as he got his composure together. “You? A black sheep? You grew up with both of your biological parents in a nice ass house in Brooklyn. You were in all the music extracurricular activities that you wanted to be in as a kid. You didn’t grow up watching your dad date all these different girls until he married Jennifer. You didn’t grow up being a black sheep because you never were the black sheep. I was.”
“Is this some fucking competition?” I yelled out, walking toward Milo. “Seriously, are you making this a competition?”
“No, Micah; I’m tell you how it really is. Your problem is that you believe you’ve been so mistreated by your family because you’re “so different”, when really it was you that distanced yourself from everyone around you.” Thankfully, Milo’s phone started to ring and answered it in the other room. I had no other reason to stay any longer, so I grabbed my things and left his place.
Milo and I were never close; I grew up thinking that maybe it was just the age gap between us. As I got older, I realized that our age had nothing to do with it. Milo was proud to being the original black sheep of our family.
Letters From Liz. 