Flick snorts from his station, not even bothering to hide his laughter. “Smooth.”
I shoot him a withering look, even as I answer the call and check the screen.
Cosmo.
I sigh. “Of course.”
Cosmo is my youngest brother. The surprise child. The chaos child. My parents had four of us already—three boys and a girl—and then boom, surprise baby number five rolls in like a nuclear glitter bomb.
And they called him Cosmo.
They thought it was hilarious. He still thinks it is.
“Hey, little man,” I say as I press the phone to my ear and drop back into the office chair.
“Yo,” he says, voice too loud and full of unearned energy. “What’s up, ink god?”
“Iwillhang up.”
“You won’t. I’m the only one keeping you from dying alone in your shop surrounded by empty Red Bull cans and crushed dreams.”
I rub a hand over my face. “What do you want?”
“I’m just finishing exams. Thought I’d call my favourite brother.”
“I’m the only brother who answers your calls.”
“And yet… still the favourite.”
I smile despite myself. And truthfully, I miss the shit out of him and the rest of my family.
We talk for a bit—him rambling about a paper he bullshitted his way through, an ice hockey team drama I only half understand, a guy he maybe kissed or maybe dreamt about, unclear—but eventually he pauses.
“You sound weird.”
“Thanks?”
“No, like… not bad. Just off. You okay?”
I pause. And then—because apparently my mouth is running emotional updates without consulting me—I say, “I kissed someone.”
Cosmo makes a longooooooohhhsound, like I’ve just admitted to robbing a bank with a supermodel.
“I didn’t mean to,” I add.
“Wait, what? Was it, like, an accidental kiss? Did you trip and fall on their face?”
“No,” I groan. “I mean I didn’t plan it. It just happened. Heat of the moment. And now… I think I got ghosted.”
He’s quiet for a second, which for Cosmo is suspicious. “Damn,” he says at last. “Was it, like, good?”
I close my eyes and lean my head back. “It was… a lot.”
There’s a beat of silence before he drops his wisdom, delivered with all the grace of someone who gets most of his life advice from memes and YouTube shorts. “Life is too short, man. Like, you remember that gorilla? The one in captivity for, like, twenty years? They released him back to the wild and he died in a day.”
I frown. “What the hell?—”
“Don’t be the gorilla, Brent.”
