I put down the opening chapter of my mom’s latest space epic and lifted an eyebrow at her. “It’s an interesting concept, but did you really think it would be a good idea to name the main character after yourself?”

She twiddled her fingers nervously, “well, it just felt right to me. I mean, I really relate to this character.”

“Mom!” I lit into her, “that’s super conceited. What will your fans think?”

“I’m sure they won’t mind.”

“Yes, they will,” I shook my head, “you shouldn’t have me proofread your work if you aren’t going to at least consider my opinions.”

“When did my son get to be such a cynic anyway? You are starting to remind me of those reviewers on Greatreads.”

“Take that back.”

“No,” she stuck her tongue out at me, “Now hurry up and get ready, your brother’s piano recital is in an hour.”

“Oh crap, is that tonight?”

“Christopher Carthage, how many times have we been over this?”

“Uhhh,” I stammered, “I forget. How many?”

“Too many,” she replied. “Now get dressed and let’s go. If you won't do it for me, then at least do it for Ethan.”

"You don't have to tell me that mom. I would do anything for him."

My little brother Ethan meant the world to me. He was a good kid, a great student, and an even better sibling. Even though we didn’t share the same father, Ethan and I were more bonded then Oxygen and Water. It devastated me to think that he would be leaving for college in only a couple of months. He was my best friend, and a damn good one at that. Plus, he always managed to keep mom off my back. With Ethan around, she had no problem overlooking my lifestyle, but I wondered what she would be like with him away at school. It was not a pleasant thought. She might even force me to get a job.

“Are you ready?” Mom pounded fiercely on my door, “we’re going to be late.”

“Coming,” I shouted back as I desperately tried to knot my tie. You know what, screw this. I yanked off the tie and unbuttoned the top of my shirt. There was nothing wrong with a dress-casual look, nobody’s eyes would be on me anyway.

“I’m ready!” I jerked open my door only to be met with a disapproving gaze.

“Here’s a clip on,” mom tossed one of Ethan’s ties at me, “let’s go.”

On the ride to my brother’s recital, I dove headfirst into my phone and perused social media. There wasn’t really anything too interesting going on in the world. A tornado had done some major damage in Oklahoma, and the Internal Revenue Service was embroiled in a scandal, but that was about it. As for the few Facebook friends I had, most of them were busy debating politics or ranting and raving about gaming industry news. I wasn’t too interested in the political stuff, but the gaming news kept me engrossed throughout the car ride.

“We’re here.” Mom barely squeezed our behemoth of an SUV into the tight quarters of a downtown parking lot. As usual, we were one of the last to arrive, but I was at least partially to blame for that. I loved Ethan, but I hated his recitals, mostly because of mom.

Mom fleeced her dress with a lint roller and then took a few brushes at her jet-black hair before tossing her beauty instruments at me. “Clean yourself up,” she said, “you look like a shut-in”.

“I am a shut-in,” I replied.

“Do it for Ethan”.

“Fine,” I growled. I hated to admit it, but the whole 'do it for your brother' thing always worked way too well on me.

I grabbed the lint roller and ran it haphazardly across my suit before flipping my bangs to the left. Mom and I shared the same hair color, but that was about it. My hair was wiry and unmanageable, while hers was silky smooth. As hard as I tried to explain this fact to her, she always seemed to act disappointed about my appearance, especially at Ethan’s events.

“Sometimes I wonder what I’m going to do with you,” she shook her head in disgust. I grunted back.

With her usual vigor, Mom hopped out of the car. She grabbed me by the arm and yanked me towards the auditorium. As we shuffled forward, it wasn’t long before the other parents swarmed her as they always did.

“When is your next book coming out?” One woman asked.

“Is it true that it’s a romance set in space?” Another butted in.

I carefully slid to the back of my mom’s entourage where I was met by Erin, whose sister was also performing at the recital. We were both misfortunate enough to be the children of writers. Erin’s mother, unlike my own, wrote literary fiction. She and my mother were in a constant battle for publicity, fame, and fortune. Erin and I also battled, but in a different sort of arena.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Hello Fairykiller,” I nudged her with my shoulder.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that around other people,” she rolled her eyes.

“How many?”

“Ugh.” She sighed. “You’re impossible.”

“Have you seen the latest news? Micro Effect 3 is getting a new DLC. I think they might finally be fixing that god-awful ending.”

“Are you serious?” Her tone changed instantly.

“100%,” I responded.

“Well, it better be free. I’m not paying for something that should have been in the base game in the first place.”

“Amen to that.”

“So Chris, what do you say? Want to run some co-op on Dark Ops 5 after this?”

“Of course, only if you can handle it.” We both chuckled awkwardly.

A familiar hand slapped me on the back, interrupting our conversation.

“Ethan!” I waved Erin off, “Why are you outside? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Have you seen my dad?” His dark brown eyes stared at me with misplaced hope.

“Not yet, but I’m sure he’s around.”

“Well, if you see him, let me know.” Ethan faked a smile and then turned back towards the recital hall.

“Wait!” I twisted him back around. “Your bow tie is crooked.” I knelt down and pretended to fix his already perfectly postured bow tie. With his guard lowered, I went in for the kill, embracing him tightly in my arms.

“You’re embarrassing me,” he blushed.

“Good luck buddy,” I released him from my grasp and then moved to join my mom in the auditorium. She had chosen to sit right in the front row, at the focal center of the room as always. I loved my mom, but sometimes I worried about her. She seemed to crave attention, and she never liked to be out of the public eye. It was as though she was scared to be alone.

“Did you see Ethan?” She prodded.

“Yeah, he asked about his dad.”

“I wish he would stop doing that,” my mom clenched her fist, “that man is no good.”

“That may be true, but you can hardly blame him. Ethan worked hard for this moment, and next year he will be away in Colorado. This is his dad’s last chance to be a part of his childhood.”

“Sadly, that’s not going to happen,” Mom shook her head, “that man is not right enough to come to an event like this.”

I sat back in my seat and rolled my eyes. Sure, David was a bit eccentric, but Ethan did have a right to see him. Just like I had a right to know who my father was. My mother never told me, and always changed the subject when I brought it up to her. When I turned 18, I requested a copy of my birth certificate from the county courthouse only to find the paternity line blank, much to my disappointment. I envisioned him as a bit of a whack job like Ethan’s dad, but perhaps I only did that because David was the sole male figure who had played a prominent role in my life.

As I pondered my parentage, the recital began with a whimper as a number of freshmen nervously made mistake after mistake on stage. I mostly tuned them out, merely using their music as a background to set my thoughts. The middle section of the show was notably improved, but nothing to write home about. It consisted of average students playing average music. One girl tripped on her way across the stage, but that was the only exciting thing to happen. Then it was Ethan’s turn. He was set up to headline the final group of advanced students.

Ethan approached the piano brimming with confidence. He bowed, causing his dark brown hair to bob slightly over his eyes. The kid had a certain artistic edge about him that I worried would be neutered at the Air Force Academy. Ethan was a different kind of piano player. Just as I would spend hours honing my gaming skills, Ethan would spend hours creating new music. He had told me on a number of occasions that his music was influenced by space, ‘a dimension of limitless possibilities’ as he called it. Ethan dreamed of becoming an astronaut, and his music reflected his interests.

Ethan sat down at the piano, and took a deep breath, positioning his hands carefully over its keys. It should have been the happiest moment in his musical career, but it wasn't. Something terrible happened. Something that would change the world forever.

Hostile Presence Detected

Target Identified as Ethan Livingston

Enacting Protective Countermeasures

My body flung up on its own, directed by an eerie female voice. The voice compelled me to place one foot after another in quick order as my brother played the opening notes of his composition. Almost in step with the music, I found myself running towards the stage, just as the auditorium door came crashing open.

Using a strength that welled up inside me I vaulted myself onto the stage.

“Ethan. Time for you to die, you alien shit.” The psychotic voice of my former stepdad rang loudly through my ears as I rushed towards my brother, who stared into the audience with abject shock, still plugging away at the keys in front of him.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Three shots rang out in unison as I ensnared my brother in my grasp.

One after another they hit me. First in my upper back, then in my thigh and finally the kill shot – straight to the back of my head.

The world faded to black as my corpse fell on top of my brother, shielding him from the next round of bullets. These were my final moments of life. What a waste it was. But, at least I would get to die protecting my best friend.

Greetings Operative Carthage.

Do not be alarmed, your brother is safe.

Please get some rest, we will talk soon.

“Who are you?” I asked the disembodied female voice.

I’m your PAL.

“Hell no,” I responded, completely pissed off at my fate. This was not how I wanted to spend my last moments on Earth. Why do my final moments with my brother have to involve a fictional character from my mom’s book? Why?

Initiating Memory Recall

Recalling the Final Words of Commander Ares Troy.

…

The voice of an emotional older man echoed through the darkness. “Goodbye Hera, for what it’s worth, I love you too.” The communication cut out, but then returned a moment later with a slightly garbled, but still discernable message, “If you do somehow manage to survive, take our son far from this place and give him a normal life. Let him know that his dad loved him very much. I’m sorry.”

Rest, young operative.

We will talk again soon.