The first day of school was a mere two weeks away. In an attempt to push that sobering fact to the recesses of his mind, Melek spent his free time imagining potential clothing combinations. He had essentially memorized Robby’s entire wardrobe, so he indulged in this fantasy at will.

He lay on his plain bed in his plain room, listening to “Blood in the Streets” at full volume while contemplating which of Robby’s jeans would go with his white Supreme t-shirt.

The headphones connected to his portable CD player were of such high quality that he felt as if he was hearing the song for the very first time. The balanced EQ allowed for a clearer sound than Robby’s bass-heavy setup.

He reached for the jewel case resting on his nightstand. Despite the ubiquity of MP3s, he cherished his CD player as if it was a new Dior jacket—with its glossy black and gold casing and multiple input jacks. Robby had gifted it and a copy of 36 Seasons during his last visit. It took everything in Melek’s power to hold back his tears of appreciation.

Melek’s door flew open, startling him. His aunt stood at his doorway, her face the same shade of red as the Moscato bottle poking out of her paper bag.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from Robby?” she said through gritted teeth.

Shit, Melek thought. “Huh?”

“You heard me. Tell me why Janette said she saw you and Robby hanging out near the apartments off Jackson street?”

If you looked up ‘enabler’ in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of Janette topping off aunt Sharon’s wine glass. She, of all people, discovering his friendship with Robby seemed like a form of karmic retribution for Melek having such a joyous summer break.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about. Maybe she confused me for someone else.”

“I can’t believe you would sit there and lie to my face. Seriously? Over that degenerate piece of shit?”

“Don’t talk about him like that!”

She slowly set her bag down and stomped toward Melek. Her rageful eyes glued to his. “Watch your tone. You are still living under my roof, and I—”

“This is Dad’s place, not yours.” The gloves were off. Insulting Robby was the last straw.

She gasped, her face frozen with shock as she took a few steps back. “After all I’ve done for you—”

“And what have you done exactly? Robby’s done more for me in one summer than you have in two years!”

Finally, he let go of something that had been nestled in his gut for weeks. Consequences be damned. He felt incredible at that moment.

What happened next was truly baffling. She dropped her head and smiled. “Oh… now I get it.”

“What?”

“He thinks he can run from his guilt by getting you on his side.” Her eyes jumped to his CD player. “Did he get you that? He thinks he can buy you, huh?”

“What are you talking about?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“You can never run away from your past. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Melek’s curiosity turned into aggravation. What the hell was she yapping about?

“Who do you think sold your father those drugs?”

Melek picked up on the implication, but he didn’t want to entertain the thought.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

Anyone but him. Not big bro. “Robby wouldn’t—” The realization hit him like a hatchet to the skull. The exorbitant apartment, his discomfort regarding his past, his obsession with staying in Melek’s good graces. The seemingly desperate pieces came together to form a clear image. “Are you sure?”

“I heard he quit. But once a thug, always a thug.”

“Even if that was true, how do you know he sold Dad drugs?”

“When I last visited you guys, I caught Robby leaving the apartment. Your dad told me it was just marijuana.” She buried her face in her hands.

“See? It was weed. He couldn’t have sold Dad the meth.”

She raised her head and gave him a look oozing with contempt. “You’re an idiot, just like your father.”

“Hey! Who—”

She collapsed and began sobbing hysterically. Her cries were so full of anguish that Melek almost apologized on the spot. “You know,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m not always going to be here. I can feel my time coming soon. How can I face my brother knowing that his son befriended his murderer?”

Robby having been a drug dealer wasn’t what bothered Melek so much. It wasn’t even the accusation that he sold meth to his father. No, what brought Melek to the brink of tears was the possibility of their relationship being nothing more than a means of absolution—that their bond was merely built on a foundation of pity.

He rose, ignoring his aunt’s screams as he raced across his plain living room to reach his sneakers by the door. Her protests didn’t phase him. He had to hear the truth from the source’s mouth.

By the time Melek reached Robby’s apartment, he was damn near out of breath. Such deception from someone whom he thought so highly of triggered a sort of fight-or-flight response, providing him enough energy to sprint all the way there.

But as he knocked on Robby’s door, his stamina melted away, leaving behind a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. What started as a spirited desire for truth morphed into a hesitant plea of denial.

Please, not big bro.

Robby opened the door donning an all white sweat suit, rubbing his eyes profusely. “What the hell?”

It immediately became clear to Melek how ill prepared he was for this confrontation. His ability to form words vanished the moment Robby appeared.

“Melek, what are you doing here so late? Is your aunt okay?”

“Did you know my dad?”

Robby became visibly flustered. His faint smile ebbed, shattering his affable demeanor. “Listen, I was going to tell you—”

“So my aunt was right. You just used me to make yourself feel better.”

“What? Melek, please come inside. I’ll tell you everything.”

Melek contemplated bolting in the opposite direction. Robby possessed the gift of gab. Who knows what lies he could weave in an attempt to ‘explain himself’.

Even so, there were moments of sincerity that Melek couldn’t bring himself to dismiss. Moments when Robby’s praise came from a place of genuine appreciation, bordering on awe.

Robby deserved the benefit of the doubt. Melek’s other option was returning to his aunt, who was probably in the middle of bitching to her friends on the phone about how ungrateful he was.

“Your father came to me a few years before his… passing.” Robby was facing one of his CD cabinets, scanning his extensive collection. “I’ve negatively affected too many people’s lives to count, and I know there’s nothing I can do to make up for it.” He turned to face Melek. “But when I saw you in the mall, doing something you love, I saw an opportunity to encourage someone’s passion, so I took it.”

At least he’s telling the truth, Melek thought. “My dad tried as hard as he could to keep his addiction from me. I think he thought he was protecting me or something, but all it did was make me mad. Why didn’t he trust me enough to be honest with me?”

“I was protecting myself. I didn’t want you to hate me. It’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? A teenager whose life I ruined is the only person who knows the real me.”

Melek was unprepared for this level of vulnerability. Robby’s trademark smile was nowhere to be found. It was like seeing a superhero in civilian clothing for the first time.

He sat before a man who inspired a level of confidence Melek once thought to be unattainable. A man who, in only a few months, taught him more about himself than anyone else in his fourteen years of living.

All things considered, the good heavily outweighed the bad.

As naive as he was, even Melek understood that his father’s choices ultimately led to his demise. Robby was no murderer.

“Thanks for the CD player. I can actually hear the lyrics now. Your speakers have way too much bass.”

“What?” Robby initially looked puzzled, then he presented a shadow of a smile. “My speakers are fine. It’s your ears that are the problem.”

Melek chuckled. “How could you talk to your stylist that way? I want a raise.”

“Willing to learn a new dance?”

Melek playfully scratched his temple. “Maybe.”

“So, the cat’s out the bag. Keeping all of this behind your aunt’s back was a huge mistake to begin with. I guess I’m still working on this whole maturity thing.”

“She’s probably going to install bars on my windows. I won’t be able to come here for a while.”

“Whatever you do, don’t take any of your frustrations out on her. She’s gone through a lot.”

“Fine.”

“And don’t worry, your clothes will be safe with me. Hopefully, you’ll be able to return once things die down. The position will remain open until then.” Robby kissed his teeth in frustration. “I wish you had a cell phone so I could get your fashion recommendations remotely. But if I remember correctly, your aunt calls them—”

“Portable porn boxes.”

Robby roared in laughter, with Melek joining him soon after.

Just as he was making his exit, Robby grabbed him by the shoulder. “Whatever happens, I need you to make me a promise: never give up on your passions. For years I abandoned mine and it almost destroyed me. Please, learn from my mistakes.”

***

Melek returned home to his aunt snoring on the couch, her empty rose colored bottle resting on the end table.

He turned the TV off, covered her with a blanket, and tidied up a bit before heading to his bedroom.

With “Blood in the Streets” as his lullaby, he accepted sleep’s comforting embrace.