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Brad hides.
It started when he was small. His brother and his father were a unit. Zack, being the clear winner in a contest Brad never consented to entering, missed no opportunity to degrade his brother with the hopeless aim of proving his worth to a man who only cared about measurable success. The family business. Money. Numbers, really, at the end of it.
Brad called her Kate even when he knew he shouldn’t have.
It wasn’t the first time he was punished for empathy but it stuck with him the most. After Zack had killed her, visibly enjoying his superiority over Brad, he handed the bloodied knife to his father. A job well done, it said. Brad just stood there, biting the inside of his cheeks so hard he could taste blood. But it stopped him from crying, which would have hurt even more.
Weakness was lethal.
Perhaps there was a twisted kind of love in the lesson his father meant to teach him.
But none of it came through when he took the knife from Zack and handed it to Brad. Kate’s blood was dripping from the blade still. He didn’t want to touch it. He didn’t want to look at it. Mainly, he wanted to run. The sharp metal was pointing at him. The tip of the blade lingered for a moment. Realistically, it was only a fraction of a second before his father flipped the knife in his hand and offered him the handle but for Brad, for the child that stood before his father, the moment was a piece of eternity etched into his mind.
He is in his forties now and still doesn’t like the sight of knives- keeps them in a drawer in the kitchen he barely cooks in anyways.
He is in his forties now but he was a child when his father pointed a knife at him and said:
“Now you finish it.”
The seconds he just spent standing there were excruciating. Brad swallowed the blood that had pooled in his mouth. Took the knife. He didn’t know what was worse: The fact that he almost did it, almost gutted Kate, or that, in the end, he couldn’t. He was too weak to do it. The knife fell to the ground. The sound of metal clattering on the stone reverberated in his ears. Brad turned and ran.
The farm was big but not big enough for Brad to be able to slip away easily. If there’s one thing children excel at, it’s finding secret spaces. Young eyes are better at seeing the cracks- the hidden corners and special pathways adults gloss over so easily. They can escape into spaces of their own. The problem was Zack. Brad could have easily gotten away from his father, from everything. But his brother grew up alongside him. He knew him well. That’s what scared Brad the most: How easily Zack knew everything about him.
In the end, Zack didn’t end up finding him. There was a shed, out behind the field, mostly forgotten about. That in and of itself wasn’t good enough. Zack had looked for him there. He liked himself in that role- the right-hand man to their father. Brandishing the knife in a way no child should, he had walked between the shelves, talking to Brad.
“I know you’re there somewhere. There’s no point in hiding anyway. Where will you go? What happens at dinner, when you come crawling back to the table? Because I know you will, motu.”
Brad had wedged himself between two pieces of old wood, practically unnoticeable in the far corner of the shed. He was only just slim enough to fit, with no breathing room. Brad didn’t go to dinner that night. Nor the next.
*
Brad had moved out the moment he hit the legal age of adulthood and he hasn’t looked back since. This shouldn’t count as hiding, though. It’s only moving forward. Living, really.
But when he saw Zack on the street one day in a cruel coincidence and ran into a women’s boutique without looking left or right- that was hiding. That was just like it used to be. Brad hated how small it made him feel. How shame filled him for days after. He skipped breakfast (and lunch) for the rest of that week.
His therapist- former therapist, the one he’d been made to see after that incident with the passing out and hospitalization- had said that kind of behavior was an attempt to regain control. But really, all Brad thought about when he starved himself, were those two layers of old wood in the shed. How bad it would have been, had he not been able to fit.
There’s a gap here, somewhere. Isn’t there?
It’s because Brad doesn’t like to think about that time, that year especially. He would prefer for it to fade into the background he won’t let people in on anyways. He’s a brick wall in that regard. Even though Brad thinks he’s made that part pretty obvious, David seems oblivious to it. He’s so often trying to spark conversation about something- including their past. The college experience. But Brad won’t let him into his hiding spot.
He won’t tell him about that time his fencing instructor commented on his weight and how that comment stuck with him for weeks and weeks. He won’t ever tell David about how he’s starved himself into an iron deficiency. He’s not to know about the times Brad passed out at training. And God forbid Brad ever tells David about how they had him admitted. About how even then he refused to eat, how he was so determined to disappear entirely they had to stick a tube in him and force the food in.
The worst thing about it all was the time Zack came to visit him.
There was no love. No affection. Not anything but contempt and smug superiority behind that sweet smile and his kind words when he visited Brad. Zack always made sure others- nurses, other patients, the doctors, saw that he brought flowers. That he was caring. A good support network for Brad. He smiled that sweet smile for as long as there were other people around. The moment they left; the façade dropped. And the cruelties began. Zack didn’t even have to say anything. He just looked at Brad (how it hurt that he saw him) and that fine plastic tube sticking out from his nose, and scoffed, before he left.
Zack had found him in his hiding spot. Brad had not been good enough.
He’s better now, whatever that means. Or at least, Brad eats again. Not always, not every meal, but enough to keep him upright throughout the day and out of that place. For appearances mostly, he’ll even have the occasional desert or sugary drink, despite the fact it’s always followed by an evening of self loathing. That’s just the way it goes.
So when he saw Zack on the street that day, and it forced him back into hiding, he skipped breakfast, sure. But Brad won’t ever let it get to that point again. Besides, there’s work to do.
*
He hid when Poppy called him a soulless money suck. Granted, it wasn’t so much about the insult. If anything, her words reenforced the image he’d worked so hard on. Honestly, he should have been happy about the whole thing. So why wasn’t he?
Brad had spent his whole childhood failing to prove his worth to his father- or anyone for that matter. He had always come up short. But Mythic Quest? This he could do. Brad knew it was childish but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted them to feel it. He wanted the office to know how deeply fucked they were without money- without him. He wanted them to scramble and panic as he spent the day in a café, sipping espresso and ignoring calls from David. And that man called him a lot. His phone screen, lighting up with countless cries for help, gave him a hint of that warmth he didn’t normally let himself chase after.
In his absence, he wanted to be felt.
This, he realized later, was the difference to all the times before. When he hid from his home. From Zack. Brad didn’t want to be found then. He’d dreaded it. He had wished, above all else, to be invisible. It would have been fine back then. He could have lived in his own world.
He was only a child but so convinced he didn’t need to be seen.
That it was the last thing he could ever need. And then, suddenly, he was a grown man who sabotaged his own work only to be seen for once.
There is an untouchable presence to invisibility. It’s not the same as being quiet. It’s quite comparable to being dead. When you’re not there- but important enough- your presence looms. What a nice word that is. Brad likes to loom. That way, you don’t have to say anything, can’t say anything wrong, and you will be perceived anyway. In a way, it makes you seem wiser than you are.
He did get his casino in the end.
*
“It’s a power play”, he said to Jo when he hid once again.
He’s here for Kate. Again. No, not her. His job. His reason.
Brad was scared. Then, and now. From all the emotions he knows, it’s the one he hates the most. On good days, he doesn’t feel a lot. But on that day, that day that wasn’t his birthday God fucking damn it, he wanted to feel angry and yet got nothing but fear instead.
The thing that hurt most was how easily David believed him. How Zack was able to tie him around his finger in a matter of seconds. Jesus Christ, you tell the man he has strong shoulders and he practically melts into a puddle. That just goes to show you shouldn’t open up to anyone because none of them could ever see Zack for who he is. And that also means that no one will ever see Brad, either. Because there is no Brad without Zack. He, his life, is dictated by whatever will get him away from his brother. They are so intrinsically tied together, however fast Brad runs from him, he will end up pulling Zack along. No point. So, he hides.
“Please, Bhaiya.”
Before he strips the company, Zack wanted to make sure he could strip his brother of the last shred of dignity. And he can. He always could. His presence makes Brad crumble so easily it’s almost not fun for Zack. Almost.
The day ended in an uncomfortable fade out. After Zack left, Brad knew he couldn’t focus on any work. And then Jo never returned with the mochaccino which was just as well because he wouldn’t have been able to drink it anyway. It did trouble him though, that Jo didn’t feel the need to check back in with him again. Brad would have liked to be annoyed at that- at the fact his assistant was performing below average. But in truth, he still only had the fear. He didn’t like what the thought of Jo leaving him did to him.
The thoughts got worse. Spiraled.
*
When David returned to his office that evening after meeting with the programmers, he didn’t see Brad at first. It took him a moment to spot the man, cowering under his desk with his knees pulled up to his chest.
Brad had noticed David enter immediately, but there was no time to get out from under his desk and pretend something normal was happening. No time and no strength left in him. He was stuck down there, as well as in his own head. Zack was right. He was just a scared little boy. A pussy. And soon, everyone would know. David knew, now. He would never look at him the same again. But what did it matter anyway? The pig was ripe for slaughter and Zack was coming for it.
Brad watched David crouch down to eye level before clearing his throat, apparently carefully choosing his words. At least, Brad thought David must have been deliberate in his choice of words, considering the long pause before he spoke. That made what came out next even more ridiculous.
“Hey, man. You alright?”
That was what David had landed on after pondering so hard? Laughable.
“Clearly, I’m not. So why don’t you just laugh now and say what you want and then fuck off home?” Brad averted his eyes, suddenly very interested in the details of the flooring in their office.
“What? No, I wasn’t going to- I’m not here to laugh at you. Why would you think that? I can see you’re upset though. Do you want to talk about it?”
Brad didn’t respond. David continued anyway.
“Listen man, I don’t know what happened today and I’m probably out of the loop here. But I see you and I see you’re not happy. Sometimes, it’s hard to talk about the things that upset us. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try but it’s okay if the words don’t always come out right. I want you to be happy but it’s okay to be sad sometimes. We’re all sad sometimes but I would like to help you cheer up, if you’ll let me.”
Brad was dumbfounded for a moment. Then, he turned his head to finally look at David.
“Is that from a fucking parenting advice book?”
“Uh, yeah. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I read those before bed sometimes, they can be very calming actually.”
The absolute absurdity of that response pulled Brad from his drowning spiral. It helped him break the surface for a brief gasp of air. He couldn’t help but laugh at that. At least for a second, his dry laugh was a welcome change to whatever was happening inside his head right now.
“You don’t even have kids. David, this is getting very close to sad. You’re such a fucking dork.”
“Made you laugh, though.”
David was right. He did.
What he did next would stay with Brad forever.
David got up and turned to walk away, at least that’s what Brad thought he was going to do before David closed the door. Then, he knelt down and crawled under the desk.
Brad pretended not to notice how their shoulders were pressed against one another as they sat under his desk in silence. David and his weak shoulders. Strange how that was all Brad needed in that moment, even though he never would have known.
He didn’t know how much time passed like this, or if any passed at all.
Brad had been hiding and he had been found.
David saw him.