Fruity Artist

Matt

"So my little brother here has started jogging." Damon patted my chest at lunch the next day, a big smile on his face as our father joined us across the table. The restaurant was far too fancy for my liking, but it was close to their downtown accounting firm and incredibly tasty.

"Did you really? Who are you jogging with? Sophia?" My father picked up the menu and perched his glasses on the tip of his nose.

"Yeah. She finally talked me into it. She's getting a promotion at the station and wants to be in better shape for some of the places they’re sending her."

"Such as?" Damon picked up his water and took a quick sip. The dark circles under his brown eyes let me know quickly that him and Bethany were still not speaking. He slept like a baby when life was good and suffered like crazy when it wasn't. He was exhausted. The tone of his voice was even off. It usually boomed with confidence and drive, but it was barely more than a strained whisper. I wanted so fucking bad to ask what wa