"You've got a lot to shit to figure out, right... I'd still like to leave the city at some point.You might be alright walking around, reminiscing about the good times with Alex, but it's like a fucking nightmare for me. I can't sleep, I can't get back to a normal life, I... I just want to get out and recuperate somewhere, alright? Maybe to your Dad's, maybe we'll go see my brother, I... I don't know, I just hate it here."
Although, there was something that threw a spanner in the works: the arrival of Timothy's older brother, Benjamin. By the morning, having spent the previous night trying to integrate back into normality, Sandra had been feeling relatively... well, happy. She was far from being back to her usual self, that was certain, but she felt far more relaxed than she had done for a while. She had reached a point where going to the station didn't bother her too much, and she'd spent most of the morning getting herself ready just to put on a defiant front. She wasn't going to walk on in there looking like a victim; she was determined to wear her usual cutesy fashion and show that she was moving on with her life as best she could.
And then Benjamin turned up at Timothy's door, suitcase in hand and, without really introducing himself to a bewildered Sandra, strolled on in with a loud whistle in approval.
If Sandra knew the backstory, she'd never have let Benjamin over the line into the apartment. Timothy had only briefly mentioned he had an older brother, but he hadn't relayed any details. He hadn't mentioned, for instance, that Benjamin had been the wayward son, the one who dabbled in selling drugs, who tormented his parents and went as far as to pull out a shotgun one night in the hopes of killing them all. He'd disappeared when he was 20 once the charges against him were dropped, but here he was, nine years later, stood in his little brother's apartment with every intention to stay, if the suitcase at his side was anything to go by.
"Where's the nerd, then? You his girlfriend? I always thought he was, y'know, gay. But hey, if he's changed his mind on that, I don't care," shrugged Ben, flopping to the couch and tugging his biker boots off, tossing them casually to the side. He had left the family home as a young man, and even though he was almost 30 now, he still had the same wide, boyish grin on his face. He might not be exquisitely handsome like Alexander, but he definitely had something about him that would catch attention. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges with the scattering of tattoos he'd had during his teenage rebellion phase (where he was mostly high off his face), and his dyed platinum hair was undone and messy from rolling out of bed that morning, but... well, he definitely was handsome. Just in a different sort of way.
"I-- I think he's getting dressed, we were off to the station--"
"Ah, yeah. The whole fashion designer thing, right? That's a bummer. Sorta why I'm here, some brotherly support. Our Dad said I ought to come and, y'know, be the supportive big brother."