I tossed my towel down and slipped on my boxer briefs and jeans and then grabbed my watch, fastening it to my wrist.

My phone started ringing. I picked it up, seeing the name on the screen.

I steeled my jaw, annoyed. Talking to my brother always pissed me off. However, he rarely called, so curiosily nipays at me. I slid my finger over the screen, answering it.

”Trevor," I said, holding the phone to my ear.

”You know, Michael.." he started, not even saying ‘hello.’ "I always thought this brotherly connection you and I were supposed to have would eventually form." I narrowed my eyes, staring ahead at nothing as I listened.

"I thought, maybe when I grew up, we'd have more in common or we'd speak to each other in more than two word sentences," he went on. "I used to try to blame it on you. You were cold and distant, and you never gave us a chance to be brothers."

I gripped the phone in my hand, standing frozen. The voices of the players around me faded.

"But then you know what?" he asked, a sharp edge to his voice. "When I was about sixteen I realized something. It wasn't your fault. I honestly hated you as much as you hated me. For the same...single... reason.”

I clenched my teeth, lifting my chin.

"Them."

"them?" I fished.

"You know who I'm talking about," he stated. "they’re always had their eyes on you, wanting you."

I sneered, shaking my head. "Trevor, your partner is your issue."

Not that they were his partner anymore- I'd heard about the break-up-but I liked thinking of them as his. It would make all of this so much sweeter.