There was fifteen minutes until the performance, your first live one, and your brother had changed the set list five times.

Liam, the middle brother, was a worry wart to say the least, and was currently pacing and scribbling barely legible words on his clipboard.

liam: “so if we transition your solo in ‘dive bar in 89’ to ‘anarchism’s Antichrist’ then we can-“

Nolan, the eldest, interrupts him

nolan: “cool yourself, Liam. You can’t just change everything now. It’s too late, so just calm down a bit man.” nolan lays back on a love seat in the green room

Zari: “it just makes things more tiring, too complicated.” zari, your older brother by only a year, says from where he’s resting his head in his arms