Trump stood in front of Bobby’s door and took a deep breath. His hands were shaking. He picked a little bit at the gauze on his arms and breathed out slowly.
If Chayanne were here, he would make him apologize. And he would keep Bobby from being mean back at him. Even though he deserved it. And Trump wouldn’t have to be scared like this, even though he didn’t know why he was.
If Chayanne were here, he could punish Trump the way Trump wanted to be punished for this.
But he wasn’t, and now Trump had to apologize all on his own. Here and tiny and listening to his brother’s tears in his mind over and over again.
He could do this. He had to do this. Bobby deserved this. Be strong. Don’t cry.
He knocked on the door.
-(@yaaay-propellerhat)
Bobby, currently, was performing very important surgery on two halves of two different colored crayons. His new species of crayon would revolutionize the art industry. Create color combinations never before seen! Just a liiittle mor—a knock interrupts him and causes him to drop the tape in his hand.
He huffs and makes his way over to the door. He snaps the door open. Eyes widening just a bit as he sees who it is, he slams the door just as quickly as he opened it. Nope.