Why can't I be you? | Self para
Enjoy Spencer going from sad boy to ‘manic-depressive-master-manipulator’ in the space of 8 years. Couldn’t date this but it starts in 2000 and ends in 2008. Thought it was time I retold this fucked up story 🙃
He remembers finding out that Daniel had a brother.
It’s a few days after Spencer’s seventh birthday and Dan’s being particularly cold. He knows that teenagers get this way sometimes, but today they’re all walking on eggshells and Spencer doesn’t know why.
He says, “maybe this will help,” as he hands over a napkin containing one of the left over slices of his birthday cake, and Dan snatches it without a word.
Their mother stands in the doorway in her dressing gown, arms crossed as she observes. “Say thank you, Daniel,” she says. It’s not a command really, just a gentle reminder.
Dan just grunts and drops onto a dining chair before he takes a bite. Spencer is looking between Dan and his mom cautiously, not quite sure if he should say ‘it doesn’t matter’ or let his mom teach Dan his manners. Spencer’s noticed that he struggles with those some of the time.
“Dan. Say thank you to your brother.” Still no response. “Daniel.”
“He’s not my brother!”
Spencer jumps in his spot. Suddenly he feels embarrassed as he looks towards his mother again for help. He’s not sure exactly what he wants help with, but he doesn’t know how to respond either. Or if he’s allowed to.
He’s taken aback by the remark - even though, in all the years he’s known Dan, he’s always had little patience towards Spencer anyway. Spencer’s not even sure they’ve had more than a handful of pleasant conversations.
Dan gets mad when Spencer nags their mom too much and he’ll will never forget that one time his dad asked if he wanted to tag along for their weekly fishing trip and Dan went berserk. He says that Spencer is “a needy, spoilt brat that gets all of the attention.” Well, he only said it once, but that’s the only time he actually explained why he was mad at him other than “you’re annoying,” so it’s sort of all he’s working with. Spencer always tries to bare it in mind, but he’s not sure Dan would like him much anyway.
Now though, in the kitchen, Daniel’s outburst still has him shaken. It feels sort of like rejection.
Spencer is sent into the other room which he thinks is unfair at first because he didn’t do anything wrong. But a short while later he hears the muffled sobs of his brother (not-brother) coming from the kitchen and he’s glad to have left.
Later on, his mother sits on the edge of his bed and says, “Dan just misses his brother. I know it’s hard to understand, but it’s even harder for him. Okay?”
Spencer nods but he thinks ‘no, not okay’ because he’s not sure he even knew that Dan had a brother. “He won’t see him for a while now, so we’ll all need to be extra kind to him. I know you can do that.”
Spencer knows he can too, but the next few weeks are rough. He tries extra hard to be kind to his brother. He even leaves a note under his pillow one night, all about how great of a brother he is; you’re a good brother because you always finish my dinner and you make funny jokes. I like all of your shoes even though they’re too big for me. You are very tanned and also you have a nice bedroom even if it’s messy. - Or something to the same effect.
Dan says “stay out of my room and away from me.”
Spencer decides it’s best to just give him what he wants after that.
He’s still not sure why Jacob moved away when Dan was thirteen. They used to see each other all the time until then, apparently, but Spencer didn’t learn any of this until much later on. His younger self had no idea that Jacob was any more than a friend. He supposes that explains why Dan never let Spencer meet him. Dan doesn’t like to talk to him about Jacob because he likes to keep him just for himself, but sometimes lets things slip.
He remembers one night that same year, listening into Dan’s room at 3am as he mutters into his phone, drunk after sneaking in through the back door to dodge the burglar alarm.
He hears “Jake it’s me,” in a hushed breath and something along the lines of “I just was telling a girl about you and — woops. At a party and we— She thinks you sound so cool. She… And I was telling her about you and the time we buried all of that booze in the back yard.” He laughs into the phone, and Spencer hears it fade into a sigh. “I’ve been missing you so you should call me back in the morning. Maybe you can meet my friends. They think you sound cool too. D’you remember that time we…”
Spencer goes back to his own room. His chest aches.
Spencer thinks he understands how Dan feels, about wanting to keep his old family separate from his new one, because Spencer wishes he could keep Dan all to himself. Maybe it’s because they’ve never been close, or maybe it’s because he’s never had a brother, but knowing that Dan has a separate life with Jacob makes his skin burn.
Spencer just wants to be Dan’s favourite person, he thinks. He told Dan that he was his once, but Dan just said, “that’s like me saying my favourite person is Marcia from The Brady Bunch.”
“You love the Brady bunch.”
“Yeah but that doesn’t mean I know anything about them and it certainly doesn’t mean they give a damn about me.”
He wonders if Jacob tries as hard as he does.
The morning after Dan’s drunken phone call, Spencer asks, “can I hang out with your friends some time?”
His brother says no. “They’d think you were lame,” he adds as he rubs his temples.
Spencer recovered quickly. “They don’t even know me.”
“Trust me, they’ve heard enough.”
Now it’s the summer of the same year and they’re sat in the garden on deckchairs. Spencer’s eyes itch but he wants to stay outside because… Well he’s not really sure why.
Dan’s been on the phone for almost an hour. He acts as if Spencer isn’t there, just like usual, as he grumbles “yeah, I was hoping for some peace and quiet but the saint followed me out,” and then laughs at whatever Jacob says in reply.
Spencer just stays quiet, scrapes the last of the ice cream from his bowl.
Spencer’s learnt now that Dan’s angle on him won’t change. The realisation happened so fast that he’s not even sure when it did, but somewhere along the line, Spencer stopped caring. Just woke up one morning and thought enough is enough.
Somewhere in the pit of his stomach there’s a dark space, made empty just for any speck of hope -a just in case space- but he barely even feels it anymore. He’s had his fair share of outbursts now, towards Dan particularly, and he understands what it’s like to want to be alone while feeling scolded by absence.
When Dan does finally hang up, his ice cream is more like a milkshake. He complains about this and when Spencer grumbles that it’s his own fault, Dan says, “can’t you just go sit inside? I came out here to be alone.”
“Why don’t you like me?” It leaves his mouth before it even enters his brain, it seems, because he’s positive he wasn’t thinking it. Positive he doesn’t actually care.
Dan shrugs at first, poking at his melted ice cream. “Why do you need me to?”
“You’re my brother.”
“Is that what you think?” Spencer shrugs in response. Is that what he thinks? He’s not sure just lately. “You’re so clueless.”
“Dan.”
He’s not sure he hears him at first, too scared to raise his voice in fear of waking their parents or--... It’s a few nights before New Year’s eve and they’re all staying at their dad’s best friend’s house. Mr Shaw has been lonely since his divorce -that’s what Spencer’s dad had said- so it’s nice to be with him as they enter 2008.
Mr Shaw is fine. Spencer’s not quite as comfortable around him as he used to be, but he doesn’t see him as often these days, so it can’t be helped. Mr Shaw talks to Spencer like they’re school buddies; he likes to ask about relationships and how Spencer dresses and if it gets him much luck with the girls at school. He thinks Spencer looks and acts mature for his age, and he asks to be called Oliver because they’re pals. It feels forced for Spencer to call him by his first name, though. A little unnatural.
He kissed him.
In his room, with everybody else sleeping at the other end of the hall. Oliver slipped into his room and they laughed about something that Spencer can’t remember now and then Oliver kissed him. Or someone kissed someone. Did Spencer kiss him?
He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.
He nudges his brother were he sleeps, next door to their parents’ room, on the other side of the house.
“What?” Dan’s all groggy as he rubs his head. “Get outa here.”
He did this last night too. Last night he was scared of the sounds in the corridor.
“I heard a noise again. You must be right; this place is haunted,” Spencer half-lies as he fidgets on his feet beside the bed.
Tonight every creak and groan in the house sounds suspiciously like footsteps crossing the space between Mr Shaw’s room and his own. An hour of waiting for the man to open his bedroom door was enough for Spencer to wanna leave the room.
“Are you sure you’re not just hearing things?” Dan asks as he pulls his sheets back and lets Spencer crawl into bed beside him. “Y’know I was only kidding, right?”
“I don’t like it,” he mutters and reaches behind himself to grab for Dan’s arm, to pull it around himself.
“Your room?” Dan huffs. “Fine. You can sleep here until we leave, but–”
“The house. I want to go home.”
His brother breaths out a laugh against the back of his neck before he pulls his arm away, turning over like he had the night before. “He’s a good guy, Spencer.”
That’s about as far as Dan’s comforting goes. Spencer continues to sleep in his bed but few words are exchanged within the room after that night. In the day time, Dan hates him just as much as always. Especially when he loses signal and is forced to acknowledge his company.
Spence tries not to cling to the time they spend together at night, when Dan falls deep enough into his sleep that Spencer pressing his forehead to his back doesn’t stir him.
When they get home, Spencer tries to crawl into his bed there too. Maybe that’s something that Dan’s not reserved for Jacob.
Dan tells him to grow up and sleep in his own room. That’s the end of that.
“What do you mean he was older? Do I know him? Is it—“
“Stop asking questions.” Spencer’s eyes are glued to the blanket in his lap, legs crossed on his bed as he leans against the wall that it stretches along. “Why do you even care, Dan? You never cared before.”
“You were having a panic attack.”
Spencer doubles over to drop his face into his hands. “I was not.” Was he? “I was just freaking out,” he mumbles into his palms as he feels Dan lean back beside him.
“So why did you do it?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to. He wanted to. Get out of my-”
“Spencer, you’re fourteen.” Dan nudges him, unconvinced that he has his attention. “What does older mean?”
He drags his hands over his face, rubs his eyes. He feels claustrophobic. Overwhelmed. “Late twenties,” he admits, and Dan’s face softens in some kind of relief, but then shifts back into a frown as it processes. “But he’s— He’s alright. Nice. He likes me, says we should hang out more. He isn’t some kind of—“
“You’re so fucking stupid,” Dan cuts him off, and Spencer stays silent after that, not really sure what he expected. He doesn’t want to say anything else anyway and is prepared to ask Dan to leave again when his brother wraps an arm over his shoulders and pulls him to his side. “Next time, you come to me. We’ll talk about it. You’re more transparent than you think, Spencer.”
Dan smacks the back of his head just in case Spencer forgot they hated each other.
“Sometimes he tells me I worry him, but he looks at me like I make him sick.”
Spencer’s therapist has a new chair and it’s real nice. When he leans back the chair moves with him. He’s been bouncing back and forth for twenty minutes now, watching the ceiling throughout their conversation because the eye-contact makes him embarrassed, they’ve learned.
“I’m sure you’re misreading him,” she says. “It seems like you’ve reached a real turning point with your brother.”
A small laugh escapes him. He’s not quite sure they’re brothers just yet. He used to use that word so easily. Now it sticks out of every sentence it finds itself in, like it doesn’t quite fit. He tells people about his brother sometimes and it feels like he’s telling a white lie.
In church, back when Spencer was younger -too young to sit in the canteen with the adults but too young to play with the other kids- he’d get stuck with a hand full of boys and girls his own age. They’d all mingle and ask questions and feel too care-free to wrap their heads around boundaries and personal space, leaving Spencer feeling awkward in their company - even as he felt desperate to fit in with them. That’s how it feels with Dan these days, and he really fucking hates himself for it.
He hates that Dan’s affection has come too quickly for him to appreciate it the way he’d always expected himself to.
Sometimes Spencer pushes himself just like he does in most other situations. He sits closer than necessary to his maybe-brother when they’re alone and tells him things he doesn’t feel comfortable sharing with him, because he thinks they might be things normal brothers do.
Sometimes Dan goes as far as to say “I’m glad we had this conversation,” or, “I’m glad we did this,” and it makes Spencer want to cry and he doesn’t know why.
“I wish I knew what changed.”
“Have you had the conversation with Dan?” Sometimes she looks genuinely interested - not the kind of hyper-intrigue that gives away the falseness of it all.
“No. I’m scared of what he’ll say.”
He feels her do that thing she does, where she nods, pretending to take it in when she’s actually trying to figure out what to say next. She settles for, “what is it that you’re worried he’ll say?”
“That he feels sorry for me.”
After that night in his room, Daniel really does feel like a new addition to his life. Like he’d grown up alone, or with a ghost in the room next door to his. He feels like after that night, Dan just… showed up like he’s returned from a war, paranoid and clingy and overprotective.
Dan doesn’t live at home anymore, but when he visits, Spencer hears him asking his parents if he’s been doing okay. If they’re sure. If he seems happy and if he’s been bringing friends home. He still doesn’t feel like a brother but he doesn’t feel like a friend either. He’s certainly not his enemy anymore.
It feels like his purpose is to be Spencer’s guardian or nothing at all. Like he owes something to him. Spencer wonders what it is that made his ‘not-quite-brother’ feel such guilt.
It’s uncomfortable for a while, after years of the opposite, but Spencer learns to let him be.
There was an incident at school. It was stupid. He hooked up with somebody in the bathroom; a lousy hand-job followed by a threat to keep him quiet. He’s used to it, but today he skipped mass and he feels dirty all over. He’s stood over a sink in the bathroom and he can’t breathe. He’s on the phone to Dan but he can’t even remember calling him. He says, “please, come pick me up,” and Dan tells him he’ll finish work early.
Dan apologises to the woman at the front desk for the short notice, but Spencer “really does need to see a doctor today.” In the car, he hands Spencer the rosary that he never uses, left to gather dust around his rearview mirror. Spencer feels embarrassed but he takes it and Dan says says, “stop doing this to yourself.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He’s long since caught his breath but, as he watches himself in the sun visor mirror, his eyes are bloodshot and the skin around his nose is blotchy and red too. He chews on his nail, flips the visor back up and watches out of the window as Dan pulls out of the parking lot.
“You told me about him. Last week, you said there was a kid at school that’s been messing with you. You said that you know he’d be ‘up for it’ if you-“
“Stop,” Spencer groans and Dan drops his single-handed quotations. “You don’t get it. Nobody speaks to me at this fucking school. Nobody even looks at me unless-”
“Six months ago you’d have killed for that,” and yeah, Spencer can’t argue with that. “Listen. Next time, you come to me, okay?” Spencer’s heard it all before. “This shit gets… destructive. You know that.”
Even now that he cares, Daniel sometimes speaks to Spencer like he can’t stand him.
They fall into a tense silence. Spencer’s holding his breath, because it’s better than breathing loud and fast and pathetic like he was before. It’s also better than saying what’s on his mind; that Dan’s hardly a reliable option when Jacob’s in town, which he has been for two weeks now. He’s moved back, but Spencer only knows because he overheard his mother speaking to Dan over the phone last week.
Dan’s tapping the steering wheel like he has something he wants to say, but he doesn’t until they reach his apartment complex.
The younger of the two is reaching for the door when Day says, “Spencer,” in a tight voice. “Jake’s coming over later.”
Spencer’s stomach turns. Really, he thinks, today of all days? He’d spent the best part of his adolescence desperate to meet the mystery brother, to weigh himself up with the man, see who comes out on top. Now he can’t think of anything worse.
“… So I’ll take you home before he gets here.”
Except that.
“I- I can’t stay?” Dan’s getting rid of him to spend the evening with Jacob. Dan doesn’t want to share whatever he has with his brother with Spencer. Dan doesn’t want Spencer around to ruin the time he gets to spend with him.
“… No, I mean.” He stutters, mouth opening and closing as he swallows each instinct. “Forget it.” He shakes his head. “Sure. Sure you can.”
Two hours later and Spencer’s wearing sweats and t-shirt that are just a little too big and is sat tense on the couch as Dan lets his brother in. He hears a hushed conversation in the hallway. He hears Dan say sorry and a voice he doesn’t recognise reply, “no, man. No, it’s cool.”
He hears rustling -an embrace, maybe- before the two of them enter the room.
Jacob doesn’t look much like the photographs Spencer’s seen. His face isn’t as slim as he’d thought and his hair is shorter. He’s more tanned that Dan, but he isn’t as handsome. He smiles and Spencer’s brain screams bad.
“Spence, this is uh. This is my brother, Jacob,” Dan introduces the man formally. “Jake, this is Spencer...”
Spencer holds his breath. He almost says the words for him; my brother. This is Spencer, my brother. He doesn’t. None of them do.
“Spencer, I’ve heard a lot,” Jake says in a deep voice, still smiling and it all feels so genuine and Spencer hates him.
“You too.” He feels sick. He knows nothing about him, except that he’s just as tall as Dan, has muscles and the same smile. He looks like he could take care of his brother. Dan looks at him like he has.
Spence doesn’t want to think of all the dreadful things Dan’s had to say about him over the years.
“Sorry I’m not very… Put together,” he laughs nervously and is sure to add, “Dan had to lend me some clothes.”
He so badly wants Jake to falter at the fact that Spencer is wearing Dan’s clothes, because that means they’re close and comfortable and Dan takes care of him. That means that they don’t worry about keeping up appearances for each other, because they grew up together so why would they? Dan and Jacob share the same genes but Dan and Spencer share the same clothes and childhood home and love for milkshakes with Funfetti sprinkled in them.
He just says, “don’t worry about it,” and by the time he’s taken a seat in the armchair, Spencer’s considering hitting his head against the bathroom sink or causing a casualty with a kitchen knife or finding the nearest plastic bag to suffocate himself with.
Dan would surely have to ask Jacob to leave.
He’s heard a lot? What has he heard?
He shakes the thought. All of them. Instead, he sits in silence until Dan comes back with a beer for himself and his brother, and a glass of water for Spencer. He and Jake fall into a conversation almost immediately, and Spencer continues to feel as if he’s ready to crawl out of his skin.
He fakes his exhaustion and shuffles up to rest his head on Dan’s shoulder as he mentally estimates the difference in distance between himself and Dan in comparison to Dan and Jake. He wins by at least three feet. Two when Dan pushes him away from his shoulder.
“I think about him in that way sometimes. It’s different, though.”
“Different how?”
Spencer has a new therapist now. He usually has a hard time finding comfort within the pale beige walls, but today he has a lot to say. He’s been looking forward to this session since he failed to say all of the things he wanted to say last time.
“With other people it’s about... Feeling powerful. Brave and exciting. I like feeling like I’m doing something I shouldn’t do or want to do.” Spencer knows she’s heard this before in different words - she’s the one that brought it to his attention in the first place. “With Dan it’s... I want him to want me the most.”
She nods. “Could this be in relation to his brother coming back?”
“Definitely. I know it is. When I think about them together it makes me wanna... Do stupid things to keep his attention.”
“Could you expand on these things?” She’s frowning now. They’ve not touched on this before.
“Sometimes I wonder, ‘if we just did it, would it make me feel the way I’ve wanted to feel with him since… Forever?’ Like if Jake’s gonna be his brother, then I’ll have to be something else, or like, something even more. You know?
“I don’t know. Like… Like just a few weeks ago we were all at Dan’s apartment. They were talking about things I didn’t understand and it was like I wanted to slit my own throat just to get his attention.”
She never takes notes, but she glances at her voice recorder as if making a mental note of it. “And now?”
“And now I just want to be everything to him that Jake isn’t, so there’s no room for anybody else.”
“Would you say that it’s possessive?”
“Yeah. But I think sometimes he feels it too.”
“Come on Spencer. I came here to see you. You don’t have to-“
“As if.” Dan tries to jump in again, but Spencer’s not finished. “I spent over a decade trying to be a brother to you and you gave me nothing. And it finally worked, I thought— I thought we were actually there, but then it only took a year for you to get over it.”
Because he’s moving away. Well, thinking about it, at least. Jacob is bored of Brockton already and Dan says that he is too.
His vision is blurred. Fuck, why is he crying? He doesn’t have time for this, he has places to be. Places being with Oliver in East Bridgewater in less than an hour. He’d told Dan he was spending the night with a friend. Turns out Dan’s not stupid. He is, however, reluctant to allow it.
Perhaps Spencer was being cruel when he let the man’s age slip, not-so-unintentionally.
Spencer’s not entirely sure how the argument came to this, though. He’d made a hasty remark about going somewhere where he doesn’t have to compete for attention. It was petty and Dan was insulted initially. Now though, he’s trying to defend himself. Spencer has a way of making things work like that.
“You know it was hard for me to… To wrap my head around. You don’t know what it’s like to remember a family that you can’t have anymore. You don’t even remember your last name. It was confusing for me. I didn’t think I needed this family, because I already had one. I have one. And I mean, Rosa isn’t... She isn’t what I remembered, but Jake-”
“So it’s just me that’s not enough for you.”
He wonders what the transition was like, going from ‘mom’ to ‘Rosa’ and from ‘Anne’ to ‘mom’.
“No. Spence, no, it’s not like that. You’d do the same.” Even as he defends himself, Dan looks guilty. He shifts on his feet, still stood between Spencer and the door - a rock and a hard place.
“No, I wouldn’t. I don’t need any more than what I have. I’ve been alone all summer. All I needed was my older brother to talk to-”
“So did I!” The man throws his arms in the air in frustration. “Except I didn’t see him for years, Spencer. You have no fucking idea. Where is this coming from?”
He can already feel it happening, though. Dan drifting away as he begins to spend more time with his brother again - his real brother - while they discuss their plans to move away together. And then maybe in a decade or two, he’ll come back and meet with Spencer for coffee, just like he did with Jacob, and they’ll either talk like he never left, or like they’re strangers.
The inside of his cheek stings from biting it to keep his face blank. He releases the flesh in favour of grinding his teeth, shaking his head as he shrugs. “Then go and see him.” Spencer wipes furiously at his eyes as he squares back up to Dan, attempting again to pass him but is stopped by a vice grip on each arm.
“I called Jake. I cancelled. I’m here now.”
“Tell him you changed your mind. Tell him how much you miss him.” Spencer scoffs, but his cheeks are already wet again.
“Stop. Don’t cry.”
His breath is falling in shudders, hands shaking as he pries himself from Dan’s grip. “I feel like I have nobody. Like I’m on my own.” Dan pulls him to his chest as Spencer sputters out, “why do I feel like you’re breaking my heart?”
“I’d do anything for you. What we have, it’s unconditional. I’m not replacing you, just like you didn’t replace him.”
Spencer’s pushes himself away, wiping his eyes again.
“Why are you being like this?”
“Because you’re all I have,” he sulks, finally slipping past Dan as the man recovers from their embrace. “I don’t have a back-up like you do.”
“Please don’t go with him, Spencer.”
“We’ll I’m not needed here.” Dan tried to find his comeback, but Spencer continues before he does. “I wish you stayed cold.” He’s not sure whether or not he means it.
Even when they finally clicked, their relationship was never a brotherhood. He’d been lying to himself; Spencer knows that. But he always liked to tell himself it was more, that years of distance somehow becoming what they have now is proof of that.
“You said you needed your brother and that’s not me. What am I then? Do I even compare?” He already knows all of the right answers to his questions. Spencer has him in a corner and they both know it. He simply chooses not to respond.
Spencer reaches for the door handle and Dan’s not trying to stop him anymore. It’s full of intention when he says, “he’ll be mad if I’m late,” and Dan tugs him back and presses his lips to Spencer’s. He has a palm against the back of his head as he presses him into the door, and the other hand tangled in Spencer’s collar.
He tugs his hair just enough to keep his attention as he says, “I swear I’ll kill every motherfucker that lays a hand on you,” and the door clicks shut again.
