My Brother’s Keeper - Part 7
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Song: The Greatest Showman - The Other Side -- [film clip with subtitles]
The crowd is electric, shouting along with a song they clearly don’t know the lyrics to. Dancing and jumping and vibing to the beat, everyone is living for the performer on stage. Everyone, that is, except for Illinois Harrison.
Though he had snuck out to a few concerts in his teen years, that was always more about rebelling than ever really enjoying the music. Honestly, he’s never really understood the connection a lot of people seem to have with it, and this guy is no different.
Illinois glances towards his baby brother. Yancy is clearly uncomfortable, hands buried deep in his pockets as he does his best to keep out of the way of those around them. Still, just like everyone else, he’s looking at the singer with awe. If he didn’t know any better, Illinois would be worried his brother might be under some kind of spell.
Siren Sharp, as the posters proclaim him, stands front and center on the stage, dressed entirely in black. Black t-shirt, open black button up pushed up at the sleeves, black jeans, black converse, and heavy blue eye make up; all topped off with short black hair. It’s too much.
It’s obvious he’s not new to this. No one works a crowd like that without having some experience with it. The guy’s a born performer. Every vocal kick, every spin, every reach towards the audience as he cradles the microphone; it’s all a ploy to draw them to him and make them believe he loves them. And Illinois seems to be the only one who doesn’t buy it.
He doesn’t know who this ‘Siren Sharp’ is but he’s bad news, and after a couple hours, as the last notes of the night finally play, Ill grabs his brother’s shoulder. The sooner they leave the better. Yancy glares at him and pulls away, instead pushing through the crowd.
“Yancy!” he hisses trying to follow, though he’s not quite as nimble at getting through. When he does catch up, they’re near a door guarded by a member of security.
“Oh no! No!” Illinois throws an arm in front of Yancy and points at him. “You are not going backstage.”
Yancy just stands, one eyebrow raised at his brother, hands still in his pockets. “Is dha’ so?”
“Yancy and guest?” The doorway is open and a young woman stands there, looking at them expectantly.
“Dha’s me.” Yancy scoffs at his brother, easily pushing past him and heading straight through the door. With a groan, Illinois has no choice but to follow, though he pauses in the doorway, sticking his head out again and addressing the member of security.
“You heard me tell him ‘no’, right?” The security guy shrugs. “Helpful.”
The backstage area is pretty hectic, everybody dismantling that what they can get away with while Siren gives his typical goodbye speech on stage. More than once Illinois has to dodge, stop, or catch something as he follows after his swiftly moving brother. He doesn’t know where they’re going, but he has a sneaking suspicion. And boy does he hope he’s wrong.
Sure enough, they wind up by the changing rooms. Their destination, the door at the end has a piece of paper blu-tac’d to it with the name ‘Siren Sharp’. Being so far behind, Illinois actually comes in half way through a conversation.
“-finkin’ of changin’ it.”
“Uh-uh.” The singer peels off the button-up shirt and throws it into the corner of the changing room stretching his arms and adjusting the t-shirt underneath as he turns. “You are forbidden. And this,” he gestures to the strapping man who’s just walked in, “must be your brother.”
“How-?” illinois looks back towards the stage, “How did you beat us here?”
Siren gives a shrug as he runs a hand through his hair. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”
“I thought you were a singer.”
“Steven!” Siren ignores him, bellowing to the open doorway.
“What?!” comes a distant reply.
“Less hair gel next time!”
“Noted!”
Patting his cheek, the singer turns and perches on the edge of his dressing table as he looks between his guests.
“Well you definitely got the looks.” Siren winks at Yancy who bites his lip trying not to smile. Illinois glares at them.
“Why are you flirting with him?” he points between them.
“Well I’d flirt with you but you have these grump lines,” Siren points to the edges of his forehead, “right here. Not really my thing.”
Yancy snorts while Siren smirks and Illinois raises his finger ready to put this punk in his goddamn place. Instead he pauses, takes a deep breath and sighs.
“We’re leaving.” Grabbing his brother by the arm, Illinois tries to pull Yancy towards the door, but the inmate resists.
“I ain’ leavin’.”
“You’ve been out for less than a week and already you’re messing around with a con artist.”
Siren frowns as he crosses his arms. “None taken.”
“I wanna stay!”
Illinois scowls at him but doesn’t let go of his brother, giving a yank to try and make him move. “What do you even think can happen with this, Yancy? You’re a criminal!” The last word is shouted and he watches as it hits Yancy like a freight train, the his younger brother’s face dropping. Illinois immediately regrets it. “I didn’t….”
When Yancy pulls away, Illinois doesn’t fight, letting go of his arm. That’s not how he meant it, but it’s sure what it sounded like. No getting away from that.
“I just,” the adventurer speaks slowly, “want to keep you safe.”
There’s a click from the doorway and the brothers turn to see Siren stood in front of the now closed door. The sound from outside is significantly quieter, though the three of them can definitely hear some kind of music.
Illinois raises an eyebrow at him. “Why did you close the door?”
“For some privacy.” Siren tries to reassure him.
“You best not be trying to kidnap us.”
Yancy isn’t paying either of them much attention, instead glancing around, confused at the increasing sound of music around them. “Do youse guys hear that?”
“I’m trying,” Siren pinches the bridge of his nose, “to offer you a job.”
“And you had to lock the door for that?”
Siren slams a fist against the doorframe beside him.
“Right here, right now
I put the offer out.
Don’t got to chase you down
To make you see it.”
He lowers his hand to lay it against his chest.
“You run with me
And you can keep him free
from all that history, those walls he’s been in.
It’s not quite typical, don’t be so critical
It may sound crazy, you need a little crazy
You can play it ‘sensible’.
Capture eventual.
Or you can come and work for me.”
Siren steps forward, seemingly unbothered by the highly confused looks the brothers are giving him as he looks between them.
“You’ve got a record. I can respect that.” he gestures towards the door, “Half my crew have their own pasts, but it doesn’t matter. In my crew we look out each other.” he pins them both with a firm glare. “We’re family.”
Siren looks to Yancy and continues as he walks towards the inmate,
“Don’t you want to get away
From the same old part you’ve had to play?
Cause I got what you need so come with me and take the ride
I’ll help you live on the outside
So you can do you like you do,
Or you can stick with me
Stay in your cage, or finally take the key.
Oh-!”
Siren has almost reached Yancy when Illinois’s hand on his shoulder cuts him off, forcefully pulling him away.
“Okay my friend let me just cut right in. I hate to tell you but that won’t happen.
So thanks but no,” he shoves the singer away and purposefully steps between them, “It’s time for us to go. We can survive the life you say we’re ‘trapped in’.”
Turning, he tries to take Yancy’s arm again, but the inmate is incredibly confused. Siren is singing, and his brother is talking weird, and frankly he doesn’t want to be near either one of them right now.
“Yancy can-!” Siren begins but Illinois rounds on him, finger raised and slowly advancing on him.
“Now I admire you,
and that whole show you do.
You’re onto something.
Really it’s something.”
He thumbs over his shoulder to Yancy.
“But my brother, he’s got me.
He don’t need you to cut him free.”
Illinois raises his hand to shoo the singer away.
“Go find some other guy to woo.”
The room is silent.
Siren stares at Illinois, mouth partially open in shock. Illinois’s eyes widen slowly as it dawns on him what has just happened. Yancy stares between both of them, genuinely concerned at what the hell he’s just witnessed.
“Are youse guys okay?” the inmate asks.
Siren points at Illinois, “You sang back.”
He shakes his head. “No I didn’t.”
“Why the fuck did you sing back?”
“I didn’t sing!”
“Youse were bof singin’.”
“STEVEN!” Siren shouts to the door and within seconds a frustrated Steven throws the door open.
“For god’s sake Si, I’m-!” his anger dies pretty quick as he sees the worried looks staring at him. “What?”
“It happened again.” Siren says.
“It what?”
“It happened again and this one-” he angrily jabs a finger into Illinois’s chest. “-sang back.”
The adventurer bats his hand away. “Stop saying that!”
“Fuck’s sake.” Steven grabs one of the bottles of water sat just outside the door and head straight for Siren, half-shooing, half-pushing Illinois away. “Why were you singing?”
“I don’t know!” Siren cracks the bottle open and throws it back, swallowing half of it way quicker than he probably should, “I was, I was offering them jobs, and my head felt like...weird and-”
As Illinois steps back, Yancy takes his arm and pulls him back a little, the two of them watching the singer and his friend. The two of them are talking like this isn’t the strangest thing they’ve seen, which somehow makes it seem even weirder.
“Why were youses singin’?” Yancy mutters, not wanting them to overhear.
“I don’t know.” Illinois isn’t sure how to explain. It was like an instinct, only more base. It hadn’t even occurred to him he was doing it until after it was over. There was no thinking, no questioning, it just happened and honestly, it kind of left him feeling a little exposed. “They don’t seem to either.”
Both Siren and Steven are hissing at each other in not-quite-hushed voices, but there’s definitely a panic to their tone as they glance to Illinois. When their eyes meet, they all look away.
“Ill.” he turns to Yancy, his brother seeming a little conflicted as he speaks, “Maybe havin’ a job ain’ such a bad idea.”
Illinois inclines his head. He’s loathe to admit it, but Yancy’s right. Even with luck on their side, there’s only so far the two of them will get before some kind of authority, whether cop or bounty hunter, catches up to them. That is an encounter that won’t end well for anyone. Hiding in plain sight could serve them pretty well. Who knows? Maybe that luck of his brought them here for exactly this reason.
Illinois turns to the others.
“Sharp,” he calls, drawing both their attention to him, “Tell me about these jobs you’re offering”
