A Brother. A source of protection and love. Mine however is only an overprotective lard. Love isn't exactly at the top of his list of characteristics. Jon Good, Jon Moxley, Dean Ambrose. Call him whatever you want but he isn't the best person in the world. By that I mean he's the biggest douche to crawl out of Ohio.
"Jay are you ready yet? I have the truck waiting outside." There's a knock on my door and I shut my stereo off. The Nirvana classics were playing.
"I just have to put on shoes." I open my door. I take a pair of LouB thigh high boots off my shelf and sit on my unmade bed.
"You're wearing those?" He crosses his arms and looks at the boots unimpressed.
"Yeah why?" I look at him with a twisted face.
"Just wondering." He breaks his frown and grabs my bags.
"At least I'm wearing jeans this time." I mutter under my breath. The last time I wore these I was wearing a mini cocktail dress. "I'm ready." I walk into the hardwood floor hallway. I was talking to myself apparently because I find the front door wide open and the house keys in the lock. "And bye home." I practically stumble out. Since we've moved I haven't actually had a chance to walk in heels. We've been too busy settling in and unpacking.
I'm only living with him because I don't have anywhere else to go. I basically drove my mom crazy to the point where she shut me out and as for Dad. Oh Dear Old Dad. Jon took care of that man. We'll get to the story some other time -when I feel like killing everyone in my path. And our brother isn't in the best situation nor will he ever be. He's living in some Ohio hood, doing drugs and other toxic shenanigans the last time I checked. That was about six years ago when Jon and I left. He's older than we are meaning he almost had an impact on how our lives turned out.
Luckily we got out by the skin of our teeth and became wrestlers. I however didn't do too well after I shattered my tibia, before that I was pretty damn good, but luckily he flourished. At least one of us was good at something.
"It's about time you showed up." Colby hits the side of the truck and I roll my eyes.
"I've been here the entire time." I scoff. "This is my house after all." I cut around the back of the truck and pull Colby out.
"I don't think so, the last time I checked I'm the one paying the bills." Jon gives me the aux cord. "Light 'er up." I plug it in.
"No, no, no." The cord is snagged from me. "The last time you gave her the cord we had to listen to Sam Smith from Jersey all the way to Hartford." He warns and I sigh.
"Well the last time you got the cord we listened to death metal all the way from Nashville to Dallas." Just thinking of it could give me an aneurysm.
"I say we listen to Hank Williams Junior-"
"No!" We both scold and Jon raises his hands in defense.
"Fine we'll listen to nothing. It's my car so I say what goes." He lays down the law.
"I want to listen to my music though, please Jon." I look over at him and he sighs.
"I was giving you the cord but we've got a douche bag sitting in the backseat." He snatches the cord back and gives it back to me.
"Thank you." I stick my tongue out at Colby and he rolls his eyes. We've got a love-hate relationship, when I say that I mean we can cannot tolerate each other. If you leave us alone we'll fight about the color of the sky and it'll probably end with me punching his neck. I can't stand him.
"Just no gay depression songs." Jon urges and I scoff.
"Excuse you, just because he's gay doesn't mean his music isn't good." I twist my face.
