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In Praise of Perry

 



What’s strange is, you had no idea Perry was gay. As much as you adored your big brother, this revelation blindsided you. So, when your parents threw him out of the house because of him coming out, you were of course devastated. Perry was your biggest role model. He was always so cool, and so caring. Whether it was him taking you for rides on the Harley, bringing you to his band’s shows, or simply keeping your deepest and darkest secrets; Perry was the best brother a kid could have.


Your parents had left the country for a while: a “business” trip in Canada. Of course you called Perry as soon as they left. About an hour after they left, Perry showed up in his typical bad boy get up. To everyone else on earth, he was the ultimate strong masculine figure. To you, he was the coolest brother, with a heart of gold. He walked through the front door, his trashed black chucks squeaking on the marble floors.


“Little man, I’m so glad you called.” He embraced you in a gigantic hug, his muscular arms constricting you. “I got a new place, so I’m pretty anxious to get my things into it.” You follow your brother into his bedroom, and help him pack a bunch of boxes. Clothes, posters, bedding, and three guitars. “Hey,” he quietly says, “You go on to bed, I’ll finish up here. And, if you ever wanna come and see me, here’s my address. Show up anytime.”


The next morning, you walk into your brother’s now barren room. A tear rolls down your face as you see the stripped bed, and the bare walls where Nirvana and Pearl Jam posters once graced the walls. However, sitting in the middle of the closet was a single cardboard box. Upon closer inspection, you realize it has your name written on it, with a post it note attached:


Little Man, this box is for you. Hope it helps you remember me, and find who you are like it helped me. Love you lil bro. Perry.


Opening the lid, you find a strange amalgamation of things. Perry’s favourite black tank, a pair of jeans, the pair of chucks he wore last night, and an iPod shuffle with earplugs. You quickly run into the bathroom, and strip your nightclothes. Putting on the clothes, you see just how much bigger your brother is than you. His clothes hang baggy from your much different frame. Putting in the earbuds, you hit play on the shuffle. Dirt by Alice in Chains begins playing, one of your brother’s favourites. You begin to notice your head bobbing to the beat of the music as Lane Staley’s voice sings into your mind. Filling it with grunge music. You feel yourself slipping away, quietly retreating onto your brother’s undressed bed. You close your eyes and let the music take you away. Unbeknownst to you, your legs begin to stretch and lengthen, filling out the jeans with lean muscle. The hair on your head retreats back into your head, turning a dark brown. Your torso bulks as you gain a nice, athletic build, a modest but evident 6 pack buckles on your abdomen. Your arms inflate considerably, packing pure meat on them, embossing them in ornate tattoo sleeves. Facial hair haphazardly pokes out of your now lean jawline and handsome visage, two gauged ears now flanking a sexy face. Your feet buckle and fill out your brother’s trashed chucks, filling out the size 12 sneakers. Opening your now brown eyes, a newfound confidence fills your mind. New memories overthrow the old.


You quickly take your trusty old Harley to your twin brother’s place, ready to join him and your bandmates for practice. Wouldn’t wanna miss it for the world.

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