Damn!

The stupid car was supposed to go to my right! My car does a double loop and flops down onto the race. Brian chuckles at my side and I turn around, looking at him for a second before focusing back on my game.

I have to beat him. Surprisingly enough, Brian is winning four to three and I just need to tie it up so I can beat the crap out of him. I want to wipe that smug smile from his face. He's my best friend, that's for sure, but I hate him whenever he wins. I press the accelerator as much as I can without breaking the damn thing but it doesn't help, seeing Brian going through the Finish Line and winning the game.

"AHA!" Brian stands up from the floor with a jump, turning around and looking down at me. "I won! I WON! I won Carter! How about that?"

He starts doing his very weird happy dance as I turn the game off.

"Asshole," I mutter under breath, but loud enough for him to listen.

Brian only glares at me. "Complain all you want Nick, but I beat you. You're history. Accept it."

I give him my evil eye, but stay quiet. I won't fall in his trick. He wants me to get mad at him for beating me, so then he can say I'm a sore looser. Well, I won't give him the pleasure. I smile roughly, and then walk over the fridge, getting out a Corona.

"You shouldn't drink Nicky," I hear a voice say. I turn around and see Kevin walking out of his bedroom, papers in hand. He doesn't even look up at me, his whole attention drawn to his papers. "You ain't old enough."

I open my mouth to complain, but Kevin cuts me out. "I don't want to hear it Nick. You're twenty. Put that beer down and have a coke."

I usually get in a fight with Kevin when it comes down to me drinking, but I'm not in the mood right now. Grudgingly, so Kevin knows I do not agree with this, I pick up the coke. At least now I can have a coke. Kevin usually starts rambling about how coke damages my teeth. Like I actually care.

Kevin's got this very annoying tendency to think that he's the father of the four of us.

He's tight with the four of us, but he's always more strict with me. He can be serious with the guys and then sweet talk me.

I hate that of him.

He's practically raised me since I was thirteen, I can give him that much, but even now that I'm not a child, he keeps acting like I'm the thirteen year old kid he first met.

I walk over to the couch and sit down, looking at my coke.

Fuck him.

I don't want a coke; I want a Corona. I'm nineteen for God's sake! AJ's been drinking since the band started and he was only fifteen and I don't remember Kevin giving him so much pain.

AJ chuckles slightly at Kevin's behavior with me and picks up a Corona. "Sorry kiddo," he says with an evil grin on his lips and I know he's not sorry at all. "You gotta listen to Kev. You aren't old enough."

"Fuck you."

"Nick," Kevin's voice is stern and he's still looking at his damn papers. How can his voice have that totally mother hen effect on someone when you aren't even looking at that someone?

I clench my teeth together, biting back the words. If I say anything, he's gonna start his ever present and totally predictable speech about how I shouldn't curse, about how I'm too young to be cursing and it doesn't become me.

Stupid AJ.

AGH!

I take a deep breath just before taking a sip of my coke. My head is burning and it feels like I could kill someone right now and don't feel any shred of guilt.

He's an asshole, that's for sure.

I hear AJ's chuckles once again and I follow him with my eyes. He sits on the other side of the room, opening his drink and looking at me as he takes a sip. He wants me to get on his case. He wants me to tempt Kevin's humor today.

AJ can be a total jerk when he wants to be. The idiot knows exactly what buttons to push just to have you on the edge of self-destruction.

Hope you choke on your beer moron.

Howie looks over at AJ, squinting his eyes and I know what he's trying to do. Don't bother D. Not today. It won't really help. No matter what you say to AJ or then say to me trying to justify him, he's already on my shit list. I'm far too angry with him to listen to you being your rational self. And even if you do try it, I'm going to send you to hell as well.

I feel the couch shifting under the weight and turn around to see Brian giving me a small smile.

Fuck, not you too Brian. I'm so not in the mood.

"You wanna play again?"

That's Brian's code for Lets do something so it takes your mind of murderous thoughts at the moment. He's good at this kinda of thing, at trying to get me to call down. Eight years together has made him the best. That and the fact that unless he learned really fast, we wouldn't have been able to stay best friends for this long.

Still, it's not good enough. Not today.

Not now.

"Don't think so Rok. I'm not in the mood."

Leave it like that Brian. For your own good and the preservation of the group.

He looks at me for another split of a second before nodding. At least the boy has also learned when to back away. Brian stands up from the couch and walks over to the bed to sit with D, who's zapping channels.

I take another sip of the coke. AJ laughs again. I tighten my hold on the can. Stupid moron. Who the hell does he think he is?

Just another year, I tell myself. Just a year and five months and I'll be able to drink without any of them making fun of me. Just another year.

I've taken to tell myself that as a mantra. Kevin won't have any right to tell me what to drink. He doesn't have any right now either, but it's like he's self inflicted the right. He's taken the job of group dad so much to the heart; I don't think any of us could take it out of him even if we tried.

"After the venue, we're coming straight to the hotel," I hear Kevin say. I turn around and he's finally stopped paying attention to that bunch of papers of him to care about his friends. "We've got an interview at eight am, so we're going to turn in early," he continues, knowing the schedule by heart. "After that, we'll get back to hotel for a couple of hours. Nick?"

I turn around and look at him. "What?"

"After that, you've got another interview and photo shoot with an Spanish magazine. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours."

"No!" I complain, probably sounding like a kid. AJ chuckles again and I turn around to glare at him. Jerk. I turn to look back at Kevin. "I wanna get back here as well. I don't wanna do an interview."

"I'm sorry Nicky, but you have to." Kevin's voice lowers a little, his usual tone whenever he's trying to convince us of doing something that's for our own good.

"I don't wanna."

He gives me a small smile. The very same one that melts my heart but right now it only gets on my nerves. "I'm sorry, but they requested the interview.

"Isn't there something you could do?" I was at the end of my rope already.

"Nick..." his voice was pleading with me as well. "Please. It won't take long."

"But--"

"Nick," he says, his voice stern.

I bite back my words. I sigh. Damn, I want to complain again, but it won't do any good.

I've never liked doing this kind of interviews. I'm tired of everyone thinking of me as the cute one. It's not fair. I have more single interviews than the rest of the guys combined.

I also know Kevin hates arranging them. He, as the rest of us, thinks that the interviews should be made as a group. We are a singing group.

Kevin checks his watch. "We're running out of time," he says absently. "Go change and lets meet in fifteen in the hallway to go to the venue."

Each one of the guys stands up, going to their own rooms. I stand up as well. I stop on my way, frozen on my place. Brian was the last one to leave barely seconds ago, as I hear the door closing after him. I turn around.

"I don't wanna do the interview."

Kevin lifts his eyes from the bunch of papers he's got in hand. "Nick," tiredness audible in his voice, "don't make this any harder."

"But you can call them and ask them to call it off, right?"

Kevin shakes his head. "That's not fair, you know that. We can't start calling magazines and canceling our interviews. That'd say we're that irresponsible."

"But we're not!"

"I know that and you know that. But we have to show them that."

I shake my head, pouting. "I don't wanna do the interview."

Kevin gives a small smile, rumbling my hair. "I know you don't. It won't take long, I promise."

"Please, I know you can..."

Kevin shakes his head. "Nick, please, I don't wanna start with this again."

I bite back my words. He's right. We're always doing this. Kevin wants me to do something and I just refuse. And when I do that, he'll just smile and caress my cheek or rumble my hair. He'll just baby me.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that when we first started, I was only thirteen and that's why Kevin always took as his responsibility to take care of me. I'm not complaining; I don't think I could ever do such thing. It's just that... it's just that I'm already nineteen and I think that, if anything, I deserve to be treated as a man.

I'm not saying Kevin is unfair with me. I don't think that's it. I think it's just that... for his eyes, I will always be the kid he has to take care of. After a couple of years that get to be a little bit annoying.

And you start seeing the person with different eyes, it gets ever more annoying and frustrating.

There have been times when, seeing him like I'm seeing him right now, looking back at me with loving eyes and a sweet smile on his face, I just wanna let him know how it is I see him.

I just see him through different eyes. And I want him to see me the same way.

I've wanted to yell at him.

Many times I've yelled so loud in my mind, it felt like it was deafening.

I'm not a kid!, I've wanted to yell.

I'M NOT A KID!

The words, as usual, die down in my mind, not ever making it to the surface or coming closer to being a sound.

I've wanted, and probably always want, to scream so many things at him. I want him to stop seeing me like the little brother he never had. I want him to stop looking at me like his babysitting job.

I just want to be treated like his brother, not his younger brother.

I want to be his friend, not his responsibility.

I let out a long sigh.

I feel tears in the back of my eyes. If it's out of frustration or pain, I'm not sure.

I'm here! My mind screams. I'm right here, standing beside you. I'M HERE! The words echo in my mind. I'm right here. Why won't you fucking see me? I'm here!

However, I keep my mouth shut. I'm not able to say those things to his face. I never have. That won't ever change.

I just can't. Looking at him, I can't say a word. I can't even phantom the idea of saying a word.

In his eyes, I will always be the blond, blue-eyed, pink-rosy cheeks he met so many years ago. I don't think that'll change.

Perhaps in a couple of years, I tell myself just like I've been doing for the last two. Maybe some day he'll see me as a man and not just a kid.

And in that very same dream and hope, I wish he'd also see me with the same love I see him.

Maybe some day.

I let out another sigh. I'm tired. Physically and emotionally tired of the vicious circle I seem to place myself in every time this happens.

And in resignation, I nod. "I gotta change," I state.

He nods at me, once again smiling at me lovingly, his dimples showing and his green eyes dazzling. His eyes don't change. His eyes never change. They always see the same thing. It's like his blinded by something I'm either too young or to naïve to see. He just doesn't see what I want to scream for him to see. He just doesn't see me.

"Sure thing Nicky," he says, his voice cheerful as he sits back down and takes his papers in hand. He turns around, convinced I'm going to leave.

Why won't he see me?

Why won't he look at me?

I sigh again, walking over to the door as I do so.

Those same words have been a constant ponder in my mind. They seem never to be answer.

I can't take that. However, I can tell myself it's only a matter of time before he sees I'm turned into a man before his very same eyes and he has been denying it.

I shrug mentally.

I can tell myself that. And perhaps some day, I'll convince myself of that.

I reach the doorknob, placing my hand on top of it. I turn around, looking at him over my shoulder. He's deep in his papers again. Maybe he's right and I still am a child at heart. Maybe I just need to mature. Maybe I just need to actually grow up mentally for him to see. Maybe if I do that, he'll see me.