More Than Roommates
“I’ll walk you.”
We step into the corridor, it’s cooler out here, quieter. The hallway smells like cheap floor cleaner and someone’s instant noodles.
My brother shoves his hands in his pockets.
“You don’t have to pretend for me, you know,” he says suddenly.
I frown. “What?”
“This whole act. Pretending you’re just experimenting, or playing cool with your roommate, or trying to find yourself.” His tone is softer now, almost pitying. “You’ve always been confused, Alex. It’s okay. But don’t drag yourself deeper with people who make it harder.”