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The story is simple.
Depressed boy meets crazy, possibly legally insane, girl at therapy and their whirlwind adventure begins.
Korin and Micha had only one thing in common: they had each discovered the...
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What I saw in February:
Coney Island
Singing Witches
Two Questionable Lines
Future turn bleak
John and Brandon were in the row behind us retelling their adventures from our trip to New York. John was offered a position as a principle next fall with the company in New York. I called in a favor to a family friend, Mo, and he said he'd see John, but he wasn't promising anything. Obviously he liked what he saw and offered him a position on the spot. Korin was happy for his brother, however he wasn't very happy that I offered John the use of my family's three-bedroom loft in the SoHo district for free.
Valentine's Day was amusing, sweet and ridiculous, but amusing nonetheless. We went to a gallery Korin had read about online, and thought I'd like it. Little did he know that it was my New York gallery. Imagine the look on his face when he walked in and saw a wall size black and white print of him and John swimming from when we went to Oregon on Labor Day weekend. John was standing up in the water, sun glistening off his muscular body, and Korin was in the process of doing a back flip into the water. He was surprised to hear that my family owned twelve galleries around the world. I guess he didn't realize between Father's music and Mother's dance and art, I had acquired quite the collection of business ventures and revenue streams.
I stayed in for two days when we were in New York. I was too tired to run around with the boys doing the tourist crap. Usually jetlag didn't kick my ass like that, but this time it kicked my ass and then some.
"You promise to make your appointment this week, right?" Korin asked while we waited to make our final decent into the fog-covered airport.
"Do I have to?" I asked through another yawn.
"Yes."
"Bitch."
Korin laughed. "At least one of us needs to be."
It was the compromise I made with him; no more mothering me and threats of taking me to the hospital when sick from the medications or eating something that didn't agree with me, in exchange for making my next appointment with Dr. O'Shea.
Oh how I wish I wouldn't have made that compromise.
"Jesus Christopher Christ, stop pacing! You're making me nervous," I complained as Korin paced the waiting room at the hospital.
He looked over at me and glared.
"Oh come on, Christopher doesn't flow?" I scoffed.
"Can't you be serious for one minute?" he asked.
Korin should have known better than to ask something so stupid.
"I don't know much about Von Willebrand disease," he continued, "so you have to help me out here. Why would they need to do additional blood work?"
