**
The Skyshank Puppets after-show party was at his place. wouldn't
Thankfully everyone had gotten yelling at him out of their system back at the club. It hadn’t helped his cause that he didn’t have a logical excuse for freezing up; he didn’t want to sound crazy, and hallucinating was certainly crazy, so his official story was that he’d just blanked from nerves and he wouldn’t let it happen again.
And he’d stuck to that story until his brother pulled him aside after a few drinks. “Hugo, what happened? That wasn’t an act; you were really freaked out up there.”
Hugo cringed, searching the crowd for a way out of the interrogation, but Lewis put a heavy arm across his shoulders, rooting him to the spot; so he settled for chewing on his thumbnail. “I just spaced,” he mumbled into the pumping, ambient music.
“Oh don’t bullshit me. You never blank when you’re playing. All through school, sure, but never when you’re performing. Tell me what happened.” Lewis squeezed his shoulder.
Hugo turned towards his brother, heart suddenly thudding again, “I saw something-”
“Out in the crowd?” Lewis frowned, “I thought it was too dark for you to see-”
“No! An explosion! I was on stage, and then suddenly I was at my window. There was a huge explosion, like a mushroom cloud. I think I died and-”
His brother pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, “Are you on meth again?”
Hugo gritted his teeth. He should have known. “No, you asshole.”
“Look, if you are, I won’t-”
“Screw you!” Hugo spat and then quickly pushed his way out of audible range of his brother. He had no reason to be angry. How wouldn’t that be someone’s response to him admitting he’d hallucinated? But he’d promised Lewis that he wouldn’t do that anymore and it had been so easy for his brother to reach the conclusion that he’d broken that promise. Hugo tried to convince himself it was just because his brother was a detective, it was in his nature to question people based on the information he had, and it wasn’t because Lewis didn’t trust him. He was not very convincing.
Hugo got himself another drink, but couldn’t shake the resentful disappointment, so he sulked on the couch for the rest of the night, people watching. That was, until his brother came towards him, keys swinging on his finger. Hugo stood, intending to avoid him, but his brother leaned in, “Don’t worry, I’m just leaving. Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier-” The rest of his brother’s sentence was drowned out by the screeching of tires and the sound of crunching metal as his brother’s car was speared by a semi. His mangled body was sporting a black Ramones t-shirt.
Hugo was still staring at that shirt when his brother’s voice cut into the stillness, “Hugo. Hey Hugo, you all right?” Hugo looked up and around, his eyes frantic; he was back in his apartment again. He felt lightheaded and he was breathing fast but not taking in any air. “Hugo?”
Hugo reached out, ripping the ring of keys from his brother’s fingers.
“Hey!”
But Hugo was already turning to hand them to someone else. “Get these to Peggy,” he said breathlessly, “Tell her my brother’s drunk and he’s not allowed to leave.”
“I’m not-” Lewis began, but the other guy had already taken off in search of Peggy and even Lewis wouldn’t be able to get her to relinquish his keys at that point. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m not drunk and I got work tomorrow, I can’t stay here.”
However, Hugo wasn’t listening. He was busy examining his brother’s neck for shards of shrapnel. There had been so much blood, and his head had been twisted at such an impossible angle…
Lewis grabbed his hand, “What are you-”
Hugo teetered and managed to turn away just before puking all over the carpet.