Venom

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I lock eyes with myself in the mirror, whispering Colton's instructions like a record on repeat. 

"Go to the address he gave you and drop off the keys to the equipment room," I whisper to my reflection, adjusting Colton's coat around my slightly narrower shoulders. 

I pat down the pocket of my jeans – Colton's jeans, mind you - that are two sizes too big. The denim fabric hangs loosely around my hips, and I yank them up before tightening the belt another notch.  Growing up, the two of us were always just a size apart. 

Thanks to Colton’s desire to add a few more pounds of meaty, man muscle to his thighs, though, that one size difference quickly became two once we hit college.  I dip my hands into the right pocket, feeling around for the piece of paper scribbled with Colton's handwriting.  The thin paper brushes against my fingertips, and I continue with my mental script.

"When they ask who you are, just give them Colton's name," I continue with a nervous sigh. "With confidence.  Then hand over the keys without another word. That's it. That's all you have to do."

I reach into the opposing jean pocket, and the metal keys greet my fingertips. Ok, I have everything. This isn't a hard task. At least, it shouldn't be. Colton’s counting on me not to screw up. The fact that he's asking me to help him out in the first place is surprise enough. Normally it's him helping me.

He's not just asking me to help him, though.  This is no ordinary favor. He's actually asking me to pretend to be him. In other words, he's trusting me with the future of his job. So, of course I jumped at the opportunity to prove myself to my slightly older brother. I've counted on him too many times to count. Now is my chance to prove he can count on me too.

I take a deep breath and run a hand through my hair. After a frantic ten minutes in my closet, I eventually resorted to searching through Colton's clean laundry basket to assure my appearance resembled him as much as possible.

Even with his clothes, though, I don't think I can pass as him. His hair is thicker and a tad darker.  (Mine is on the thinner side and always manages to stick up in the back.)  He's two inches taller, and we’ve already touched on his sudden passion for muscles.  (My stature, on the other hand, is seriously in need of some TLC from the weight room at the gym.)  His jaw is more sculpted than mine too, making him appear more masculine than me no matter what style of facial hair I try to sport.

I let out a heavy sigh. My reflection stares back at me with wide eyes. The silence is deafening, and I swear I can hear my pulse ricocheting against the four walls around me.

"You can do this, Clay," I say softly. "You'll be home in no time."

I tear my eyes from the mirror and quietly make my way down the hallway. Colton's soft snores radiate through the door of his bedroom. Poor guy must be exhausted. I know how seriously he takes his work; he wouldn't have asked me to help him out if there was any way he could have done it himself. Preparing for Venom’s performance at the Concert Cetner isn't just hard on him. It's actually wearing him out.

I grab Colton's car keys on my way out the door and lock the apartment behind me. The night air fills my lungs in bursts of freshness, and I make a mental note to get out more.  Spending the majority of my free time cooped up in my room and daydreaming about Venom (alright, obsessing may be a more appropriate term) can’t be healthy.  Colton makes the occasional 'hermit' joke about me, but I always brush them off. I hate to admit there might be some truth behind them.

I slip into the driver’s seat of Colton’s ‘baby,’ bracing myself as the ignition purrs to life.  The radio blares from the speakers at an ungodly level.  I flinch before hastily turning it down.  Colton always accuses me of listening to Venom's music too loudly.  How is he any different with his music?  At least Venom’s music is blare-worthy.  This nonsense is barely worthy of background music at an over-priced tobacco store.  I make another mental note to have a music intervention with my twin brother.