Chapter 2: Deja Vu and Old Scars

In the end, after calling in every favor I had, I found Tyler a decent job.

I’d called in favors, pestered old classmates, even messaged people I hadn’t spoken to since high school. Awkward texts. Half-hearted promises. My phone was full of them. Eventually, someone came through with a welding apprenticeship.

But he complained that welding required certification, was tiring, and just wasn't a real job in his eyes:

He wrinkled his nose, waving off the idea like I'd just suggested he scrub toilets. "Cuz, are you just jealous of me?"

He said it with a half-smirk, but there was real resentment there. He always thought everyone else had it easy. That the world was out to get him, making him work harder than anyone else.

"You're just jealous I get to work at a place full of girls who look like models."

He puffed up his chest, trying to look like a big shot. "And the whole place smells good, not like welding, which is hot, exhausting, and you gotta get certified and everything."

He made a face, waving his hand in front of his nose, as if the idea of sweat and steel was beneath him. I almost laughed.

"You know me—you just want to mess with me!" he shot me a glare.

He looked at me like I was the villain in his story, like every bit of advice was some kind of sabotage. Plain as day. The frustration was written all over his face.

Back then, Marlene immediately jumped to his defense:

She swooped in, arms crossed, glaring at me like I’d insulted the whole family. "Eli, Tyler and I don't have much schooling, and he can't handle tough work. How could I let him do something like welding?" I rolled my eyes at her defensiveness.

Her voice trembled, not from fear, but from the force of her conviction. She always knew how to play the protective mom card. No one did martyr like Marlene.

"What's so bad about the beauty warehouse?" she demanded.

She tossed her head, lips pursed. "You're just jealous Tyler found such a good job! It's full of pretty girls—not like you, almost thirty and still single."

Her words stung, but I’d heard them before. She always brought up my single status when she was losing an argument, like it was the ultimate trump card. Typical.

I looked at Marlene, completely baffled. Go figure. She was the one who'd asked me to talk Tyler out of the warehouse job, but now she was blaming me for trying to stop him.

I stared at her, mouth half-open, searching for some sign that this was a joke. But she just glared back, daring me to contradict her. It was like arguing with a brick wall. Logic had no place here.

Feeling humiliated, Tyler jumped on Facebook Messenger and exaggerated everything:

His thumbs flew over the screen, typing out a storm of complaints. I could almost see the notification bubbles popping up on everyone’s phones across town.

"Everyone, back me up!"

He sent the message with a dramatic flourish, like he was rallying troops for battle.

"Eli can't stand to see me do well! I got a job at a beauty warehouse, surrounded by gorgeous women—I could even get a girlfriend! But what does Eli do?"

"He insists I become a welder! Says I have no education! Looks down on me!"

"Sure, I'm not as capable as my cousin, not a master's grad like him!"

"He has it easy—just a few words and he can call the shots!"

"But I'm not him! I got my own job at the warehouse! But no—he goes straight to my mom and tells her not to let me go! Says the place is sketchy, that I'm getting scammed!"

"Come on, everyone, back me up!"

His rant put all the blame on me. Just like that. No matter how I explained, it was useless. Aunts, uncles, even distant relatives who'd never spoken to me started adding me just to lecture me.

My phone lit up like a Christmas tree—everyone suddenly had an opinion, and none of them wanted to hear my side. Each message piled on the guilt. I was the family’s designated scapegoat.

After everyone finished scolding me, Marlene broke down crying:

She burst into the room, eyes red, clutching a wad of tissues. Her voice was thick. She was trying hard to sound pitiful.

"Eli, I was just worried Tyler would do something stupid. I was afraid if both of us tried to stop him, he'd do something crazy."

She sniffled, dabbing at her eyes, glancing up to make sure I was watching. She always knew how to put on a show when the family was watching. I almost wanted to applaud.

"You know what he's like—always acting before thinking."

She let out a shaky sigh, wringing her hands. The kitchen felt colder. The walls closed in as she laid on the guilt.

"I'll explain things in the group chat, but please, this time, I'm begging you."

She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. Her grip was surprisingly strong. Her nails dug into my skin.

"Please try to talk him out of it again. I saw online that some beauty warehouses are full of toxic junk."

She pulled out her phone, showing me some half-baked news article, eyes wide with concern. I rolled my eyes internally. "Eli, we're all family… Just help your aunt out and talk to your cousin, okay?"

Her voice was pleading, but I could hear the manipulation underneath. She always knew how to make her problems feel like mine. Every time.