Chapter 23 - Chapter Twenty-One — Chandré

"What's up, Chan?" my brother asks, sounding like half his attention is on our conversation and the other half is somewhere else entirely.

"You got a sec?"

"Anything for my little sister," he says, still sounding absent.

"What did I interrupt?" I find myself smiling in spite of the distraction.

"I was drawing up some sessions."

"It's off-season, Cliff. The season only starts in August. You've got time."

"True, but I can't stop thinking about what we might do next year. We've got a lekker group of boys." He sighs. "Anyway, let me stop. My baby sister is on the line. Big-time stylist to the stars."

There's no mockery in it, only pride, and the tightness in my chest eases. He's been through a lot. He's put us through a lot. But when it comes down to it he's still my big brother, who I loved more than just about anything growing up, even when he was being an arsehole. In spite of everything, he's still my Namakwa twin.

"I don't want to hold you up." I clear my throat. "So I'll get straight to it. I'm seeing someone."

"Ahhhh," he says, teasing, knowing. "Boy or girl?"

I let out a shallow, nervous laugh. "Boy."

"Well, tell me about him then. He must be special. You never bother telling me about the idiots you meet on Tinder and whatever."

"You, uh... you know him, actually."

"For real? Know him like some famous one out there, or know him—"

"Personally. You knew him back in the day." Impatience with my own stalling rushes the words out of me. "It's Nazareth. Uh... Naz Ramoshaba."

My words reverberate in the silence that comes after them.

"What the fuck, Chan?" he explodes. "Are you serious?"