Playlist - 8. Track 8) Sisters - Saint Motel

March 9th, 10:57AM

Sebastian’s sister Stefani, though Sebastian inadvertently gifted her the nickname “Stef” early on, had apparently moved out to Anaheim. “Apparently” because they’d been rather estranged for eight years until around the start of the previous autumn, and Sebastian was still struggling to catch up with her life six months later.

He stomached his anxieties from the night before and drove himself to the “Pop-Over Place,” a quaint brunch spot Stef had chosen that was swallowed up by blossoming trees and swarmed with women in their mid-40’s chugging down mimosas like they were bottomless.

From his place in Burbank, Anaheim was nearly an hour’s drive on a good day. Fortunately, Stef being the damn-near genius that she was, had already figured out this place was the best for brunch so that either one of them would have about equal driving time. Well, okay, maybe it didn’t quite take a genius to figure that out, but Stef was smarter than anyone Sebastian knew regardless.

Unfortunately, Stef hadn’t accounted for her own chronic lateness.

Sebastian stood in the cinematically clear weather just a few feet from the Pop-Over Place’s entrance for an uncomfortable amount of time, and he’d started to get a couple strange looks from a day-drunk divorcee.

He whipped out his phone.

Sebastian, 10:28 AM: Hey. actually got here a bit early. Whats ur ETA?

Sebastian, 10:30 AM: Stef are u still coming?

Sebastian, 10:31 AM: or am i gonna be pretending to enjoy brunch alone?

Sebastian, 10:40 AM: this place is weird yo

Sebastian, 10:45 AM: oh u so are payin for my food. If u ever show.

Sebastian was in the middle of typing out a string of angry devil emojis for his sister, but just as his thumb hovered over the send button, a notification popped up. He’d gotten a text: not from Stef, but from Kate.

He tentatively opened it.

She’d not sent an actual typed-out message but a video. So, curiously, he pressed play.

“Alright! Alright!” Kate’s voice barked. She wasn’t on camera.

The video looked to be taken from the inside of a tour bus. Five or six aged millennials were crowded together like they were posing for a group photo. Sebastian recognized them; it was Rangoli, the band he and Kate had worked with not too long ago. He’d hardly remembered what they looked like, just pictured them as some shadowy amorphous blob that had stolen his collaborative partner. However, they actually looked more like a group of people who’d regularly attend Burning Man and, like, maybe tried ayahuasca once.

“I’m not fucking taking a picture!” Kate squealed.

The group relaxed themselves.

The camera reeled back, finally showing Kate. Her voluminous hair was tied back in a sloppy ponytail, and though there was a bright alertness in her eyes, Sebastian could make out slight bags sagging just below them.

She then said, “Sebastian, just wanted to check in with you. So did the band.”

The band all earnestly spouted various overlapping greetings from behind Kate.

“So!” Kate spoke once more, “We all just wanted to say--”

And all together, they put up their middle fingers with mischievous grins and shouted, “Fuck you Sebastian!”

The video ended, leaving Sebastian slightly misty-eyed. He refused to cry for two days in a row, but, god, he missed working with Kate. He had so much to catch her up on. If she’d ever actually come back.

He sent back in a text, “You cheeky assholes” and then, a curt, but pleasant, “Hey” hummed from someone just out his field of view.

He lowered his phone.

Stef had finally made an appearance.

His sister was a few inches taller than Sebastian and a touch more slender, but they both had the same Santos darkness in their eyes. She dressed herself in a flowy, daffodil-hued blouse with a matching headband pulling back her chestnut hair. Though her hair was the color of their mother’s unlike Sebastian’s jet black, just like her brother, Stef had inherited their father’s curls. It was clear she didn’t have time to tame them all the way today, as they’d frazzled themselves by the base of her neck haphazardly.

Nevertheless, she gave her brother an uneasy smile.

Sebastian still wasn’t entirely sure how to greet his sister. Stef was like a whole new person to him. Was it okay to hug? Or was that a bit too warm for how they were? He couldn't exactly give his sister a handshake instead. At the end of the day, they were siblings.

So, he just returned the shaky grin and threw up a wavering hand. “I was worried you wouldn’t show,” he admitted, though he was sure to sneak in just a touch of annoyance in his tone.

“Yeah…” she breathed, “I had to park like a half-mile away.”

“This city just keeps adding more shit to it without the parking to back it up.”

“Haha, yeah, fuck Los Angeles,” his sister snorted.

In many ways, after reconnecting, Sebastian found Stef quite similar to Kate. Well, his sister didn’t have quite the acidic personality as Kate did, but they both were women he’d absolutely never try to mess with.

The pompous hostess at the Pop-Over Place must have gotten the same vibe, as she quickly stifled her attitude when Stef asked to be seated for her brunch reservation they were now a half-hour late for.

They were seated towards the end of the eatery’s outdoor patio. Sebastian could already smell orange juice and fresh-made bacon as they sat down. Fuck, he was so hungry. All of his energy that morning was so taken up by over-thinking his run-in with… him… the night before that he didn’t even try to eat breakfast.

Plus, Sebastian had an uncomfortable exchange with his roommate and Audrey (who had stayed over) before he’d left for brunch.

March 9th, 9:43AM

“Hey bud,” Naveen greeted once he caught a glimpse of Sebastian slinking out of his bedroom. His roommate had plastered on a clearly-fake smile, which was extra unnerving considering Sebastian had hardly ever seen a real smile crease across Naveen’s face.

Audrey and him stood in the kitchen, next to each other expectantly, like they were a married couple ready to talk to their pre-teen son.

“Um. What’s up?” Sebastian said back.

“How was your night?” Audrey questioned. She stirred a spoon in the iced coffee she had on the counter.

“Why do you ask?”

Naveen’s smile dropped. He turned his back to Sebastian and sped to the refrigerator, as if there was a pressing emergency inside. Though, the only thing in there that probably needed even a modicum of urgency would have been the expired cream cheese.

Audrey made a mousy squeak and adjusted the silk bonnet over her hair. “Um. No reason. First gay bar and all. Did you make any friends?”

Naveen opened the fridge door, obscuring his face. Totally not suspicious.

“Ha!” Sebastian exhaustedly laughed, “Fuck no I didn’t.”

Then, he shuffled his way over to the kitchen to make his own cup of coffee. Naveen further jutted his head into the fridge, like an ostrich burying its head in sand. Something was up, and he was starting to get on Sebastian’s nerves.

“Dude what the fuck are you doing in there!”

Naveen bolted up and whacked his scalp against the top shelf, nearly upturning the quart of milk on it. His roommate carefully rebalanced it and then let out a deep sigh. “Emile texted me,” he admitted.

Sebastian literally face-palmed.

Right. Naveen and Emile were tangentially friends; that was how Sebastian had met his ex-boyfriend, through Naveen.

“He just said that he saw you last night and that you looked distressed and that I probably should check in on you,” his roommate prattled swiftly.

Sebastian had never seen Naveen so flustered. If he wasn’t feeling a raging mix of embarrassment and anger, he probably would have been mildly amused by it.

Audrey chimed in, “What happened last night?”

The stench of the stranger’s breath tickled Sebastian’s nose. The glow of violet light against scarlet glass blinked through his mind’s eye. Last night’s lost and misplaced feeling swelled back up him like bile up the throat.

Sebastian couldn’t talk about it. They just wouldn’t get it. This wasn’t what their relationship dynamic was supposed to be.

“I-I’ve got a brunch I got to go to,” Sebastian excused himself.

He couldn’t get out of the apartment faster if he tried.

March 9th, 11:20AM

When a waiter came around, Stef asked three or four questions about their bread with patient candor. The waiter seemed to answer with the placidness of a person who probably got asked similar questions by every other customer who came to the Pop-Over Place. After mulling it over, Stef seemed to silently decide he’d given an adequate response and ordered a plate of french toast graciously.

The man taking their order then turned to Sebastian.

“The greasiest serving of bacon and eggs you guys can make,” he requested. “And a mimosa.”

Hair of the dog for his emotional hangover.

As the waiter walked away, Stef gave her brother a playful smirk. “You had a rough night or something?”

“Jesus, did I?” he scoffed. He defensively put his palms up and added, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Well, half-silence-- a woman who clearly had a mimosa-too-many just a table over from them had burst out cackling.

“So,” Stef uttered. “How have you been?”

She and Sebastian really only saw each other once a month. Since she made the choice to reach out to him, they’d taken turns making plans to meet for brunch, or lunch, or a post-work snack on a park bench every so often. Normally, Sebastian wasn’t one to initiate plans, but if there was one person he was more than happy to have in his life, it was Stef.

It was just that Stef… was a very different person from when they were last in regular contact, back when Sebastian was starting college.

“Oh, you know, I’ve been getting by. Work’s been hell. My collaborator, Kate-- dunno if I’ve mentioned her before-- she left me to go tour with some band we worked with for a minute. So, I’ve been dealing with clients alone.”

Stef raised her eyebrows. “Oh damn. And you hate people.”

Yeah, she still knew her brother well. “So do you,” Sebastian teased.

“That’s why I work with computers. They never have something shitty to say to me and ultimately all their problems are user-error,” Stef sniffed, opening a rolled up set of silverware.

Stef had gotten a job at some start-up making computer programs that recently exploded in success. She was the woman who helped create some software that artists would use for 3D modeling, too. She’d explained it in finer detail the last time Sebastian had met with her, but it had been all so complicated, it immediately went in one ear and out through the other.

“How’s life with you?” Sebastian asked back.

His sister twisted a fork around. She paused, as if to consider her next words carefully. Finally, she uttered, “Dad asked to see you.”

Oh fuck. Sebsatian’s leg began to bounce.

He nearly had to sew his mouth shut so as not to let out a scream because, in all too perfect timing, their waiter appeared out of thin air. He wordlessly placed Stef’s plate of cinnamon-smelling french toast pieces in front of her, then took an agonizingly long amount of time to do the same for Sebastian’s bacon and eggs. He felt like he was going to burst if he had to wait one more second to not shriek after what Stef had said. Sebastian literally had to take the mimosa from the waiter’s hand instead of waiting for him to slow-mo-place it on the table. He gave Sebastian a face; Sebastian didn’t care.

Finally, the waiter left once more.

Stef immediately said, “I know he said he’d be patient about it, but like, it’s been six months, Seb. He really wants to see you.”

Sebastian tilted back the mimosa and swallowed down a massive gulp… which he nearly spat back in the glass. It was made with prosecco. Who the fuck made a mimosa with prosecco?

He placed the glass back down and stiffened in his chair. “Yeah, it’s just… Stef, this is fucking hard, you know?”

His sister flicked up an eyebrow and sniped, “You’re telling me. Before I reached out to him, he was still under the impression he had another son instead of me.”

“At least he took it well,” simmered Sebastian.

Stef’s transition had long been a point of contention between her and their mother. The truth was that, fresh into Sebastian’s first year of college, Stef had come out as transgender. Who Sebastian had known as his brother was now his sister. It caused a massive rift in the family, and Sebastian had been caught in the crossfire. At that time, the world was a bit different about trans people, so even Sebastian was relatively clueless to understanding Stef. Furthermore, as Mom was then paying for his tuition, he soon had to “pick” Mom’s “side.” This, in turn, strained his and Stef’s relationship. Only recently had Stef and Sebastian started to talk again, and that was complicated now for a whole list of other reasons. Stef had just started to really make familial conversation with Sebastian again because she’d found Dad.

Fortunately for her, Dad got over the surprise quickly and had been relatively cool over the whole trans thing, according to Stef.

“It’s kind of like starting over,” Stef commented. “I just think it’d be nice is all.”

“I know, Stef, I know.”

“Right. But… well, Sebastian, he’s going to be with me for my birthday. Like, non-negotiable.”

Sebastian swiftly finished the mimosa-- prosecco be damned.

He swallowed the drink like it had the weight of a rock and then sputtered, “Like next week?”

“Yeah,” Stef sighed, “so that’s why I wanted to talk about my birthday with you.” She took a bite of french toast defeatedly.

Sebastian did find it a bit strange his sister wanted to meet to discuss birthday plans. Like Kate, Stef wasn’t much of a party person. He was expecting their brunch conversation to be about discussing times for a little get-together; not that if he wanted to show up, he had to meet with his father for the first time since he was nine.

He was fully prepared to just continue their brunch as normal, talking about Los Angeles weather and who they thought was going to be first to get married (as neither one of them ever expected they would get that far in a relationship), but Stef had to drop one last comment: “I’ve not had the chance to have a birthday with even one of our parents in forever.”

Then, Sebastian remembered a call he’d gotten a few days ago.

March 6th, 12:15PM (three days earlier)

Sebastian had spent the first half of his work day aiding a young girl who swore she was going to be the next Nicki Minaj (because he did have other clients besides Miles after all), and found he fortunately had just enough mental fortitude to make it to lunch without throwing himself through the studio plexiglass.

From his spot chilling near the Hi-Fi Studios parking lot, he watched lax clouds roll overhead. In his earbuds shuffled a playlist of Radiohead’s early hits. However, his brief sojourn into relaxation was interrupted by a familiar song about cereal.

Fuck. His mom was calling. He was supposed to get back to her, but he’d forgotten! Well, he had an extremely good memory; more than likely his mind had conveniently shuffled away the reminder to call Mom back to preserve his sanity.

Begrudgingly, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Sunlight reflected off its screen, partially obscuring his Twin Peaks phone wallpaper. In the top of the display, a bubble displaying “Mom” hung menacingly.

Finally, after far too many minutes of just staring, Sebastian pressed the “accept call” button.

“Hello?” a high voice hummed, knowingly.

“Hey Mom.”

Sebastian immediately heard his mother scoff. “Sebastian, dear, do you always have to speak like you’re fighting off that last will to live?”

“I don’t have to,” he glowered back, though, Mom did peg him right; sometimes talking to her did wear down on his mortality. “You called,” he stated. “What’s up?”

“Muppet, I tried to get a hold of you earlier because it’s important. I was trying to see if you’ve spoken to your br-”

“You better finish that sentence with ‘sister,’ Mom, or you can forget this call ever happened.”

His mother let out another scoff-- this one far more flagrant. “I don’t understand why everything’s got to be so difficult these days.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and started pacing the sidewalk. “Mom, I don’t have time for this. What’s up with Stef?”

“Well…” his mother’s voice got the faintest bit tender then, “...Stefani’s birthday is coming up. I… wanted to know if… Stefani wanted anything.”

The way she had said Stef’s name clearly brought her mountainous inconvenience. Her purposeful avoidance of pronouns in her sentence did not go unnoticed, either.

When Stef had come out to him and Mom, their mother’s reaction was not good. Stef was already out of the house at this point, but their relationship completely deteriorated after she’d come out. They fought, they screamed, and they howled at each other their first Christmas together starting her transition.

Stef had chosen the worst timing for Sebastian’s own personal journey. He had just begun college. There was a hope in his heart he could start university openly gay, but after he saw his mother’s reaction to Stef’s own coming out, he sealed his mouth shut. For good. For the best.

Mom and Stef had gone into a Cold War, and Sebastian had honestly expected there to never be any little lee-way from either one of them.

Naively, when he first started to rebuild his relationship with his sister, Sebastian told his mother. She, as he should have expected, did not react well to this news.

“Mom, look,” Sebastian said, “I don’t think Stef wants anything from you.” He wasn’t sure if this call was his mother trying to do good or simply gesturing out of obligation. Or worse, maybe she was trying to get in Stef’s head… that wasn’t above Mom, sometimes.

“Sebastian.” Now it was unmistakable, this was her honest voice. The voice she had used in the hospital room with him. “Please,” Mom pleaded. “I’m actually trying here.”

“...What do you want me to do, Mom? You still can barely say her name, so I’m pretty sure you’ll burst into flames if you try to physically write it out on a birthday card.”

Over the line, Sebastian heard a strange noise. Like a hiccup but in pain. Ugh. She was crying.

Sebastian knew he shouldn’t be so bothered by his mother’s tears… and in truth, he always felt sorry for her when she cried. But let’s just say his mother cried at times most convenient to her a lot. Worse than that, Sebastian couldn’t build up an immunity to her sobbing no matter how much he tried.

“Fine,” he groaned. “But she’s got her own life now, Mom.”

She quickly collected herself. “At least you’re still here,” she breathed back.

But he wasn’t.

He knew what Mom actually meant, but her sentence still stirred a deeper worry inside Sebastian. The last time they had talked was as fully-committed-to-dying-alone Sebastian. His mom’s straight son. That son wasn’t on the other end of the line. Now, he was begrudgingly-considering-living-out-his-own-love-story Sebastian. Her fearful gay son.

Not that she knew any of that.

Openly, he said, “I’ll always be here, Mom. We just, you know, change.” He recited it hollowly.

“Like your father,” Mom volleyed.

“Like Dad.”

And Sebastian hung up.

March 9th, 11:44AM

Sebastian wrestled between whether or not to tell Stef about their mother’s call. He’d already upset himself enough by letting that whole “love story” dissipate rather quickly once seeing… him the night before. There was too much on his mind.

However, he remembered how uncomfortable his sister was setting the ultimatum for him to meet their father moments earlier but had still followed through. It wouldn’t be fair to just avoid this.

His tongue felt dry as he near-whispered, “Mom called me about you.”

Stef’s long fingers squeezed together into a ball. Darkness shadowed her face. “Don’t lie to me and pretend the impossible happened,” she hissed.

“I’m not. But the next-to-impossible did.”

Her fingers released. “Wha… What do you mean?”

Sebastian relayed the story of his phone call with Mom.

The whole time, Stef’s eyes bore patiently through him; she seemed somewhere in the realm between disbelief, disgust, and fear.

“And… I told her I’d tell you,” Sebastian concluded, dropping his fork into his mostly finished eggs. He didn’t care if he was talking with his mouth full; he didn’t want cold eggs after not eating that morning.

Stef lowered her head pensively. She didn’t make a sound the entire time Sebastian spoke. It took her a moment, but she finally muttered: “No fucking way.” Her voice raised. “Tell her ‘no fucking way.’ I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

Sebastian gulped. He wanted to tell his sister to give Mom a chance, but he would be saying that as the child who wasn’t ostracized by their mother for being queer; though, that was simply because Mom didn’t know he was gay.

Shit. Stefani still didn’t know he was gay either.

If Glee and Love, Simon and all those other approachable gay stories on screen were to be believed, family members came quickly after friends in order of people he’d come out to. Audrey and Naveen were the closest to friends Sebastian had.

Well, there was Kate, but Sebastian also hadn’t gotten around to telling her. Damn, the list of people he still hadn’t come out to was growing.

Regardless, Stef of all people would understand exactly how he was feeling.

So why couldn’t he get his lips to move?

It was like Shout all over again. He knew exactly what to say.

I’m gay, Stef. I am a gay man. I like men.

Stef, please help me.

Instead, his jaw locked until his sister visibly simmered down. Minutes passed by, until her angular shoulders lowered and her expression softened.

In a conscious effort to change the topic, Sebastian mused, “Do you remember your magician phase in the fifth grade?”

Stef snorted back, “I seem to remember that was a phase we shared together, no?”

“Hm, I recall that quite differently,” he feigned coyly before munching his last strip of bacon.

And finally, they came back to their regular conversation topics of clear skies and weddings that would never happen… retelling stories of sneaking bottles of wine from convenience stores... anecdotes about their favorite movies growing up…

All the while Sebastian hated himself for not just telling her.