— chameleon.

“Bit rich coming from you, ain’t it?” Trent laughs, brushing off the insult. Being called an embarrassment is very low on the list of things he’ll react to. “No need to be jealous of my voice. I was in the church choir for years as a lad.” Pay him for the favour... Now, that does sound interesting. Every interaction he’s had with his brother since he arrived in Chicago has been, well, pretty fucking foul. With a raised brow, Trent goes back to his mopping and smoking. “Go on then, tell me what the favour is! Can’t remember you having such a sweet tooth for ice cream, Ezzy. You want it for your latest pet human or something, lil’ bro? Warm my heart with a yes, and I’ll let you have it for free.”

“There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernandooo!” Closing the ice cream shop comes with its perks – Trent getting to blast the Cher version of Fernando by ABBA over the speakers while he mops the floor, no shirt on, smoking a spliff. The older him got fired for threatening to punch someone who asked for rum raisin. The younger him had no problem getting his job back, though. A little flirting, a smidge of lying on his resume. The manager was putty in his hands. “They were shining there for you and me, for liberty, Fernandooo!” A gust of air makes him shiver, and he spins around, twirling the mop like he’s the sexiest ballroom dancer you ever did see! “We’re closed unless you’re good at bribery.”

“Christ, Ezra! You need to get over it, pal. You think I was ready to stand up to dad at that age? You think anyone would listen to me?” Trent was powerless to do anything about the situation. His brother needed to be stopped, and that was his family’s solution. Not fighting them on it didn’t mean he agreed with their choices. Their dad was an abusive piece of shit, he’d have sent Trent away, too. He couldn’t leave his mom. In a flash of anger, his hand collides with Ezra’s chest, forcefully shoving him back into his seat. “Listen here, pipsqueak, I didn’t celebrate fuck all. I stayed away for awhile after you were gone! You’ve got a fuckin’ chip on your shoulder for no reason. This is why I never reached out when Dotty was born. You’re always so fuckin’ angry, and it’s at the wrong people.”

“That is the nicest compliment I’ve ever heard, Will! Thanks, big guy. If I were the really hot dad in a HBO show, you’d be the really hot neighbour I spy on in the hot tub.” The fanfic writers on the internet would go crazy for that shit. They’d eat it right up! Damn, maybe he should’ve done something with his life and become a script writer instead of a crime scene cleaner. “How’ve ya been, man? It’s been a while since we last saw each other.”

“Oh, Cam-a-Cam-a-Cam-a-Cameleon, you really are a grumpy lil’ goose today, ain’t ya?” Trent would love it if Cam would forgive and forget the whole milkshake incident, but it’s evident that she’ll never let it go. Not very Elsa of her at all, if you ask him. “I’m actually a hoot if you’d give me a chance! But, now that you’re asking... I need your help with technology. I want to hack my little brother’s laptop and see what the lil’ shitbag has been up to.”

“It looks worse than it is,” Trent mumbles, taking a drag of his cigarette. He’d noticed the woman glancing at him, and it isn’t exactly surprising, seeing as his face is covered in cuts and bruises. “You should see the other three guys,” he says, with a slightly menacing laugh following his words. She’d have to visit the local lake to find them, and swim all the way to the bottom, but whatever. He’s making conversation! Appearing as his younger self to get student discounts at clubs nearly always ends up with him getting into a brawl by the end of the night. When he shifts into his present day body, the marks will disappear, leaving Dotty none the wiser about his stupid decisions. 

“Now that the kids are playing and out of earshot, I want to take a second to tell you that your tits are practically popping the buttons on your shirt.” Trent isn’t exactly flirting, but... he doesn’t care if Will takes it as that. He is in great physical shape, and he deserves to be complimented on it. “It’s like I’m sitting with the Incredible Hulk. Teenage Trent is fangirling inside my head.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my ego. Not even a scratch on it. Yours has always been fragile.” He shouldn’t rise to Ezra’s prodding, but he’ll be damned if he lets the little shit get one over on him. ‘You wanted me dead and gone.’ He doesn’t even know how Trent felt when they sent him away. It’s all presumed and it’s fucking annoying. People trying to tell him how he feels has always got under her skin. “If pretending is working two jobs to give Dotty a good life, then yeah, I’m a fuckin’ pretender. And don’t sit there and act like you know what goes on inside my head, Ezra. I didn’t want you dead and gone, so now you look like an idiot.”

“Good. I don’t like ponies! I had an incident with one as a kid, when I lived in Ireland. It was my eejit brother’s fault, actually.” Whenever Trent got into trouble, it could mostly always be linked back to Ezra. He loved his little twat of a brother, though, so took the blame as much as he could. Trent also had no problem getting into shenanigans all by himself. To be fair, they were both idiots. Ezra was just more violent and bloodthirsty. She cracks another a joke, and he gives an appreciative laugh. Show pony or not, she’s got a great sense of humour. “Did you hear about the Italian chef that died?” Trent asks, pausing for a moment before continuing, “he pasta-way.”

“Well, that’s a very hurtful thing to say, Cameron. I don’t think we can move onto my next question until we address your feelings.” Trent knows he irritates her, and he finds it hilarious. Ah, kids. Always so easy to piss off. “’Cause I need your help, but like I said, we should talk about how Cameron’s feeling today! I can get you a feelings stick to hold if it makes you feel better.”