There were so many rules and sayings in the ViewTube community and creators in general, and all the important ones revolved around the comments section. You cannot make everyone happy. The more people see you, the more people are going to hate on you, so don’t let it get to you. If you live and die on each comment, you won’t survive. Nessa was used to being a gay woman on the internet with a “combative personality,” so she was good at remaining ambivalent to the hate she might be receiving on the internet.

”You insensitive, grammatically incompetent c**kface!”

Well, usually.

Nessa’s last personal video was something she was emotionally invested in because it was literally her bearing her identity and her soul for the internet to see. There was plenty of support and private messages from trans girls and young mutants thanking her for being so open, and those were the comments Nessa was trying to focus on.

”Oh, come the f*** on! Attention grab?! F*** you!”

It was too easy to linger on the worst of her commenters and wonder what would compel someone to go out of their way and bash someone. She was good at acting above it all, but some of the comments really did hurt. Fake lesbian. Deceitful, both as a woman and a “human.” Poor, confused boy. Abomination. Mistake. Some of those insults hit hard, and Nessa’s best way to deal with hurt was to turn it into anger, so she was on her bed, scrolling through comments on her tablet and loudly cussing at people who could not hear her.

It was better than making a response video to the hate and causing more of a sh**storm, but it was not the healthiest way to handle the problem. Nessa just had no other ideas off the top of her head for how to feel better and get over it.

Booker always believed that his sister was strong. Everything that she went through, the dark corners she found herself in, the fear and anger and sadness, it was enough to have ended weaker souls. But through it all, Nessa managed to pick herself up and carry on until she found a comfortable balance. She found herself, made a niche for her life, and it was the most heroic and encouraging thing that Booker had ever been privy to witness. It made him proud to be her brother. Unfortunately, not everyone took the same view he had. Whether from ignorance or sheer cruelty, there were those who didn’t, nor couldn’t, understand.

It was hard to come out to your family and friends. Admittedly, Booker took the fact that she was a mutant a little hard at first. Not because he didn’t care for mutants, but because she had kept it a secret for so long. But the two of them managed to work through it. However, when you’re an internet personality, coming out in several different fronts, all at once, it was bound to leave you open for some truly cruel jabs.

Nessa road the wave well at first, a few trolls here and there, nothing she wasn’t used to hearing when she was first transitioning. But it seemed that for every kind-hearted and thankful message, there was a particularly thick barbed one that would sneak in. That was what Booker was listening to now. The jagged comments that Nessa exposed herself to whenever her eyes fell just a few clicks below her video and into the comments section. Honestly, she should have disabled that feature by now.

Booker could hear the cursing from her room. As a matter of fact, he had heard it since she posted her video and the flames started to spread. He tried telling her not to worry about it, that it was just human nature and that the hate would eventually be smothered out by her true fans. For a second it seemed to work but his sister had the deepcut flaw of being unable to look away for long. Eventually the cursing would start up again and Booker would find himself unsure as to what to do next.

Eventually...he grew tired of it. Booker was an understanding man, he knew people did what they had to to process bad events. But enough was enough. Sitting on the couch, trying to watch his latest episode of ‘Paranormal’ (seriously, greatest show in existence as proved by the fact it is going into its fourteenth season), Booker kept hearing that stream of consistent obscenities. She needed to stop.

So, hefting himself up from the couch, the jean and t-shirt clad Booker carefully slipped on his sneakers, ran his fingers through his hair, and stepped up to her door. He didn’t bother to knock. Instead he just calmly opened her door, walked in without a word, and then immediately scooped her up, slinging his sister over his shoulder like a ragdoll. Wordlessly he left the room and closed the door behind them.

It was time to take a break from that ****ing computer.

Vanessa should have heeded the advice of literally everyone and shut off the comments section to her video, but she was sure the people who wanted to leave comments would just flee to her other videos. Maybe it was better to concentrate the garbage in one pile.

It was sound logic, except one did not spend her night staring at garbage, waiting for more people to add to the pile. The analogy even sounded toxic, and Vanessa was raging at the toxicity. She was stewing in most of her negative emotions, oblivious to how damaging the choice could be. Coming out again as trans was rehashing old feelings and the backlash she received for being a mutant hit the anxious worry she lived with for so many years while she kept her secret. She needed a break from the hate, but she was not acknowledging that.

Thankfully, Nessa was not alone. Sure, she had support, but specifically, she was not alone in the apartment. Booker burst into her room and before she could ask questions, he had lifted her and hoisted her over his shoulder. ”Ack! What? No! Where are you even taking me? These are pajama shorts!” Nessa kicked and protested, but her brother was always the taller, stronger one.

She put up a fight, hoping to petition him to put her down so she could change out of her old t-shirt and cotton shorts short enough to show the fox on her thigh. At least he was kind enough to pick up her shoes on the way out. By the time they were out of the door, she had stopped trying to thrash about. Her arms were folded and she wore a pout of resignation. ”I’m asking in protest and do not support this unjust abduction, but where are you taking me?”

This was an intervention. That meant that Booker was going to be faced with some resistance, but resistance from his sister was something he had grown more than used to. When they were kids, they had the usual sibling fights and, being the big brother, that often meant forcing his young sibling into servitude. Oh but Nessa always had a resistance to her. He had grown to expect it. The only time he would truly worry would be in its absence. That was not the case right now, he was thankful to see.

>>”Ack! What? No! Where are you even taking me? These are pajama shorts!”

The lumbering librarian ignored all protest and flailing as he easily carried his sister out of her room. At her grumblings that she was in inappropriate attire, a he knelt down, flung a pair of her jeans over her head (still not putting her down) before he knelt and picked up a pair of her shoes. Like that, they were out of the door where Booker kicked it closed behind him and locked it with his free hand. In making his way down the hall, towards the elevator, he gave a cheery smile to their elderly neighbor, the nosey Mrs. Whitman who despised Nessa’s drunken gaming sessions, but whom Booker still offered bright smiles.

”Afternoon Mrs. Freeman. Lovely day, isn’t it?” Nessa’s protests rang out from his shoulder as he carried her onward and into the elevator. It was only when the doors closed that he then that he set her down onto her feet and turned around so that she could make herself presentable to the world outside their building.

There was a huff in the air. As soon as it was safe to look, he turned back but kept his gaze forward and towards the door. Hands clasped in front of him, he didn’t at all look like the type who have forcefully pulled a young woman from her apartment and carried her against her will into an elevator. As a matter of fact, he just always looked like that bright ray of sunshine that he always was.

>>”I’m asking in protest and do not support this unjust abduction, but where are you taking me?”

”Out,” he said simply.

He had seen Nessa in worse states. The break-up with Becca had been a terrible one, but one that she managed to work herself out of (with some help). And while this current mood wasn’t as bad as her break-up phase, it required action nonetheless. There was no way he was going to let Nessa continue to fester and angrily scream at her computer screen. She needed outside, she needed good things, she needed…

”Ice cream.” He continued. He then turned and gave her a sidelong smile. He didn’t need to say anything else and simply turned his head forward again. Nessa would talk when she was ready. In the meantime he would just wait. ”And don’t bother checking your pockets,” he smirked. ”I made sure to leave your phone in the apartment.”

Even when growing up, Nessa was a thin kid who could never match her brother when natural sibling squabbles occurred. Sure, she was scrappy, but he was older and bigger and stronger, and the bastard knew how to throw that weight around. She put up a fight as best she could, but he was committed to taking her out of the apartment, so that was evidently what was going to happen.

Booker was merciful enough to grab Nessa jeans on the way out and she snagged them from the air before they were out of reach. They walked down the hall—well, he did, at least. Booker engaged with their neighbors while Nessa continued to pout from his shoulder. She was not going to interact with the neighbors anyway, since that was not the person she was, but being lugged around was a decent excuse for ignoring them, at least.

They finally made it to the elevator and Nessa was on her feet, hastily pulling on her jeans, shimmying them past her hips and over her pajama shorts. That was one problem handled, at least, leaving the matter of how to best kill her brother.

Booker tried to give her the one-word vague answer, and she responded by glaring daggers at him. He was more infuriating because any incidental eye contact would not help with him, since he was a jerk who decided to be born with a perfect counter to her powers. She awaited his real answer impatiently, and he did not disappoint.

It took a few seconds to register his answer, along with his reminder that she was entirely unplugged. Slowly, it hit Nessa what her brother was doing. She rolled her eyes, but her pout dissolved into a slight smile. ”We also don’t have my wallet, so this better at least be your treat. Plus, I don’t have my ID, so there goes any hope of buying myself some rum raisin.” Not that she would, obviously. Blech.

She was not ready to talk about why he pulled her from her computer, but after some ice cream, that would probably change.

Booker cared about his sister, more than she would ever probably realize. For him, he had always blamed himself for leaving her behind when he went off to college. He never liked what their parents did to her and made it a personal mission to keep her safe. But when he left, he felt almost split in two by the decision. How could he just abandon her to the mess that was their homelife? But at the same time, how could he deny himself the opportunity of going out and earning his place in the world? She would never blame him, and had said as much, but there was still that protectiveness that Booker held. He would do what he could to keep her safe.

In this case, that meant disconnecting her from the flood of poisonous comments that were littering her videos. There were plenty of good ones, sure, but he knew his sister well enough to know that she would seek out those jabs just so she could shout back at her computer screen. No, this wasn’t healthy. For as cathartic as a good scream can be, she needed a break to get some perspective. Ice cream was a good way to get perspective.

He ignored the daggers with which she glared at him and instead kept his eyes forward. It was only when they had passed at least one floor that he muttered the focus of their expedition -- ice cream. With an additional notice that her phone wasn’t there either, he could hear the wheels clicking in her mind.

A small glance and she spotted the whisper of a smile on her lips. It was a begrudging one, however, and he couldn’t blame her: he did just scoop her up out of her bed and sling her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

>> ”We also don’t have my wallet, so this better at least be your treat. Plus, I don’t have my ID, so there goes any hope of buying myself some rum raisin.”

He snorted. ”Please, you act like this is my first kidnapping…” A light-hearted chuckle filled the air. ”...don’t worry. I got you.” He then paused. ”Of course with how much money you actually make, you should probably be treating me more often, but that’s something for us to discuss later.”

He finally turned to her and gave her a sheepish grin. He loved his sister and he only wanted what was best for her. As the elevator dinged and he stepped out, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a loving squeeze against his much bulkier body. He wouldn’t let her go until she hugged back, even if that meant that they walked like this the entire way to the ice cream shop around the corner.

Booker loved to joke about making Nessa’s life harder, but they both knew he was her biggest source of support when the chips were down. No one had been around for her so long and so loyally. Gina was an important part of her life she cherished, but Booker was her family and had experience having her back for over two decades.

Booker knew the signs of Vanessa letting public opinions drag her down, and he never failed to take it upon himself to be a positive presence and lift her out of the muck. For him, it really was as easy as carrying her away from a toxic environment and bringing her somewhere she could enjoy something simple and maybe vent her frustrations until they were gone.

Her kidnapper poked fun at her strong financials, but Nessa laughed it off. Booker was never one to seriously resent the money she managed to make, which was great, since Internet Media was still a developing space and there was always the possibility she crashed and burned taking such a risk; really, there was still a chance of that depending on how the landscape changed in the upcoming years.

For now, she was financially stable and her brother liked to tease her about it, and that was fine. ”Please, you are an independent man, and I wouldn’t want to harm your macho cred by suddenly paying for things.”

She was ready to continue, but before she could open her mouth, he was hugging her. There was a moment of surprise, but she ended up smiling sheepishly and returning the affection. ”Thanks, bro.”

>>”Please, you are an independent man, and I wouldn’t want to harm your macho cred by suddenly paying for things.”

Booker chuckled. It didn’t bother him that his sister made more money. It never had. He was actually happy for her. She deserved it. She earned her place in this world and, therefore, earned every right to reap the benefits of it. Most people gave ViewTube stars a rather hard time. They were viewed as time wasters, people who were paid big bucks for doing nothing more than waste their time recording themselves for the internet. While there was some truth as to the nature of what they did, it wasn’t all a bed of roses. Booker watched Nessa when she first started out, watched how she fought to get her videos record, edited, and uploaded. The hours of work lost because she forgot to save or because of a corrupted sound file. Ness earned her place in the world and Booker was all the more respectful of that.

Besides, it wasn’t as if an Information Professional was making chicken feed. Maybe it wasn’t as much as Nessa right now, but the future of his librarianship would only continue to grow and grow. And as much as he didn’t want it to happen, the popularity of an internet celebrity wasn’t the longest. Not that he would rub that in her face or anything. Especially not right now. So, yes, he would treat her to ice cream. It as the least he could do.

Once off the elevator, Booker wrapped his arm around her, squishing her body into his as he marched on towards the doors of the building. She didn’t have to talk about what she was feeling if she didn’t want to. The only thing he wanted was to ensure that she knew he was there whenever she needed him. And, beforelong, his hug was returned and the librarian smiled wide.

>>”Thanks, bro.”

”Gotcha fam…” he then tilted his head. ”That is how you young people say it, right?” He smirked. It didn’t bother him at all if he sounded like some dad trying to make himself sound cool. Nessa may be embarrassed, especially with how loud he said it, but that was her problem.

----

‘Da Vinci’s Cona Lisa’. The name was ridiculous, and some of the flavors were off-the-wall, hipster stuff, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t choice ice cream. The parlor itself harkened back to the old ice cream shoppe days: walls painted white, smoother tiled countertop, and a man behind the counter in a pressed white and red-striped suit. It almost felt like walking into the past; well, almost...the overly large handlebar music and smartwatch the guy wore was a dead giveaway. Still, despite those minor flaws, it was a place that Booker certainly didn’t mind being.

He stood in line next to his sister, looking over the menu options. The flavors weren’t exactly the most well know: Coconut Sticky Rice, Sweet Potato Cashew, Fried Chicken and Waffles, Bone Marrow and Bourbon Smoked Cherry, Lavender Honey, and as Booker continued to look over the list, he finally nodded and glanced to Nessa at his side.

”Oh I’m definitely getting a scoop of the Bacon Caramel Maple,” he nodded definitely. ”The Honey Jalapeno Pickle was a little out there.” He eyed her. ”I still can’t believe you ordered that last time.”

New York was a veritable cornucopia of unique food places. The ethnic diversity of foods was impressive, (as Becca never seemed to shut up about back in the day,) but the cultural fare was only one aspect of the diversity. That did not account for the bizarre. With several nexuses for hipsters and avant-garde types in the city, even everyday foods got unique and unexpected twists.

In Nessa’s estimation, no ice cream shoppe had mode hipster indie cred than Da Vinci’s Cona Lisa. It was widely regarded in Midtown as the go-to place for the weirdest flavor combinations in frozen dessert history. It was always fun to bring friends there so everyone could compare their selections, and with close enough friends, sharing a taste was pretty common.

Nessa and Booker were not the sharing types, but they did enjoy coming to Cona Lisa, since it was close enough to walk to in good weather. ”First of all, I was feeling bold, and secondly, there was that blonde working, and I wanted to impress her.” Being taken did not mean she did not want to be impressive in front of cute girls, there were just lower stakes since nothing would come of it. The blonde shoppe worker was one of those longtime innocent crushes. One did not flirt with the shoppe girls; you just thought, “gosh, she’s pretty.”

Without the blonde working today, Nessa went with a slightly more restrained option, choosing the Fruit Salad ice cream. The multicolored ice cream had different flavors in each bite, and it confused her brain. As a sorbet, it would have been normal, but the fruity flavors of melon, banana, grape, and strawberry all contrasted with the creaminess of ice cream. Still, it was tasty.

Licking the frozen treat, Nessa looked around the outdoor seating area. It was a warm day, but not sweltering, like the summer could sometimes get. ”Okay, you win; I think I needed to get out of the apartment for a bit. This is nice.”

>>”First of all, I was feeling bold, and secondly, there was that blonde working, and I wanted to impress her.”

Booker snickered. He knew of his sister’s attempts to impress others. It was legendary, to be honest. The blonde who worked behind the counter was cute, he could see that, but there was no way that he was going to waste his hard earned money on some nasty tasting ice cream. Let’s face it, while they couldn’t sell this stuff unless (someone) liked it, Booker wasn’t about to be that one person. So he would rather go for flavors that he knew went well together, no matter who it was behind the counter.

So he shrugged his shoulders. ”I’m sure Gina will love to hear that.” He was teasing, of course. There was nothing wrong with a harmless look here and there and he knew his sister well enough to know that she wouldn’t take things beyond that. She had been cheated on before, one incident had been fairly heartbreaking and recent. As much as Nessa like to look, she wasn’t going to hurt anyone she was with. Gina’s heart would be safe.

Once their ice cream was in hand, Booker took a lick, grabbed a few napkins, and headed out the door, to the sitting area. There was a delicate balance between moving the napkins into his hands, making sure he didn’t drop his ice cream, and slipping his wallet back into his pocket -- but he managed it with only a single drop of ice cream narrowly missing his leg and splashing on the concrete below. Another lick and he made his way to an empty table, Nessa close behind.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to push her. She was going through a rough patch and he knew that whenever she was that he needed to give her her space and let her come to him. She would eventually, except for those times when he quite literally needed to carry her out of her funk. But he had a feeling he wouldn’t have to wait too long this time. This wasn’t absolutely devastating news that she was getting over, just a disappointment with most of humanity -- which he was familiar with.

>>”Okay, you win; I think I needed to get out of the apartment for a bit. This is nice.”

He smirked. Approaching the seats he pulled one out for Nessa before he took one across from her. With a small sigh on his lips, he took another lick and turned his gaze to the street just on the other side of the sidewalk. He was contemplative for a moment, simply enjoying the air as it began to cool and the feeling of the light upon his skin. It really was nice out here.

”I’m glad you approve,” he smiled. ”And I especially love hearing those magical words: I win.” There was a pause before he gave her a more concerned look. ”How are you doing?”

Booker was good at teasing, but Nessa did not engage with him bringing up Gina’s name. If it came from someone else, she might defend herself or explain away their concern. Booker knew her well enough and was familiar with her dating history. He understood that cheating was a cardinal sin in Nessa’s eyes, particularly with the experiences she endured with Spencer and Becca. He poked fun, but there was no need to explain how her appreciation for pretty women did not threaten or compromise her love for her girlfriend.

They siblings settled into their seats and Vanessa conceded to her brother; he was a pain in the ass, but he was very good at looking out for her. Leaving the apartment and distancing herself from technology was good for her mental health. It was worth letting him gloat to acknowledge that she was glad to take a mental break from her frustrations.

Licking her ice cream, she was finally at a point where she was willing to answer when Booker inquired about her. Before this new calming moment, she was not in the headspace to really assess how she felt. ”I’m… better than I think I’ve been acting, I guess.” That had not struck her until she could reflect like this. ”There’s plenty of love and support out there. That’s not even talking about the team and Gina and you. Plenty of people have been really good about this and good to me.”

Vanessa sighed, biting a bit of her ice cream and swallowing before she continued. ”I think I’ve been seeking out the hate, which is dumb. Clearly.” Being in a room screaming at a screen was no one’s favorite pastime. ”I think I just wanted confirmation. I knew people like that were out there. The transphobes and the mutant haters… do they have a phobe name? Genophobe? I dunno, anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. I just… I’ve avoided all this hate for so long, and I feel like I should see it. Some people don’t get the choice. Non-passing trans girls. Mutant girls like Gina.” She could not imagine the kind of misplaced hate a grey girl with wings and horns could have to deal with, and the thought of it made her sick.

”I guess I couldn’t help but feel like, if I want to own who I am, I have to see that hate and understand what some of my brothers and sisters in this go through.”

This outing wasn’t necessarily so that he could get into his sister’s mindset, but more to just offer her a chance to step away from the thing that was irritating her the most. There was a catharsis in screaming out your frustrations, but it could only last so long. At the end of the day, Nessa needed to take a break from screaming so that she could finally just breathe; it was just as effective.

When he saw that she finally looked calm and peaceful, enjoying the fruit salad ice cream, he asked the dreaded question: how was she? It could have gone in either direction. She could either open up or she could shut down and it would be a long, quiet walk home. Booker was prepared for both, having seen both sides fo the Nessa Coin, but to his relief she sighed and took a thoughtful lick of her ice cream. It wasn’t long after that that she found her voice again.

>> ”I’m… better than I think I’ve been acting, I guess...There’s plenty of love and support out there. That’s not even talking about the team and Gina and you. Plenty of people have been really good about this and good to me.”

He nodded. Nessa was surrounded by understanding and loving people. That was probably the most important aspect of all this. But there was always that sick fascination with wondering how the other side was going to react. It was a human failing to need to know...

>>”I think I’ve been seeking out the hate, which is dumb. Clearly...I think I just wanted confirmation. I knew people like that were out there. The transphobes and the mutant haters… do they have a phobe name? Genophobe? I dunno, anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. I just… I’ve avoided all this hate for so long, and I feel like I should see it. Some people don’t get the choice. Non-passing trans girls. Mutant girls like Gina.”

Booker frowned. He knew what she was talking about but he was lucky enough to not have had to experience it for himself. Did he go out with men? Sure. Did he receive a few looks whenever he would hold hands with Javier or was seen kissing Chris out in public? Definitely. But Booker had always been the lucky type to never receive the full brunt of that kind of hate. Maybe it was his stature, maybe his sunny demeanor, whatever the case, there were few, if any, times that Booker B. Bookman had to raise his fists or shout back at some fearmonger.

Unfortunately for people like Nessa and Gina, they weren’t as lucky. Nessa faced the cruelty of her parents and not the collective voice of the unenlightened side of the internet. Gina, god bless her sweet soul, stuck out like a sore thumb but she rode it like a expert surfer on tsunami. No matter how you handled it, it was a hell of a thing to experience.

>>”I guess I couldn’t help but feel like, if I want to own who I am, I have to see that hate and understand what some of my brothers and sisters in this go through.”

Watching his sister for a moment, Booker sighed as she turned his gaze forward and looked out over the street again. He watched as people passed, some mutants, some not, and took another lick of his frozen treat. He was contemplative for a few moments before he lowered his cone. Taking up the napkin he dabbed his lips before he spoke up.

”’Let us all be brave enough to die the death of a martyr, but let no one lust for martyrdom…’ -- Gandhi.” Another lap of his cone and he finally turned to her, a small smile on his lips. ”You’ve taken your stand, Nessa. And you’ll always stand for those who need to be stood up for...but that doesn’t mean you need to keep subjecting yourself to that much hate. They wouldn’t want that...Gina wouldn’t want that…” Reaching other, his hand found her shoulder where he gave her a soft squeeze. ”...and your brother doesn’t want that.”

Vanessa was imperfect, just like anyone else, but she did strive to be good. She did her best to keep to pescatarianism, she advocated for womens’ rights and gay rights, while trying to not be a total bitch to men and straight folk who were not actively shouting at her. Now that she was publicly entering two new minority roles, she was inclined to seek out the challenge and shoulder burdens, because that was what she saw as the logical way to advocate for her causes.

In moments like this, it was good to have her brother around. She always saw Booker as the one who could see the big picture and take a step back, seeing the forest for the trees, while Vanessa was firmly entrenched in the thick of things, trying to chop down one tree at a time. Booker provided her with a healthy amount of perspective, and at times, she was sorely lacking in that.

>> ”’Let us all be brave enough to die the death of a martyr, but let no one lust for martyrdom…’ -- Gandhi. You’ve taken your stand, Nessa. And you’ll always stand for those who need to be stood up for...but that doesn’t mean you need to keep subjecting yourself to that much hate. They wouldn’t want that...Gina wouldn’t want that… and your brother doesn’t want that.”

He was right. Of course he was; he had an annoying habit of being right. In this instance, she would let it pass. She felt guilty for not doing more sooner and not “taking her lumps,” but the people who really cared about and supported her were not looking for her to even up some suffering score. ”I guess there are better ways to celebrate being part of a community than seeking out the people who are mad I’m in it.” Why focus on the hate when she could focus on the good?

Vanessa took a big bite of her ice cream and let it melt on her tongue before she finally continued. ”Okay. When I go back, I’ll close out that video. I’ll go onto some community message boards instead; look for the love instead of the hate.” Trans, gay, and mutant community websites were usually good at filtering out the trolls and the hate. This was likely her healthiest plan since uploading her video.

The younger sister nudged Booker’s shoulder with her own. ”Thanks. With little trips like this, people are going to start thinking you care about me.”

Booker smirked as he looked over his sister. He would deny it but the reality was that he looked up to his sister. She was brave in a way that he wasn’t entirely sure he ever would be. Early on she made a decision about her life and stuck to her guns, knowing that it would be the hardest path that she would follow. but in the end it led her to a happiness that she deserved. That alone was worth being inspiring. That was why he hated to see her beat herself up so soundly. If there was one that Nessa could do, it was step down off the cross and just live her life; she earned it.

His tongue ran over the ice cream, letting the cool treat numb his taste buds. He let his words hang in the air as Nessa mulled them over. A few moments passed as he looked out across the street, to the sidewalk, to the passing cars, then he heard that soft intake of breath. His gaze drifted back as his sister finally responded.

>>”I guess there are better ways to celebrate being part of a community than seeking out the people who are mad I’m in it.”

He nodded and lifted his ice cream to her. ”Smartest thing I heard all day.” He grinned. ”You know, aside from what I had just said.” A wink as he turned back to his vanishing ice cream.

>>”Okay. When I go back, I’ll close out that video. I’ll go onto some community message boards instead; look for the love instead of the hate.”

Another nod. It sounded like a plan to him. Nessa would be okay. She would have found her footing sooner rather than later, but she needed this nudge and he was all too happy to provide it. And speaking of nudges, a soft one was felt against his shoulder, causing him to turn his attention back to the woman at his side. She gave him a sincere and sisterly smile.

>>”Thanks. With little trips like this, people are going to start thinking you care about me.”

He snorted, unable to hide his smile. He took a second before he nudged her back, catching her arm just as she was about to go in for another lick of her ice cream, causing it to smear across her nose. ”There. That should give me my rep back.” He chuckled. As he laughed, he looked across the street. There, somewhat hidden in the shadows of an alley, he could see someone. A woman, athletic and well-toned, was dressed darkly and holding up her phone. Immediately he noted her poor attempts to hide the fact that she was taking pictures. Booker assumed that she was just an overzealous fan of Nessa’s trying to snag a few photos. ”Just in time too,” he noted as he pointed out the person to Nessa. ”Looks like one of your rabid fans caught you on candid camera.”

Nessa was not dumb. She could put two and two together on her own most of the time. Her schooling was cut unfortunately short, but she had finished her GRE and no one was going to seriously call her an idiot. Really, the problem was how impulsive and hard-headed she could be. She would go on a path and suddenly, that was the only thing in her vision.

Nessa would still tell anyone that Booker was the brilliant sibling (as long as she was out of his earshot.) She was proud of him for all he accomplished and the man he was, and it paid to have a brother who was not such a hot-head and could step back and remind her that she was holding to a dead-end road.

With the genuine mushy stuff out of the way, they could safely go back to teasing one another. As he said, they had a rep to maintain. The timing was good, too, as no sooner did she nudge him, a woman nearby was snapping a picture of them.

That was a surprise, honestly. Most people who recognized her came up and said hello. She could be cantankerous on screen, but the community knew she was more approachable than that. She was not the kind of famous where you had to worry about paparazzi, so the woman’s actions just did not add up.

”Okay, that’s weird. I don’t know if she’s doing that because she’s a fan or she’s trying to document the low-tier of society I associate with.” Vanessa took a chance and waved at the woman, just to signify she was aware of her presence. Now she could see what happened next. Maybe she would get closer; from this distance, Nessa could not meet her eyes properly.