Jump on your dark warhorse and trot past

Houses of ill-repute

Walls hold a lot to think about

Normally you'd go to the slammer for this

But today we'll give you a free pass

One minute you're here and the next you're costing

I'm the forgotten one

Everyone is missing sometimes

You're looking at the lost degradation

I'm the wasted one

You don't wanna be beautiful like me

Releasing at night, reckless harming

You call and say I'm silent

Cessation, let's talk about the cessation

One minute you're here and the next you're releasing

Off to see the world lacking at night

We are existing, let's talk about existing

Our love is like the dialback

Recklessly draining, harmlessly surrounding

You must think that I'm passing

I live my life as if I'm happy

But I'm not when you're missing

Our love is like the mourning

You're looking at the silent losses

Recklessly waiting, silently dying

Passing, let's talk about passing

You don't wanna be happy like me

I'm the lost one

So just stop your damaging

As we trot on this dark horse

Past these houses of ill-repute

The song Dark Horse

Lyrics by: Orion Bauwens

"So I have some questions for you," I say.

"Me?" Amy looks surprised, hand to her chest.

I chuckle. "Well of course. I don't know you."

"Okay go ahead."

"Did you like my music before or after our mom told you who I was?"

"Before."

I raise my right eyebrow.

"Seriously."

I cross my arms.

"Seriously Orion! The first time she told me I thought she was pulling my leg because she knew how much I liked your band."

I smile a little. I'm still not sure if I believe her. As if she read my mind, she points to the closed door. "You can go ask her--"

I laugh and hold up my hands. "No need, I believe you."

There's a few moments of awkward silence. Then I speak.

"So, how all did that go down? I mean, you guys finding out about me."

"Mom was always super up front with the fact she had another son," she says. "When we were little she just said that you lived far away and we might never meet you. Then as we grew up she gave us little bits of the story here and there."

I'm listening raptly now, my elbow on my knee, resting my chin in my hand.

"She didn't tell us your name until recently though--after my dad died..."

"I'm so sorry about that, by the way."

She puts some of her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I'm not gonna lie--especially to you because you pour your heart and soul into your albums--it's been hard. So thank you.

"But yeah. Three years ago she finally told us your name. And then last year she told us who you were...I nearly fainted!"

I laugh. "I can imagine."

"But..." she says, looking a little sad. "Mom was also really up front about how we probably were never going to meet you. That you'd never be a part of our lives. It made us really sad."

When she looks at me I have to swallow a lump in my throat away. I run my hand through my hair with a sigh. "I'm still... shocked you guys are so... welcoming to me."

She tilts her head to the side. "Why wouldn't we be?"

I laugh at her innocence. "Because I haven't been around? Because I'm basically a stranger? Heck, I am a stranger! For as worried as my friends are that you guys have some ulterior motive, I'm surprised you're not equally worried about me having ulterior motives. I could be a bad person for all you know."

My sister frowns deeply, furrowing her brow. "You're famous--what on Earth would you have to take from us? Your friends think we're going to swindle you or something?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. My friends are just... worried about me." I look off to the side. "I'm going through a lot right now and they just don't want me to get hurt, yaknow?"

"I guess...but I still don't get what you'd do to us."

"I don't know. Maybe this is just because I'm so jaded but...What if I was a psychopath? What if I like..." I almost said killed you in your sleep but that was too messed up. I couldn't say that to my little sister. "I d'no, what if I was a kleptomaniac, tied you all up, and stole everything?"

"Are you a kleptomaniac?"

"Well, no, it was just an example--"

She grins. "See?! We have nothing to worry about!"

I laugh. "You really are Anna."

She sticks her tongue out at me.

"You just further proved my point..."

More silence.

"So what else should I know about you?" I ask. I stop my spinning and look at her, leaning forward.

"I can't believe Orion Bauwens is asking me questions!" She grins. "I'm sorry, this is going to take some getting used to."

I accidentally giggle.

"But I mean, at least it's not worse--at least I don't have a crush on you anymore. Now that would've been weird--"

My face completely drops. "Um, what?"

"Oh yeah," she says. Once again her blunt, innocent honesty does nothing but remind me of the fictional character from that kids movie. "You're my favorite singer from my favorite band. But once mom told me who you were--" she screws up her face dramatically and sticks out her tongue. "Blah! No. No no no no no."

"Well this just got slightly awkward," I reply with a laugh.

Her eyes go wide and she shakes her hands in front of her. "Hey, like I said, the second mom said you were my brother I wanted to puke--"

It's then I notice a small instrument case lying in the middle of the room. My brow furrows.

"Hey. You shouldn't leave your flute in the middle of the floor. It could get stepped on."

"--wait, what? Flute?"

I point at the black case.

"Oh! My flute!" She rolls her eyes. "Oh whatever, I don't care. Not like I'm very good at it anyway."

Glowering I roll myself forward, pick up the instrument, and toss it on the bed. Then I roll back and cross my arms. "I'm guessing mom pays for that instrument?"

Amy looks guilty and I narrow my eyes.

"I'm sure she'd care if something happened to an expensive instrument she was paying for. That can't be easy, paying for an instrument on one income with three kids."

She bites her lip and looks off to the side.

"If anything else, have some respect for the instrument itself, okay?"

"S-sorry..."

"And if your only reason for not caring is because you're not very good, I'll help you."

Her head pops up. "What did you say?"

"I said I'll help you."

Her eyes go huge. "You. Will help me?"

"Yeah. I'm classically trained. I was in orchestra during grade school and high school."

"I think I might faint."

"Please don't."

She laughs.

"Seriously Amy," I say, leaning back in my chair, "anytime I visit I'll be your private instructor, okay?"

She suddenly looks like she might cry. I'm immediately alarmed. "What? What's wrong? Oh God, what did I do? I'm so sorry for whatever I did."

"You said, 'anytime you visit'," she says, stubbornly not letting the tears fall. "That means you plan on visiting again after Christmas."

"Oh..."

"You will, won't you?"

"Well, yeah..." I scratch the back of my neck nervously. "I mean, assuming I'm welcome here."

"This is a dream come true," Amy says earnestly. "The second I was old enough, and really understood the situation, I always prayed you'd come to us."

I feel myself blush.

"I felt so bad, knowing there was a guy out there who would never know his true family, and how lonely that must be. It's heartbreaking. No one should be alone like that, no one in the whole entire world."

I want to explain to her how adoptions work, that not everyone who is adopted knows it. I want to tell her that I might've gone my entire life not knowing she even existed, but that I was told I was adopted. I want to tell her just how many kids and adults are walking around in the world, carrying the exact same burden and hardship she just described. I want to tell her how I am one of the lucky ones because this all worked out.

But Amy is Anna, and I want her to stay like that until Hans comes around and snuffs out her innocence. I'm not going to be Hans for her. So instead of ruining everything I simply keep my mouth shut and smile.