Marcus sat against the headboard, his right hand wrapped in plaster and pins. The painkillers slurred his words as he tried to dictate his college essay. "Say I learned grit from football," he mumbled, then drifted off mid-sentence. Theo sat at the laptop, the cursor blinking. The deadline was midnight. His brother couldn't type a single word, so Theo would have to do it for him.

Theo shook Marcus awake. "I can't write this for you. It's your college, your future." Marcus blinked, foggy and slow. "Just finish it, please. I trust you." Then he was out again. Theo sat there, stuck between waking him a second time and just doing it himself.

Theo decided not to wake Marcus again. He'd write a draft, save it, and let his brother approve every word in the morning. He typed carefully, trying to sound like Marcus and not like himself. The cursor finally stopped blinking and started moving.

Theo finished the draft but couldn't stop tweaking it, polishing until it stopped sounding like Marcus at all. By morning it was good, just not his brother's. Marcus read it and frowned. "This is a great essay. It's just not mine." They had to start over.