Hope

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* Hope Nysolm

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*Remember to check what links here and the page history before deletion.* Hope Nysolm is an alpha character played by Amy Vorpahl. Her older brother is Hal. In the modern world, she is in a band with Hal and her boyfriend Lorenzo.

## Character Introduction

I woke up with the sun, as usual. It never ceased to surprise me that I responded like clockwork to daylight. Probably because if it's the day side of dawn it means that Lorenzo's passed out. I dragged my aching body out of bed and searched the apartment for where my boyfriend had unwillingly ended his bender the night before. For a long time it seemed that his tolerance for vice was expanding, but recently he was blacking out earlier and earlier. Part of me wished one day he would never wake up, but right now I just wished that Lorenzo hadn't passed out in the - aw shit - the bathroom again. I hated when that was the room where his body decided to just shut down. I could navigate around the kitchen whether he was in a chair or on the floor. The living room was easy because he usually slept face down in the couch and I could creep around and through the room and out the door without waking him up. Even if he did, I would in my car driving to the studio before he would even be able to stand up. He never fell asleep in the bedroom. Hal had helped me put a lock on the door from the inside, and I used it any chance I got. But midnight Lorenzo in the bathroom just sucked. I couldn't get ready for my day without waking him up. Showers and toilets were loud. I sighed, threw on a T-shirt and jeans, grabbed my ukulele, and texted my brother, "Hey Hal, coming over," and added a purple-faced devil emoji which was our code for Lorenzo.

I used to have to keep it a secret, but I didn't care any more. He knew I was trying to leave him, but that I couldn't. He knew that Hal wanted him out of the band, but couldn't fire him. He knew the Nysholm siblings wished he was out of their lives, but he found that funny, 'cos all three of them knew that Lorenzo would be around for as forever as they could imagine.

I popped open my trunk, and as I hefted my ukulele case into the trunk, a sharp pain ran up my side and I groaned. I forgot about last night. That's where he had hit me. He was super fucked up and yelled until I came out of the bedroom. I tried to lay him down but he got too physical and I pushed away from him. He struck out for my face - his usual target - but because of my Muay Thai training I had done the past year, I had already backed away and turned, so his knuckles only hit the side of my ribs. I've had worse. The training helped, but I wasn't a born fighter - I still couldn't bring myself to hurt anyone in real life, and my first major defence was running away. Still with Lorenzo's slowed movement, I'd been able to dodge most of his blows. When I got to Hal's, his focused and frowning eyes quickly examined me before scanning his front yard.

"Relax dude, he's still asleep, just in the bathroom." Hal said,

"Your face looks OK", and I said,

"My ribs."

"What! I'm gonna...," and I said,

"No, you're not. Can I use your shower?"

Hal was an incredibly generous, loving and protective older brother. At one point, Hal and Lorenzo had been extremely close. They were the only members of their band back in high school, but then Hal left for college and Lorenzo hung back to take classes at community college and date me. I wound up leaving town to go to college too, and it wasn't until years later when the three of us came back together and really put effort into the band. We were successful. Then we were really successful. Then, after a few more years and one especially popular song, we were famous. And that's when everything went wrong.

I kept my overnight stuff at my brother's, so I got ready quickly and headed out. Before I cleared the front door, though, Hal caught me.

"Hope!"

"I'm fine, Hal. Thanks for the shower."

"I just wanna make sure."

I hugged him. He wanted to have a conversation that wasn't possible to have. I smiled.

"Look, I gotta get to the studio early. There are a few tunes I need to nail down before I pitch them to you guys."

Hal smiled back. To him I was the definition of creativity and my music seemed to be the only thing that could ever help me. It helped me more than he could, he thought. I waved as I drove away, but I parked a block away. I coughed over and over, long and hard and ugly, until I stopped. And then I made my way to the studio.