A friend of mine is an influencer who tests new products every day.

One day, he tested an electric razor and found it to be really good, so he recommended it to me.

I happened to be hanging out at his place, so I gave it a try myself and thought it was not bad. I sent a link for my brother to pay for it on my behalf.

"It didn't hurt the first time, very smooth."

My brother called me, his voice icy, "First time? Tyler Wynn, who are you with now?"

Usually, my brother just pays for me directly, so why is he questioning me today?

"My friend, Ethan Wilde, you know him."

"You used his?"

I didn't place an order yet, of course I used his.

"Yeah, he loves to buy all these random new products."

My brother seemed to sigh with relief:

"It's not a person, it's a tool?"

"Of course it's a tool, what did you think?"

I can't just have Ethan shave me, that'd be super awkward, two grown men.

"Is it manual or automatic?"

"Automatic."

Who uses a manual razor these days?

There was a long silence, so long I could almost hear my brother's heavy breathing, and he asked:

"Did it go in?"

How could I put the whole beard inside? I'm a bit of a germaphobe, I don't like using things others have used; that's why I sent the link for him to buy me a new one. So:

"No, I just grazed it on the side."

"That's good." My brother then asked, "How does it feel?"

I recalled the sensation of the razor and commented, "It doesn't hurt, quite comfortable actually. It's also very clean afterward."

"Doing it so publicly..."

"What publicly?" I wasn't quite sure I heard correctly.

"No pain because his is too small, right?"

I was shocked, "Huh? How do you even know that? It's indeed quite mini."

The brand sent over a full-size and a mini version. I found the full-size one had Ethan's stubble on it, so I only grazed with it, primarily using the mini one.

The breathing on the other end intensified, my brother's voice seemed squeezed out from panting, "Then, do you want to try if it hurts?"

"No way, how much could it hurt?"

It's just shaving, why does my brother seem so cautious?

"It could bleed. I'll do my best not to make you bleed."

Improper use of a razor can indeed cause bleeding.

Wait, is my brother really planning to shave me himself?

And his technique is so bad he could cut someone? How much does he want to use me as a test subject?

"There's no need to trouble you with this."

My brother's voice suddenly got louder, "If not me, who else do you want to trouble?"

Startled, I instinctively lowered my volume, "I can do it myself."

"Tyler Wynn, be good."

The words "be good" were like a spell; when my relationship with my brother wasn't so great, he used to punch me hard, making me obey.

Because of that, now whenever I hear those words, I have a conditioned reflex.

"Then, then help me, bro."

"Tyler Wynn, you're really a good kid for your brother."

My brother's name is Mason Wynn.

Before I was ten, I used to call him by his name directly.

At that time, my mom had just married his dad, and he didn't like having a new little brother suddenly, and I thought having an older brother was quite a hassle.

He couldn't stand me, and I never gave him a good look either.

Until the year I turned fifteen, the girl I had a crush on rejected me and went to confess to Mason Wynn.

In a fit of anger, I rushed into his room and gave him a hard punch.

Mason Wynn, being prideful, couldn't stand such an act, and directly pinned me on the bed to hit me.

He pressed my legs, locked both of my arms with one hand, flipped me over, and spanked me repeatedly.

I never thought he would bully me in such a humiliating way.

It made me cry from embarrassment.

Hearing my suppressed sobs, Mason Wynn turned me over, and I still remember the look on his face.

He pinched my face, and I could feel the tears in my eyes sliding onto the back of his hand.

He wiped my tears and asked from above, "Tyler, will you behave yourself?"

Revenge can wait ten years for a gentleman.

I sobbed and replied, "I'll behave, please stop hitting me."

"Call me brother."

With a hoarse voice, I called, "Brother."

The sunlight was too glaring, and I seemed to catch sight of a faint smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Looking closely, that obscure smile was gone.

From then on, whenever we met, he would make me call him brother.

Not only that, even though my classroom was on the other side of the campus from his, he would take the long way to pick me up after school.

As time went by, everyone knew I had a brother.

However, Mason Wynn was quite controlling and didn't like me talking too much with girls; he would get angry if he saw it.

"Haven't I told you, the prettier the girls, the more deceptive they are. You wouldn't want to be deceived, would you?"

Frightened, I repeatedly said, "I don't want to."

Mason Wynn would gently pat my head and praise, "Tyler is such a good kid. But since you've done something wrong, today's punishment can't be skipped."

At some point, my brother set up rules for me: to make friends, I needed his approval, and I had to report to him when going out.

If I violated them, I would be punished.

At first, it was just spanking, then making me learn to bend backward, and later it even became squatting like a horse stance, claiming it was to train my leg muscles to gain strength.

If I couldn't persist, I had to start over.

After each punishment, I would be exhausted, thinking it would be better just to get spanked.

But it seemed ever since Mason Wynn turned eighteen, he rarely spanked me anymore.

I think maybe my brother got tired of that way of punishment.

My close relationship with Mason Wynn only began to change the day he went to college.

Just thinking that I wouldn't have Mason Wynn to pick me up from school and buy me gifts in the future made me feel a sudden sadness, and I ended up hugging him and crying.

Who would have thought I would be so reluctant to let him go?

Or maybe I was just reluctant to lose my walking ATM.

In any case, I was really heartbroken, my heart aching.

My mom and his dad laughed at me, "Your brother is just going to college, not leaving home forever."

Mason Wynn gently patted my back, saying, "Make sure to call your brother every day, okay?"

I nodded tearfully.

He pinched my reddened face again and sighed helplessly, "Tyler, you need to hurry up and turn eighteen."

After Mason Wynn started college, he began his own business with Dad's support, while still attending classes every day.

Still, he would always find time to call me, asking about my studies, inquiring about who I had been hanging out with lately.

Until I also got into the same university as Mason Wynn.

By then, Mason Wynn already had his own company and wasn't often around at school.

And I was only two months away from turning eighteen.

Time really flies when you think about it.

My phone vibrated in my hand, and when I looked down, I saw the caller ID.

It was Mason Wynn.

A day and a night had passed since Mason Wynn told me to "behave."

I answered the call, and Mason Wynn's voice, tinged with a hint of alcohol, came through: "Tyler Wynn, where are you now? Why is no one home?"

At just twenty years old, Mason Wynn already had the imposing presence of a leader.

When I first started college, Mason Wynn rented me an apartment outside, saying that living with roommates might affect my studies, so he let me live with him.

When Mason Wynn wasn't busy, he spent most of his time at home.

When he got busy, I was left alone there.

In his drunken state, Mason Wynn's emotions were more expressive, and he was quite insistent about my situation: "Come back home, don't stay out overnight. How many times have I told you?"

I had been staying at Ethan Wilde's place these two days. After saying goodbye to Ethan, I headed home.

"Tyler Wynn, don't you think it's weird how you and your brother are?"

I was puzzled: "What's weird about it?"

"He's so strict with you, if you didn't say he's your brother, I'd think you were dating."

I chuckled and patted Ethan's shoulder: "You're overthinking it. My brother is just worried about me, that's all. Besides, how could it be possible between two men..."

As I was leaving, Ethan Wilde watched me with an inexplicable look in his eyes.