Gabriel
“The high-minded man must care more for the truth than for what people think.” —ARISTOTLE
“You sure you’ll be okay while I’m gone?”
“Yes, Mom,” I snap, not bothering to look up from my phone. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
“There’s frozen pizza if you get hungry.” Mom comes over and kisses me on the top of my head.
I don’t respond. We used to be close, but lately she’s been getting on my nerves. Always hovering and nagging, like she knows what’s best for me. But I’m eighteen now. A man. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
Mom finally leaves, out on another date with some loser.
I never knew my dad, and Mom’s treated herself like a revolving door for men for as long as I can remember.
Growing up, it would bother me—being the kid with the single mom who worked all the time.
She rarely made it to my sporting events, and if she did, she spent the entire game flirting with my teammate’s dads in the stands.
But it wasn’t until recently that I realized it’s not her fault. The Brotherhood helped me understand that she’s a victim of the system that raised her—a system that told her she can do everything instead of doing only the thing she was made for.
Instead of choosing a strong, capable man to be the father of her child, she got knocked up by some deadbeat and was forced to work in order to care for me.
The Brotherhood wants to change that, to give women the opportunity to fulfill their true purpose as wives and mothers while raising a new generation of men.
Men who will lead this country to a future of prosperity.
I want to be a part of that movement, to be known as someone influential and important.
To have my legacy be more than the son of a whore.
I’ve been following them since the beginning, been a part of their online communities since they first popped up on my feed.
As soon as they started meeting in person, I joined the local chapter and have been attending their sessions for the last several months.
I’ve found a real community there—a group of like-minded men who understand me, encourage me, and inspire me.
I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to be a part of their organization, to help their mission come to fruition.
Tonight is the night I finally get to prove myself.
I get in my car and head toward the meeting, driving past my best friend’s house on the way.
There’s a For Sale sign in the front yard, and my knuckles tighten on the steering wheel.
I run my hand through my hair and take a deep breath, forcing away my irritation.
Maverick and I have been like brothers since we were five years old, but we’ve been drifting apart for a while now.
I’ve tried talking to him about the Brotherhood, tried to convince him to join, but he’s rejected our tenets.
He doesn’t understand how important this is for me, but how could he?
He grew up with two loving parents, a stable home, a father—even if Mr. Stetson is too soft for my tastes.
Mav will never know how important it is for me to make a name for myself, to prove that I can become someone despite my subpar upbringing.
I arrive and park outside of the building we use for meetings—a decommissioned Catholic Church on the outskirts of town—and head inside, eager to hear what task I’ll be given for my initiation. My heart is beating a little faster than normal, but I’m more excited than anything.
I’m greeted with welcoming handshakes and claps on the back. The leader of our city’s chapter approaches me, offering his hand. “Are you ready?”
I nod. “Yes, sir.”
Gentry smiles. He’s been like a father to me over these past few months, the father I never had. “Good man.”
I take my seat among the other initiates as we await direction from Gentry. He stands at the podium, addressing the group. “Welcome, gentlemen. Tonight is a very special night. Our newest members will complete their initiation and become official members of our brotherhood.”
The room erupts in cheers, but I refuse to participate. This isn’t some frat party. This is my future.
“We all know how women are these days. Provocative, entitled, impudent. These women are dangerous. They threaten the very fabric of society. Aristotle—one of the greatest philosophers of all time and a man whose principals have guided us from the beginning—knew the truth: women were made to be ruled over by men. And so, your task is simple. To prove you are ready to be one of us, you must first prove you have what it takes to put a woman in her proper place.”
The room is so silent I can hear the uneven breathing of the man next to me, hear the creaking of the folding chairs as the men adjust in their seats.
Gentry continues. “You will remind a woman that she is inferior. You will show her how powerless she is against you. Only then will you be welcomed into the fold.”
He didn’t say it outright, but we all know what’s being asked—no, required—of us. Fortunately, I have just the woman in mind.
“If you have any hesitations, perhaps the Brotherhood isn’t for you. Evidence of your initiation is mandatory, either with an eyewitness account or via video. Any questions?”
The guy next to me is as pale as a ghost. He stands and rushes out of the room with a stuttered apology. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
Gentry nods, as if he was expecting that outcome. “Anyone else?”
No one else defects.
“Take these.” We’re handed masks that will keep us anonymous as an extra precaution. “You have until midnight. We’ll be waiting here.”
I pull out my phone and get to work. She hasn’t blocked me on socials yet, and with her public settings, it’s easy enough to figure out where she is tonight.
Out at some club, drunk with her friends, just like every other Friday night.
Honestly, I can’t believe I ever found her wild, slutty behavior attractive.
Walking back to my car, I’m surprised to hear my name called in the parking lot. “Hey, Gabriel!”
I turn around to find three other initiates around my age: Brandon, Thomas, and Theo. “You got a girl in mind?”
I nod, resolute. “Yeah.”
“Can we tag along? In case she’s got friends?”
I bark a laugh. Amanda’s friends are part of the reason we broke up in the first place. They never liked me, and they weren’t subtle about it, either. “Hop in.”
We pile into my car and drive to the bar where they’re at. Once inside, I spot her almost immediately in the center of the dance floor. I make my way across the room, and she’s so drunk she doesn’t even object when she realizes I’m there. “Oh my god, Gabe! How are you?”
She’s hanging all over me, like we’re old pals or some shit. Apparently she forgot that she cheated on me and then dumped my ass. “Hey, Mandy. Can I buy you a drink?”
She gives me a glassy-eyed smile. “As long as you promise there are no hard feelings between us.”
There won’t be after tonight, I think. “Promise.”
Several rounds of shots later, we—along with the guys and Amanda’s friends—all walk out together. My ex is so drunk she’s practically passed out standing up. Her friends insist on calling her a ride, but I assure them she’ll get home safe. I’m a man of word, after all.
After that, it’s all too easy. We set up the camera and do what we need to do to ensure our future as brothers. Amanda’s so far gone she barely even protests.
Once we’re done, I make good on my promise and drop her off at home, content to never see her face again.
We return to the meeting hall and show Gentry and the others the video. The group of brothers surrounds us, shaking our hands and offering their congratulations.
“Welcome to the Brotherhood.”
We’re branded on our chests right above our hearts, a small “B>” to symbolize our greatest tenet. I barely feel it, barely smell the burning of my own flesh.
We share celebratory drinks as my brothers recount our evening. Already, words like legendary are used to describe my actions tonight. Already, they see me as someone to revere.
The drive home is a blur.
I puke my guts out, coming to terms with the choices I’ve made to earn my place. To belong.
It will all be worth it.
It has to be worth it.
There’s no going back now.