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◇ dreaming big

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Ezra had mastered the art of looking nonchalant while very much being a pathological perfectionist. He seemingly soared through life without struggle, cramming study hours—because, although it wasn’t required to make it into the LFB, he refused to be average and wanted a proper bachelor’s degree—plus workout hours, as well as the LFB training program into his schedule. His calendar was a tight, color-coded organized mess, and he moved from one thing to the next with surgical precision.

He was doomed to burnout, but he didn’t even contemplate the thought, because all he cared about at the moment was making it into the brigade. He couldn’t be bothered with frivolities like personal ties and distractions. After passing the fitness tests with record-breaking results, he needed to measure up to the brigade’s expectations of him.

And so he studied, trained, religiously respected his circadian rhythm, and set reminders across the board to make sure he didn’t forget anything—including things like “check on Ian,” which had once been instinctive but was now just one more chore on the list. One more box to tick.

But if his brother noticed, he didn’t say anything. After all, Ezra was still there, following every step of his journey. Celebrating every win.

“So, now what?” he asked after his brother went on a five-minute rant over the phone about how nerve-wracking his live audition had been.

"What d’you mean? That’s it, Ez. Got an experience outta the whole thing, now I just keep workin’ on my thing." His brother’s voice sounded perfectly even and plain. The voice of a man who didn’t dare to dream big.

Ezra scoffed. He was an Eicher. They came from nothing and were destined for everything, and he’d be damned if he didn’t teach his brother that.

"Tell you what. By the end of the year, I’ll be a firefighter. And you’ll be Trial by Fire’s new guitarist."

"You’re fuckin’ delusional," Ian laughed.

"I'm bloody right."