Chapter Forty-seven: Potato Head

Chapter 47

Potato Head

Fabien stepped out of the shower and slipped on a clean pair of briefs and green plaid pajama bottoms. He saw Craig sitting on the couch in his underwear pouting. Fabien threw his arms up and sat by him.

Fabien: “Craig, I know you’re incapable of giving advice or understanding my situation so I went to someone who does understand. I don’t want to go to your ex and have him predict my ‘future’ with his shitty cards. A card isn’t going to predict anything. Tristan knows people, reads between the lines, studies their patterns, and knows my father. You have your skills and he has his. I wanted to vent to someone who understood me…”

He said in a firm tone indicating he wasn’t to be crossed.

Craig: “So, you went to ice dick?!”

He gaped at him.

Fabien: “Yes!”

He snapped.

Craig: “...You went to him before you went to me…”

He said with hurt in his tone and hung his head. Fabien drew a long breath.

Fabien: “And I don’t want to come home to a mess. You’re not a child anymore. Pick up after yourself.”

Craig pouted.

Fabien closed his eyes and leaned over rubbing his temples.

Fabien: “You’re not about giving me emotional support… You’re good at protecting me by beating people up and being my muscle. I do love and appreciate that but that isn’t what I need right now, Craig! I need emotional support and I know you cannot give me that. I am not going to ask you for something you cannot give me!”

He said doggedly.

Craig: “Fuckin’ oath, I am! Emotional support?! I can do that! I can hold ya while you cry!”

He stretched his arms out and held him close. Fabien smiled and shivered.

Fabien: “That is true… But Tristan couldn't figure out why my father was coming here. He’s good at detective work, you know? But he knows how people work as well as I do. He suggested an old case he did.”

He locked his gaze on him.

Craig: “Pfft, he's probably here for some sheila!”

He shrugged. Fabien twisted his mouth.

Fabien: “I don’t think we know anyone by that name.”

He scanned the ceiling thinking back.

Craig: “Nah, nah, that's how we Aussies say woman! Maybe he's chasin’ some chick here?”

He waved his hands.

Fabien: “Oh, I don’t think so. Father is married to Mother and he’s dedicated to her.”

He laughed a bit.

Fabien: “Go to your ex? Yeah, he’ll give me a card with the tower and say everything will crash down on me because of its weak foundation. The next card will be the hanged man because I am sacrificing everything for you or something. Andreas will tell me I have all these problems because of you and thinks you’re my reason for why this is happening. He claims you’re obsessed with him but it’s the reverse if you ask me.”

He said in an annoyed tone and shrugged. Craig scoffed and pouted, feeling like he was the problem.

Fabien: “I had these issues long before I met you.”

Craig smiled a bit

Craig: “R-Really? I'm not the problem?!”

Fabien shook his head.

Fabien: “I never said you were. Andreas thinks you’re the problem.”

Craig: “Yeah, well, he always made me feel like I was the problem ‘n everything was my fault.”

He huffed.

Fabien: “He never was your person. He loves sticks in the mud who get their tattoos done by drunks and their haircut at blind barbers.”

He snorted. Craig scoffed and laughed.

Craig: “My tatts are better!”

He said loftily.

Fabien: “I know what it is and it’s not scribbling shit.”

Fabien: “All jesting aside, he wasn’t your person. He never loved you in your language but kept forcing those stupid cards down your throat. I recognize your skills and weaknesses. They’re not dealbreakers.”

He said earnestly.

Craig: “Pfft, I hate those stupid cards!”

He folded his arms.

Fabien: “It’s a card game… It won’t predict your future. You can somewhat control that. A card isn’t going to tell you everything but whatever helps him sleep at night. I love how Tristan confronted him on avoiding shit after Andreas said Tristan tries to save Deimos.”

He laughed. Craig tuned out, he didn’t care for Deimos and Tristan’s melodramas.

Fabien: “He told me he said Andreas avoids what you did to him and he has to face it. I think he has to face the fact that he tried to control you and couldn’t.”

He snorted.

Craig: “What?! You reckon he was tryin’ to control me?”

He gaped at him.

Fabien: “Of course, he was. He wanted you to be like him.”

He shrugged.

Fabien leaned on Craig and flicked his gaze to some flyers. He picked them up and flipped through them pointing to Jello Pudding Roll-ups.

Fabien: “Celeste wants me to feed her these with my feet… and eat Slime Slurps off feet and have me pour some Ecto Cooler down my feet for her to drink from.”

He chuckled.

Craig: “What the fuck?!? Why the fuck?! Why don't she use a plate?”

Fabien: “ ‘cause my feet are better…”

He raised his foot and flexed his toes.

Craig: “Fuckin’ oath!”

He grinned at him.

Fabien heard someone on the baby monitor and turned up the volume.

~

At Tristan’s house, Tristan was in the kitchen at the island scrutinizing The Disappearing Man and other Mysteries by Isaac Asimov that he received from Foxy Robin’s. Victor and Celeste were also in the kitchen. Victor had plastic gloves as he shaped the chicken mixture into nugget pieces.

Celeste: “Victor is making me nuggets, Tristan! Why are you still looking at that book?”

She asked.

Tristan: “Apparently, you don’t get books in nightclubs and not many know I love to read during parties, sans Fabien and Deimos.”

Victor smiled at Tristan.

Victor: “Oh, I knew you did!”

Tristan: “Someone gave this to me, Papa.”

Victor: “Maybe Deimos did?”

He suggested. Tristan shook his head.

Tristan: “He would have told me.”

He said as his voice trailed off.

Celeste: “Victor, I found these tools at Cherry Bomb’s or whatever to use on your feet! It’s a Wartenberg wheel with eight rows, feathers, and electric toothbrushes!”

She said excitedly. Victor chuckled.

Victor: “Wow, those are something else!”

Tristan groaned. Again? He thought. Victor put the shaped nuggets into the deep fryer.

When Victor took them out, he placed the nuggets on the paper towel to drain the grease and cool down. He poured the barbecue sauce into a sauce cup and some cajun mustard into another sauce cup.

Victor: “When Tristan was a little boy, he was such a picky eater. He would not eat most of the food that was made.”

He paused and saw Tristan tensing up.

Victor: “So I made him nuggets because we weren’t allowed to get take-out. He loved them. I made them for him in little cat shapes.”

He chuckled. Tristan relaxed and smiled a bit.

He put them on plates for Tristan and Celeste with the dipping sauces. Tristan shoved the Cajun mustard away.

Celeste: “That’s good, Tristan.”

He said nothing and began eating the nuggets. Victor smiled and felt warm inside. Tristan smiled as he held up a nugget that was shaped like a cat. Celeste dipped hers in the barbecue sauce and in the Cajun mustard.

Ivy came down and gawked at everyone.

Victor: “Hey, sweetheart! I made Celeste some nuggets and some for my son! Celeste is getting me a Wartenberg Wheel from the cherry store! I can’t wait for her to test that out!”

He said giddily. Tristan hung his head. Oh God, Papa, he thought. He buried his face into his hands and shook his head. Ivy felt her fury soar.

Ivy: “Why are you allowing her to do that to you when I asked you not to?! WHY ARE YOU MAKING HER NUGGETS!? And your son?! Tristan is an adult, Victor!”

She snapped. Victor’s bottom lip trembled.

Victor: “Oh, I didn’t realize I did anything wrong! I always do something wrong, whether it’s loving my son or doing something nice for his friends!”

He removed his glasses and wiped his eyes.

Ivy: “Victor, she made fun of me in her ‘art’ at the museum!”

She fired back. Victor bawled.

Victor: “I thought it was charming!”

Ivy rubbed her temples.

Ivy: “Victor, I want to have a rational conversation!”

Victor: “I am doing that! I am making dinner for my son and his friends!”

He flapped his arms and cried.

Tristan drew a long breath and suddenly didn’t feel hungry. He shoved his plate to Celeste and rose from the table, storming off upstairs. Ivy threw her arms up.

Ivy: “I am going to call a cab to the grocery store. She ate all my snacks! And we need food! And you say nothing to her!”

She snapped and stormed off to the mudroom. Celeste stared at her plate with a bleak expression. Victor sank to the floor, curled up, sobbing loudly. Oliver walked up to him and curled up beside him.

~

Fabien and Craig heard everything on the baby monitor. Craig threw his head back and cackled.

Craig: “Fuck, Celeste is a LEGEND.”

He clapped his hands. Fabien pursed his lips. Normally, he would laugh at this but now he’s not.

Fabien: “Why do you say that?”

He asked Craig.

Craig: “Cos she ate all of Ivy’s snacks!”

He laughed.

Fabien: “...I normally would laugh and Victor cries at the drop of a hat but… I wish my father was as caring and loving as Victor is to Tristan. He makes him food he likes and knows his interests. He doesn’t try to mold him into his likeness.”

He embraced himself. Craig wrapped his big arms around him.

Craig: “Fuck him! I love ya for who ya are! I can cook ya a nice steak!”

He assured him. Fabien patted his chest.

Fabien: “Leave the cooking to me…”

He smiled and kissed him.

Craig: “All right.”

He smiled back at him and kissed him back.

Someone knocked at the door. Fabien raised an eyebrow.

Fabien: “Who is coming here at this hour? Is it Celeste after that fight?”

He muttered and opened the door. His jaw dropped when he saw his parents, Basile and Francine, standing on his doorstep.

Fabien: “Mother! …Father… What brings you here? I heard you were coming. You never called.”

Basile entered the house.

Basile: “It’s an important case. I came to see how you’re doing. How life is treating you since you rode away on Blanche leaving your fiancée at the altar?!”

He said gruffly and dusted himself off, scowling at the house. Fabien looked away. Craig gaped at him.

Craig: “How come ya didn’t come see how he was doin’ when he left?”

Basile ignored him and fixed his cold glare on his son.

Fabien: “I never wanted to marry Clarisse… And Blanche died while you shoved me off to law school and I had to find out from our butler, Jean!”

He said as his voice rose.

Craig: “What?! You didn’t even tell him his horse died?! That’s cold!”

He gaped at them. Basile narrowed his eyes on Fabien.

Basile: “You were expelled from school, Fabien. You left Clarisse. You failed school and you took Dr. Bhagat’s slacker son under your wing! And now you have another failure to take care of!”

He fielded scathingly at Craig.

Craig: “Pfft, who needs school? I dropped out ‘n turned out fine!”

Fabien: “I didn’t want to go to law school! I never wanted to be a lawyer! I never wanted to be with that bitch, Clarisse! Gus and I became friends because his dad also had high expectations of him! Yeah, he would make a great doctor! All he does is sniff stinky feet!”

He huffed.

Craig: “Law school, more like bore school.”

Basile ignored Craig.

Fabien: “Why are you here? Are you here to see Tristan?”

He asked sharply.

Basile: “No. If you paid any attention to my past cases, you would know why.”

He replied, his tone as sharp as Fabien’s.

Fabien: “Well, I didn’t. You didn’t care about my life so I didn’t care about yours.”

He sneered at him.

Basile: “Then you will never know why I am here and why I am here to seek justice.”

He growled.

Craig: “You here to chase after some sheila or somethin’?”

He scoffed and laughed.

Basile: “I don’t remember speaking to you? Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to!”

He hissed at Craig. Craig pouted.

Fabien: “Whatever. Nice to see you, Father. I’m still the same ol’ failure. See yourself out.”

He said sharply.

Francine: “Fabien, did you know The Noble Monarch has amazing amenities? We should get a spa treatment sometime?”

She smiled at him. Fabien gave her a half-smile. Craig bowed his head and looked away, thinking of him running off there with Jaxon.

Fabien: “Sure, Mother. That’d be nice.”

Basile: “Don’t spoil him.”

He said firmly to her.

Basile and Francine went to the door where Basile kept his cold glare on Fabien until he left. Fabien locked the door and sighed. Justice, huh? Whatever, Father, he thought bitterly. Craig put his arms around Fabien and held him close. Fabien smiled and hugged him back. He needed this now.

Gus entered the house with Craig’s gym sneaker tied to his face with the opening over his mouth and nose. Fabien gawked at him in disbelief and burst out laughing.

Fabien: “What is that?!”

Gus: “My face mask.”

He shrugged out of his coat and dropped it on the floor. Fabien laughed and shook his head. Craig gaped at Gus, bewildered and annoyed.

Craig: “OI! IS THAT MY SHOE?!”

He rasped.

Fabien: “This I have to hear.”

Gus: “My dad told me my grandpa was in the hospital and I had to visit him. In his room, you have to wear a mask, so I made my own with Craig’s stinky sneaker.”

He drawled. Fabien cupped his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Craig: “YOU WHAT?!”

Fabien: “What did your grandfather think?”

Gus shrugged briefly.

Gus: “Said somethin’ about how I will never change and how I love stink. Then he said I would smell my own stinky socks when I took them off but I still do that.”

He mumbled and scratched his ass.

Gus: “What’s for dinner?”

Craig folded his arms across his chest.

Craig: “Pfft, it seems weirdo runs in your family.”

He huffed and yanked his shoe off him.

~

Fabien and Craig lay in his bed. Fabien wore his green plaid pajama bottoms and Craig was naked. Fabien had his head rested on Craig’s chest deep in thought. He looked up at him.

Fabien: “I noticed when my mother mentioned The Noble Monarch Hotel, you were upset. Why is that?”

He asked. He had his hunches but wanted Craig to tell him. Craig shifted his eyes and gave a little huff.

Craig: “I wasn’t upset.”

He pouted. Fabien drew a long, exhausted breath.

Fabien: “You want me not to go to Tristan but then you do this bullshit.”

He said sharply and turned over, his back facing Craig.

Craig: “What bullshit? I wasn’t upset! I just don’t like that place. It’s full of glitter cock rockstar cocks!”

He huffed bitterly.

Fabien: “You don’t want to be vulnerable with me or talk to me…”

He sighed dejectedly. Craig drew a long breath and sat up in bed. Fabien turned over to face him.

Craig: “All right. Ya want me to get vulnerable with ya?! It pissed me right off and hurt my feelin’s when you ran off with that rockstar dick ‘n that fruity hotel reminds me of that!”

He blurted. Fabien sighed and raked his fingers through his hair.

Fabien: “I’m sorry… I did that because you never indulge in any of my kinks and I have to beg you! Jaxon indulged in those… but we never had sex.”

He said earnestly. Craig gaped at him.

Fabien: “And I wanted to hurt you back for hurting me.”

He added and hugged his legs.

Craig: “What did I do to hurt ya?! Not tickle your feet enough?!”

He exclaimed.

Fabien: “Well, yeah! And you snap at me for wanting to talk to Tristan!”

He added in a sharp tone. Craig gaped at him.

Craig: “WHAT?! You ran off with some other bloke just ‘cause I didn’t tickle ya feet?! What’s this about Tristan?! I thought you hated that guy?!”

He threw his arms up.

Fabien: “Yes, I did, Craig! I don’t ask you for much! I do and do for you and when I ask you for something, it’s like pulling teeth!”

He cried.

Craig: “I give heart attacks ‘n shove cunts out windows for you!”

He cried.

Fabien: “I told you Andreas didn’t love you in your language! I don’t feel you love me in MINE!”

He slapped his chest.

Craig: “I’m sorry, I don’t speak French!”

He cried.

Fabien: “You dummy! I didn’t mean that! I mean there are things I’d like you to do for me and you don’t!”

He threw his arms up.

Craig: “Like what?!”

Fabien rubbed his temples.

Fabien: “Tickling my feet! Do I have to spell out everything for you?!”

He snapped.

Craig: “I DO tickle your feet! Do you want me to tickle ya all day long, until you pass out or somethin’?!”

He asked. Fabien looked away and sighed.

Fabien: “This is why I talked to Tristan. I wanted to speak to someone who isn’t an idiot. I have my issues with him but this issue I am dealing with now is serious and you don’t understand. You CAN’T understand.”

He huffed and turned over. Craig recoiled, looking hurt.

Craig: “I’m NOT an idiot?! What do you mean?! What’s so serious about tickling feet?! What don’t I understand ‘bout that?!”

He threw his arms up with frustration and hurt.

Fabien: “Everything… I have to dumb down everything for you. It’s like talking to a toddler.”

He said with hurt.

Craig’s bottom lip trembled.

Craig: “Why don’t you go be with fucking Tristan then?!”

He cried with hurt in his tone.

Fabien: “I am not in love with him, you fool.”

He huffed and kicked him. Craig keeled over and cried.

Craig: “The fuck was that for?! What’s gotten into you?!”

Fabien: “I just want friends…”

He muttered.

Craig: “You got friends! You got that stoner weirdo sniffin’ everyone’s feet!”

He stated.

Fabien: “No, Potato Head… I want a friend who I can vent to when you overwhelm me! I can’t vent to Gus and he doesn’t understand me!”

He blurted. Craig pouted.

Craig: “Potato head?! …Oh, so I’m ‘too much’ for you too, huh?!”

He said with hurt in his tone.

Fabien: “YES!”

He barked. Craig looked hurt and rose from the bed, baring his nude body. Fabien sat up and hugged his legs again.

Craig: “Sorry, I’m too much for ya!”

He huffed, bitterly, gesturing to his toned physique and cock. He grabbed his boxer shorts, throwing them on and headed out to the couch to sleep. Fabien sighed and threw the blankets on himself, turning over.

He looked at his cellphone on his nightstand. He reached over and stared at it for a moment. He sighed and dialed a number.

~

Tristan was in his bedroom laying on the couch, reading the book he was given at Foxy Robin’s. He was smoking and having a cup of chamomile tea. Francis was on his lap, sleeping. He wore his silver silk pajamas and his hair was loose. Deimos was asleep in his bed in his red plaid pajamas with Oliver sleeping in the crook of his legs. Tristan always envied how easily Deimos could fall asleep.

Tristan’s cell phone rang. His eyebrows rose. Who is calling at this hour? He wondered. He looked at the screen and saw Fabien was calling him. Ah, a Craig issue, he thought. He pressed the button to answer.

Tristan: “Hello?”

Fabien: “Hey, are you up?”

Tristan: “Yes, you know I have insomnia.”

He chuckled and closed his book.

Tristan: “Having issues with Craig?”

Fabien rubbed his eyes and sighed.

Fabien: “How did you know?”

He sighed again.

Fabien: “We fought again. My parents came over… I will get into that shortly. My mother mentioned me accompanying her to the spa at The Noble Monarch Hotel and Craig was upset by this. When we went to bed, I asked him about it. He started with his pouting crap and admitted he was hurt when I went with Jaxon.”

He sat up in bed.

Fabien: “We didn’t have sex. I just wanted to be tickled… and asking Craig to do that is like pulling teeth.”

He said with frustration in his tone.

Fabien: “I cook for him, I clean for him, I am the breadwinner. I don’t ask much. I know Craig is incapable of deep conversations so I went to you about my father. He got angry with me.”

He hung his head.

Fabien: “You saw I lost my temper today…”

Tristan: “I did. I don’t see the issue with what you’re asking for. Craig wants to run everything without contributing anything, not unlike Nuklear Intoxikation. He blames me for why the band crashed and burned but I am not the reason for this. The red flags were flapping in my face. I went to Andreas to dig deeper. I know Deimos is serious about music, and I don’t want to see him hurt. Craig can blame me all he likes but if that were true, neither Deimos nor Makayla would be making Sparaktikós… and I suggested the two make a band.”

He explained. Fabien nodded.

Fabien: “And I wear his goddamn shirts. I don’t disagree with what you’re saying, but why Andreas? All he does is use those children’s cards to predict the future.”

He huffed.

Tristan: “I wasn’t asking him for anything to predict the future but to tell me of Craig’s history. Whatever your opinion on tarot is, Andreas drew The Tower for Craig; it fits his current situation and possibly his future situation.”

He sipped his tea.

Tristan: “A band member of Nuklear quit long before I entered the picture. His name was Kurt. Craig never disclosed why and no one really knows. Andreas speculates he was tired of Craig’s foolishness and judging by his patterns, I’d dare say he’s not far off. Craig claims he’s serious about music but his behavior indicates otherwise. He seems serious about having sex, consuming mindless television shows, surfing, and wanting to rule the house but does nothing to contribute.”

Fabien: “I never complained about his income. I just want to be tickled and want him to help with house chores.”

He replied.

Tristan: “I don’t think you’re asking a lot and if Craig is making you feel these are tall orders, why are you with him? Craig is not going to grow a brain or change overnight. You took in Gus, whom you have nothing in common with and now Craig whom you’re dating. Why are you drawn to these charity cases?”

He challenged him. Fabien paused and cupped his mouth.

Fabien: “...I think because I’m not a loner as you and Deimos are. I never had friends growing up and no one wanted to be my friend. And these people want to be around me.”

He admitted.

Tristan: “And with Gus and Craig being so dimwitted, they can’t challenge you or outshine you.”

He scoffed. Fabien furrowed his eyebrows.

Fabien: “I came to you and you’re challenging me now!”

He snapped. Tristan put his hand up.

Tristan: “Don’t get defensive, Fabien.”

He sighed and drummed his fingers.

Tristan: “I understand you… I know your father’s presence is difficult and Craig is trying your patience but he’s not going to grow a brain or half a brain. You either accept him for all his stupidity or move on.”

He stared down at his book. Fabien pursed his lips.

Something popped into Tristan’s head.

Tristan: “Do you remember ‘Collège Vigne’?”

Fabien blew air through his parted lips.

Fabien: “I didn’t go there.”

Tristan: “Ah.”

He held up the book.

Tristan: “I did before I left Nouvelle Gaule.”

Fabien: “What does this have to do with what we’re discussing?”

He asked in an irritated tone.

Tristan: “Allow me to finish.”

He countered, his tone as sharp as his.

Tristan: “...I had a classmate in the same grade as me. She was a year older. I think she was held back. She would always want to talk to me to have someone on her level of intelligence because she wasn’t getting this from her boyfriend. She would rave about the ballets she did and plays that her boyfriend didn’t understand. I asked her the same question.”

He explained and looked up at the ceiling.

Fabien: “What did she say?”

Tristan: “It was years ago. I believe she said I was not like other boys.”

Fabien snorted.

Fabien: “She crushed on you.”

Tristan gazed down at the book.

Tristan: “I wasn’t ready for that commitment at that time. I didn’t date anyone until I met Deimos, which was recently. Anyway, I left the country when I graduated collège or middle school as the Americans call it.”

He said as his voice trailed off and he couldn’t stop staring at that book or thinking of the waitress who gave him the book at the nightclub.

Tristan: “Fabien, do you know who owns Foxy Robin’s?”

He blurted the question.

Fabien: “No, I guess someone named Robin.”

He laughed a bit.

Tristan recalled his years in middle school of talking to Robin about Giselle, Julius Caesar, ballet, plays, and she would always catch him in the library reading. A waitress in a nightclub approaches him telling him the owner gave him a book. He remembered attending her ballets and her plays.

Fabien: “Tristan, are you okay?”

Tristan cleared his throat.

Tristan: “Sorry, Fabien, I’m fine.”

He forced a smile.

Fabien: “No, you’re not.”

Tristan sighed.

Tristan: “I apologize, Fabien. I need to do my research before I discuss anything. It’s nothing to do with you, I promise.”

Fabien: “...I see. Well, thanks for listening to me and giving me advice. I… I enjoyed our discussion.”

He finally admitted. Tristan smiled a bit.

Tristan: “Likewise. I am sure you have a lot to think about so get some rest and take care, okay?”

Fabien nodded.

Fabien: “Sure, thank you. Good night, Tristan.”

Tristan: “Good night.”

He pressed the end button and knit his eyebrows. What are you doing, Robin? He thought.