Chapter 148
Wit’s End
A thin biracial man who stood at five feet and five inches tall strolled in carrying a large item covered with black material. Purple, curly hair clumsily hung over a bright, cheerful diamond-shaped face. Freckles are spread seductively over his nose and cheekbones. Darting pink eyes, set high within their sockets, watched enthusiastically as Percy strolled down his living room with his robe open exposing his bare naked body. He wore a black turtleneck, black skinny jeans, and black Chelsea boots.
He was Ladarrel Dixon, Percy’s photographer. Ladarrel wrung his hands as he spread his smile to show a slight gap in his teeth.
Ladarrel: “Percy, you are going to love this, hon!”
He spread his hands out while Percy clasped his hands as his ruby eyes glittered.
Percy: “Well, don’t keep us waiting, my magical friend!”
He said breathlessly. Ladarrel lifted the material to reveal a large portrait photograph of Tristan sleeping on his side, his mouth open wide and drooling on his pillow with Oliver sleeping on his back, his head on Tristan’s arm, and his legs spread. Percy’s smile spread widely as he marveled at the piece.
Ladarrel held up his forefinger and wagged it.
Ladarrel: “That is not all, lovey! Oh no! I have another!”
He sang.
Percy: “Oh, darling, you spoil me!”
Percy waved his hand, feigning bashfulness. Ladarrel went to the back and got two more pieces covered in black material. Percy squealed and put his hands over his nose. Ladarrel removed one cloth revealing a large portrait of Tristan caught in the middle of eating a grilled chicken sub. Percy gasped with delight.
Ladarrel: “I am glad it meets with your approval, but wait…”
He pulled off another black cloth revealing a picture of Tristan lying on the back patio in nothing but his underwear playing a handheld video game. He had black circles under his eyes, a cigarette in his mouth, and Oliver splayed out sleeping on his chest.
Percy smiled and shed a tear of joy. He placed his hands over his chest.
Percy: “Mon ami, these are true masterpieces. You know how to capture the true beauty of my little ice prince.”
He sighed blissfully.
~
Anthony was on the couch with Craig watching football, and Dingo was lying beside Craig. The phone rang. Anthony rose from the couch to pick it up.
Anthony: “Hello?”
Percy sat in his living room, curling the phone cord around his fingers.
Percy: “Is this Anthony or ‘Tony the Tank Top Tickler’?”
He purred.
Anthony raised his eyebrows.
Anthony: “Yeah, that’s me. What can I do for you?”
Percy inhaled a drag from his cigarette and stroked his cat, Smokey.
Percy: “I have a special request. It’s not for one of your models, no, but for your lawyer, Tristan Trémaux.”
He said in a slithery tone. Anthony paused.
Anthony: “Tristan is not a model or on contract. I can’t have him model or star in videos.”
Percy: “You needn’t do that, darling. I don’t want this for the public but for my… personal collection… I will pay you more. Your price is mine…”
He wiggled his fingers. Anthony was silent.
Anthony: “...What did you want?”
Percy: “I’d love to see Tristan’s penis. I bet it’s so wonderfully sculpted and knowing it never entered anyone adds to the fun.”
He licked his lips. Anthony shifted in his seat.
Anthony: “Look, dude, Tristan is not comfortable posing nude. I know him. I can probably pull a few strings for some feet pics or tickling but I am not going to take any amount of money to overstep his boundaries.”
He said firmly.
Percy: “Humph, killjoy. Okay, see what you can do. Ta-ta.”
He hung up the phone.
Anthony heard the click and the hum of a dial tone. He… wanted this request and didn’t leave a name or a number, he thought. He went to sit with Craig on the couch.
Craig: “What was THAT all about?!”
He asked gruffly.
Anthony: “Some weirdo wanted to pay me a lot to have Tristan nude and went on about how it’s great he’s a virgin. I said I wouldn’t do that because I knew Tristan wouldn’t do that. He might budge for just feet and tickling but nothing nude or sexual.”
Craig: “WHAT?! Who said it?! WHO?!”
He rasped, shooting up from the couch, and cracking his knuckles.
Anthony: “I don’t know, Craig. He never left a name or a number to get back to him.”
Craig: “COWARD! He knew I’d kick his ass!”
He rasped. Anthony shrugged.
Anthony: “It doesn’t matter. Tristan will not pose nude or do anything sexual. He might pose his feet but this guy never left a name or number so he can’t pay me.”
He stared blankly. Why did he do this if he had no intention of paying me? Was it because I denied his request for Tristan to pose nude, or was he sending a message? He wondered.
Craig: “Pfft, he’d be doin’ no such thing!”
He pouted and flopped on the couch.
Anthony turned to Craig.
Anthony: “Doing what?”
Craig: “Modellin’ for a bunch of perves!”
He exclaimed. Anthony sighed.
Anthony: “Can’t control what Tristan does, Craig…”
He said as his voice trailed off.
Craig: “I know…”
He said reluctantly. Anthony patted his back and turned off the TV.
He rose to turn on the radio.
Anthony: “Let’s listen to some radio! Maybe someone left a review review of Nuklear!”
He smiled and tuned into Headbanger’s Hellfire.
Veronika: “HEEEEEEEY, EVERYONE! It’s your girl, Veronika, hostin’ the most metal, BADASS radio show in Pink Top City! I’m here with my co-host, Bobby!”
Bobby: “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWW!! MEEEEEEEEEEETAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!! HORNS UP, CUNTS!”
Veronika: “Before we play only the most badass metal, we have a treat for you tonight! A shrimp just gave me tickets to see this loser movie, GNOMEZ! He wanted to come with me but Bobby is coming instead. Stay away from me until you need to worship your muscle vixen!”
Bobby: “WHEEEEEEEEEEWW! WHAT A FUCKIN’ LOSER, RONNIE! This movie blows! Let’s flush it!”
A flushing sound played.
Veronika: “I have a better idea! When something really stupid comes up, let’s play this loser song Craig played for this lame teddy bear for that pansy lawyer!”
She pressed the bear’s belly and it played, “Tristan! I’m so Sorrrrryyyyyyy! I’m so SORRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY! I’m sorry I broke your grandfather’s clock! SORRRYYYYY! I’m so SORRRRRYYYYYY! I’m sorry I was a dick! SORRRYYYYYYY! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME FOR ANOTHER MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”
Bobby: “Oi, what a fuckin’ drongo, Ronnie! Don’t he know Ice Cream left him for another man, Licorice? Ice cream and licorice! What a treat! SUCK IT DOWN, CRAIG!”
A flushing sound played.
Veronika: “Maybe they should have asked Craig to star in GNOMEZ instead of Ivy’s loser brother, Moss! Did you know his mom bought tickets for everyone so the show would be sold out?!”
She laughed.
Bobby: “And that goth girl wipes his ass! What a fuckin’ turd! I’m gonna flush it!”
A flushing sound played.
Anthony turned off the radio as Craig was visibly upset. Craig screamed with anger, punching the wall.
Craig: “THOSE FUCKIN’ CUUUUUUUUUNTS!”
He roared. Dingo yelped and ran away, crawling under Craig’s bed. Anthony knit his eyebrows. Craig stopped when he saw Dingo cowering under his bed, and his harsh features softened.
Craig: “O-Oh shit! Dingo! I-I’m sorry, boy!”
He cried, rushing over to Dingo and petting him under the bed. Dingo slowly licked his hands and crawled out from under the bed, and Craig pulled him into a hug.
Craig: “...I didn’t mean to scare ya ‘n I wasn’t mad at ya!”
He said softly to him as Dingo licked him. Craig felt bad for scaring him with his temper and it made him wonder if that’s how Tristan saw him, as well.
~
When morning came, Anthony had brought Fred’s Burger Castle for breakfast, which was pancakes, sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, and coffee. Anthony was wearing a Bart Simpson tank top, cut-offs, and flip-flops. Craig got out of bed and strolled to the table wearing nothing but his underwear. He flopped on the chair at the table. Dingo came running into the house, excited. Anthony looked out his window and saw Tristan’s Toyota MR2 Convertible pull into the driveway and park next to Anthony’s car.
Tristan got out of his car. He was dressed in a white pressed shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black waistcoat with gray lapels, trims, and pockets, a black and gray striped tie, black dress pants, and black Oxford shoes. He had his clip-on shades over his glasses and his attaché case and sports jacket in his hand. He knocked on Anthony’s door and Dingo was jumping up with joy. Anthony smiled and opened the door. Dingo barked with excitement, jumping up on his back legs, and getting his dirty paws on Tristan’s pants. Tristan stepped back and grimaced at the dirt on his pants. He brushed the dirt off himself.
Anthony: “Sorry about that, Tristan.”
Tristan forced a smile.
Tristan: “Think nothing of it.”
He muttered. Craig came rushing up to Tristan with excitement and energy to match Dingo’s.
Craig: “Tristan?!”
He beamed excitedly. Tristan removed his clip-on shades and stuffed them into his pocket. He turned to Anthony.
Tristan: “I apologize for my tardiness. I just got out of court representing a client.”
He said evenly. Anthony waved his hand dismissively.
Anthony: “No worries, man! Want some breakfast?”
Tristan eyed the breakfast indignantly. God, this trash? He thought.
Tristan: “No, thank you, sir.”
Craig: “Hey Tristan! Did ya wanna hear my new bass riff?”
He exclaimed, desperately trying to get his attention on him.
Tristan: “No.”
He said tersely and turned to Anthony. Craig pouted and lowered his head.
Tristan: “So you wanted to meet with me to discuss the logo Ivy is designing for you.”
He began. Anthony nodded and clasped his hands. Craig’s ire soared.
Anthony: “Yeah, we agreed on a logo and I paid her extra for the business work and you would register this as a trademark for me.”
Tristan: “That’s correct, sir.”
Craig: “HEY! You guys wanna see me catch some waves out there?”
He interjected, pointing out the window and grabbing his surfboard.
Anthony: “You gonna surf in your underwear?”
He laughed.
Craig: “I sure am!”
He winked at Tristan. Tristan flicked his tongue over his lips trying not to lose his patience.
Anthony: “Why don’t you finish your breakfast while Tristan and I discuss business matters?”
He suggested.
Craig: “All right, fine!”
He huffed and plonked himself back down at the table. Dingo looked up at Craig and whimpered. Anthony handed Craig the Pink Top Star newspaper.
Anthony: “Here, you can read the newspaper! Might find something interesting.”
He smiled tightly. Tristan looked at the scene and twisted his mouth. Craig shifted his eyes when he asked him to read something.
Craig: “Oh… Nah, I’m all good.”
He gave an awkward thumbs-up and tapped his feet and fingers on the surfaces.
Anthony led Tristan onto the couch. Tristan glanced at Craig and looked up at Anthony. Craig shuffled his feet to listen to their conversation.
Tristan: “He can’t read, Anthony.”
He said in a low voice.
Anthony: “No?”
Tristan: “No. He lived with me and every time there was something I wanted him to read, he would ask me to read it.”
He reiterated in a low voice. He drew another breath.
Tristan: “I don’t think he needs glasses but this is either illiteracy or dyslexia. I am leaning more toward dyslexia because of how he spells words out. This is how his band name, ‘Nuklear Intoxikation’ came to play.”
Craig burst in on their conversation, seething.
Craig: “OI! Why you tellin’ him that?! Did that stinky-foot skank tell ya, huh?!”
He snapped. Tristan’s eyelids dipped and he heaved a deep sigh.
Tristan: “Eavesdropping, were we?”
He said as his voice rose.
Tristan: “No, Craig. No one told me. I figured it out on my own.”
Craig: “Oh...”
He said quietly.
Craig: “Well, don’t you dare tell anyone!”
He added.
Tristan: “Craig, come on, they figured it out and Anthony would have eventually.”
He said sharply.
Tristan: “When I told Deimos, he said he knew it. Ivy knows it, as well.”
He added and heaved a deep sigh.
Craig: “WHAT?! They know this, too?!”
He bared his teeth. Tristan nodded.
Tristan: “Yes.”
Craig: “I bet that stinky-foot bitch told them, too!”
He huffed. Tristan rolled his eyes.
Tristan: “No, Craig, she did not. They figured it out, as well. Aside from Jaclyn wanting to sue Ivy for these alleged reviews and artwork mocking her, she doesn’t converse with us.”
He said firmly.
Tristan: “I am not stupid; I read between the lines.”
Craig paced around the room and pouted.
Anthony: “No one is judging you, buddy. I am glad Tristan told me. He did get to know you.”
He smiled. Tristan rolled his eyes.
Tristan: “I did and you never got to know me, Craig.”
He hissed.
Craig: “I wanted to…”
He whined.
Tristan waved his hand at Craig, shooing him out.
Tristan: “Anyway, Anthony and I have a business to discuss.”
He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose when Anthony handed him the logo Ivy designed for him. It was a drawing of Anthony holding both of his hands up with feathers and grinning with “Tony the Tank Top Tickler” on his tank top. He was in a circle with a pink-dusky sky in the background. Tristan chuckled at the design.
Tristan: “Wow, she did a great job!”
Craig’s big hand swooped in, grabbing the drawing from them.
Craig: “Pfft, that’s lame!”
He said bitterly. Tristan’s patience was wearing thin and this broke him.
Tristan: “You are SO rude!”
He snapped and snatched the drawing from his hands.
Tristan: “I didn’t ask for your input! I am going to register a copyright for this! Also, this is a logo done for someone who is allowing you to stay in his home! Show some decency and stop acting like a caveman!”
He barked. Craig recoiled when he addressed him like that.
Craig: “Why do you do so much for that boring, whiny chick when she’s datin’ Deimos?!”
He flared hotly.
Tristan: “Because she has feelings for me and is also dating me! Call her ‘boring’ and ‘whiny’ but she has always captured my interest and she actually got to know me, which is something you never did!”
He countered.
Craig: “But why? She doesn’t even talk ‘n when she does she just cries?!”
He fired back.
Tristan: “She talks to me!”
He snapped.
Craig: “Well la-dee-da!”
He poked his tongue out.
Tristan: “Grow up, Craig.”
He hissed.
Craig: “I can’t believe you chose the most boring assholes on Reona over me!”
He grumbled and folded his arms across his chest. Tristan bared his teeth, feeling his fury cultivate.
Tristan: “I KNOW, RIGHT?! I can’t believe I didn’t pick a muscle-bound moron who didn’t get to know me and only loves me for my appearance! An idiot who I was going to support financially because he’s too lazy to get a job! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!”
He screamed in his face and slapped his chest.
Craig: “OI, I’m not an idiot ‘n I ain’t lazy!”
He fired back at him. Tristan nodded.
Tristan: “Oh, right, you just stayed at my house, leaving your stinky socks and garbage around for me to clean up while you sponged off me, but sure, you’re neither an idiot nor lazy!”
He hollered.
Craig: “That’s right, I’m NOT an idiot or lazy!”
He retorted. Tristan rolled his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair.
Tristan: “You’re a simpleminded fool. If you think you have a chance with me, you are an idiot.”
He spat. Craig looked hurt.
Craig: “...That ain’t you, that’s Deimos speakin’.”
He pursed his lips. Tristan didn’t deny that but Craig had pushed him to his limits.
Tristan: “I am fed up with you, Craig. You can call it what you want. Do not insult those near and dear to me. If you knew me, you’d know that because I stood up for you when Veronika and Jaclyn attacked you.”
He said evenly.
Tristan: “...You don’t know me. That hurt me more than anything.”
He said with hurt in his tone and heaved a deep sigh.
Tristan: “Anyway, I am done expecting you to be a good person when you’re not. When I stopped expecting you to be good, I wasn’t disappointed when you’re just a terrible human being.”
He said flatly.
Craig: “...Fine then! I’m sooooorry I can’t be perfect!”
He huffed. Tristan clenched his fists and slapped Craig hard across his face.
Tristan: “No wonder Andreas left you!”
He barked. Craig rubbed his cheek where he slapped him, looking hurt.
He angrily gathered his papers.
Tristan: “I can’t be with this THING a moment longer, Anthony, I do apologize. Next time, you will have to come to my office or fax, call or email me. I don’t want to see this CAVEMAN ever again!”
He hissed through clenched teeth while glaring at Craig with hatred. Craig bowed his head like a scolded dog and Dingo huddled up to him to comfort him. Anthony heaved a deep sigh.
Anthony: “I am sorry.”
Tristan: “Je t’emmerde, Craig.” (fuck you, Craig)
He spat as he stormed past him and went outside. Craig looked bewildered.
Craig: “Oh, good day to you too, Tristan!”
He smiled a bit, waving him off. Tristan flipped him off as he went to his car. Craig felt a pang of hurt in his chest.
Anthony: “Craig, he said ‘fuck you’.”
He sighed and shook his head.
Craig: “Oh…”
He said glumly, feeling more hurt.
Craig: “Well, who doesn’t wanna fuck me, right?”
He forced a smile, trying to play it off.
Tristan put his clip-on shades over his glasses and Anthony rushed up to his car.
Anthony: “I’m so sorry about that, Tristan.”
Tristan shot him a glare.
Tristan: “Anthony, I know you are trying to do a nice thing for him but Craig cannot be helped and whatever we had is dead and gone. I hope you believe that now.”
He said firmly, knowing his intentions. Anthony hung his head and he didn’t deny any of it. Tristan got into his car. Anthony raised his eyebrows and snapped his fingers.
Anthony: “Oh, before you go, some guy called last night requesting to see nudes of you or a video of your feet tickled!”
Tristan paused as he slid the key into the ignition.
Tristan: “...Who was he?”
Anthony: “I wondered if you knew. He didn’t leave a name or number.”
Tristan: “Do you remember anything about his voice? Any accents or verbal tics?”
He inquired.
Anthony: “He spoke flamboyantly and with a German accent.”
He scratched his head. Tristan froze and heaved a deep sigh. Percy, he thought. He turned the engine on.
Anthony: “Know him?”
Tristan shook his head.
Tristan: “No. I’ll be in touch.”
He shifted gears and looked behind his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. Anthony waved and he wasn’t entirely sure he believed Tristan.
As he went into his cabin, Karam shut off the tape recorder with a big smirk on his face.
~
When evening came, Anthony got burgers from Jacob’s Chicken Shack. He got two spicy chicken burgers with extra pickles and fries for Craig and a four-piece box meal for himself.
Anthony: “How do you feel?”
He asked Craig. He turned on the radio to listen to some thrash metal, hoping that would cheer Craig up.
Craig: “I dunno…”
He mumbled. He looked at the pickles on his burger and recalled giving his pickles to Tristan because he asked.
Anthony: “Craig, I brought Tristan to my place for you to make amends and apologize for how you treated him.”
He said firmly, locking his gaze on him.
Craig: “What?! Why didn’t ya tell me what you were tryna’ do?!”
Anthony: “Because you wouldn’t have done it. Deimos and Ivy are good people and Ivy designed my logo. I love it. I did you a favor and you were very rude to Tristan.”
He chided him. Craig shrank in his seat like a scolded dog. Anthony drew a long breath, and his features softened.
Craig: “I didn’t mean to be rude…”
Anthony: “Craig, whatever you had with Tristan is history now. He’s not going to agree to a relationship, and you have to let that go. He made his decision firm; he’s not going to budge. I did this hoping you would soften the blow and there would be no bad blood but your emotions clouded your judgment, and Tristan refuses to come back here.”
He said in a harsh tone.
Anthony: “You destroyed his property and leeched off him. I don’t blame him for being angry. What’s worse is you didn’t try to make it right.”
He continued to chastise him. Craig scowled and looked away trying not to cry.
Craig: “I did… I asked him if he wanted to see me surf! Why is everyone pickin’ on me?”
He muttered. Anthony heaved a deep sigh.
When the thrash metal ended, Veronika kicked in.
Veronika: “HEEEEEEEY, EVERYONE! It’s your girl, Veronika, hostin’ the most metal, BADASS radio show in Pink Top City! I’m here with my co-host, Bobby!”
Bobby: “WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWW!! MEEEEEEEEEEETAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!! HORNS UP, CUNTS!”
Veronika: “Before we play only the most badass metal, we have a treat for you! A shrimp just gave me some intel on Craig. So the pansy lawyer came to Anthony for a logo Ivy designed for him and Craig got pissy because Tristan is with her and not his loser ass!”
Bobby: “OI, WHAT A FUCKIN’ DRONGO, RONNIE! Ice cream picked mulch-chucker over him because he’s a loser! Let’s flush him!”
A flushing sound played.
Veronika: “No, let’s play this loser song!”
She pressed the bear’s belly and it played, “Tristan! I’m so Sorrrrryyyyyyy! I’m so SORRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY! I’m sorry I broke your grandfather’s clock! SORRRYYYYY! I’m so SORRRRRYYYYYY! I’m sorry I was a dick! SORRRYYYYYYY! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME FOR ANOTHER MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”
Veronika: “Seriously, Craig? You think Tristan wants to support your broke ass and clean up after you?! At least Ivy’s loser brother landed a role in a shitty movie we’re about to bomb!”
A bomb explosion sound effect went off.
Bobby: “What a fuckin’ loser, Ronnie! Craig is like that Sex Bees guy! Let’s flush him!”
A flushing sound effect.
Veronika: “Yeah, doesn’t that shrimp want some ‘Filly-Babe’? And Nuklear Intoxikation isn’t metal anymore! It’s glam ‘metal’ bullshit! Get real, Craig!”
Bobby: “OI, WHAT A LOSER, RONNIE! Get flushed, Craig!”
A flushing sound effect played.
Veronika: “Let’s play this segment!”
Craig: “I can’t believe you chose the most boring assholes on Reona over me!”
Tristan: “I KNOW, RIGHT?! I can’t believe I didn’t pick a muscle-bound moron who didn’t get to know me and only loves me for my appearance! An idiot who I was going to support financially because he’s too lazy to get a job! WHAT WAS I THINKING?!”
Craig: “OI, I’m not an idiot ‘n I ain’t lazy!”
Tristan: “Oh, right, you just stayed at my house, leaving your stinky socks and garbage around for me to clean up while you sponged off me, but sure, you’re neither an idiot nor lazy!”
Bobby: “OOOOOOOOOOOO!!! BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURN!! SUCK IT DOWN, CRAIG!”
Veronika: “The tapes don’t lie, Craig! Just remember—you left me for him and seeing this your karma, so SUCK IT UP, LOSER!”
She pressed the bear’s belly and it played, “Tristan! I’m so Sorrrrryyyyyyy! I’m so SORRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY! I’m sorry I broke your grandfather’s clock! SORRRYYYYY! I’m so SORRRRRYYYYYY! I’m sorry I was a dick! SORRRYYYYYYY! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME FOR ANOTHER MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!”
Anthony shut the radio off. Craig barred his teeth and seethed.
Craig: “THOSE FUCKING CUNTS! I’M GONNA GO KICK THEIR ASSES!”
He rasped, grabbing his keys and storming out, slamming the door behind him. Anthony drew another breath as Dingo looked sad and whimpered.
~
Deimos was listening to the radio segment in his backyard patio. Ivy was in the studio working on another commission for a client. Deimos cupped his mouth while Blake was unraveling the hose.
Deimos: “I don’t know why I listen to this. The more flushing sound effects he makes, the funnier it gets, I guess. And no shit, Sherlock. We know Craig is an idiot who needs to get the fuck over Tristan.”
He said dryly and shut off the radio. He stared at Blake.
Deimos: “Can we talk?”
He asked him. Blake heaved a deep sigh.
Blake: “I don’t know what that old man meant, Deimos.”
He said tersely.
Deimos: “We’ll circle back to that later. That’s not what is on my mind—for now.”
Blake drew a breath. As long as he doesn’t press me, I am okay, he thought. He sat down with him.
Deimos: “I don’t know how I feel about this.”
Blake knit his eyebrows. He’s going to question me as everyone else did when we didn’t know their customs, he thought.
Deimos: “When I took that drink from your cult or commune or whatever, I said things to Tristan that maybe I didn’t mean but… I wonder if I said this because I always suspected Ivy was pulling away from me.”
He sighed sadly.
Deimos: “I figured she is more drawn to Tristan because he understands her feelings and it doesn’t bother him when she cries. He understands her and this is where I fall short.”
He knit his eyebrows.
Deimos: “Tristan got her to do the murals for his nephews and niece, got her jobs for clients, and he doesn’t lose his temper as I do.”
He continued. He withdrew a cigarette and lit it up.
Deimos: “I know you heard him lose his temper at Craig on that radio segment but it’s Craig and he’s a dipshit.”
He blew out smoke as his frustration soared. Blake looked away, feeling his fury soar at the mention of Craig.
Deimos: “Like Ivy wants us to be a trio but how does that even work? Brad mentioned it being the norm from his cult but this is not Sunshire.”
He fielded sharply.
Deimos: “I sometimes feel Ivy is doing this because she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings and she is more compatible with Tristan.”
He hung his head.
Blake: “I wouldn’t know, Deimos. I never had a relationship… They don’t interest me. I don’t feel anything for anyone. I don’t think I am gay or bi but I am not straight either. I am neither of those.”
Deimos nodded.
Blake: “This is why I was always an outcast in Sunshire… It was always this way before we were forced to leave.”
Deimos: “Forced to leave? Where? Sunshire? What cult forces you to leave?”
He cross-examined.
Blake: “I meant our house in Golden Shore. It was on fire.”
He said quickly and looked away. Deimos eyed him skeptically. He’s fucking lying to me, he thought. Something isn’t adding up and I don’t believe that old man was bluffing, he scrutinized Blake as he was in deep thought. I’ll get back to this later, this is more important, he thought.
Deimos: “Anyway, do you get this impression or am I going crazy? I was always against the idea of a trio because Makayla kept forcing it on my brother and Brad.”
He said coolly.
Blake: “You said Makayla forced it on your brother and Brad. Is this forced?”
Deimos paused and slowly shook his head.
Deimos: “No, but I don’t know how I feel about this. Makayla forces shit on others, not unlike Craig, I get that!”
He said tersely and waved his hand.
Blake: “You have to confront Ivy and Tristan about this and do what you feel is morally right. If you don’t feel this is right and it goes against your principles, don’t do it.”
He said firmly.
Karam was behind the fence recording everything and shut the recorder off. He smirked and ran away to deliver this to Veronika.
Blake: “Now it’s my turn to question you.”
Deimos raised his head to meet Blake.
Blake: “How many of you have these special abilities?”
Deimos paused and was perplexed.
Deimos: “What?”
Blake: “Deimos, I know you can heal others and Tristan can use ice, so tell me. Do all of you have this?”
He locked his gaze on Deimos, making him uncomfortable.
Deimos: “I don’t know… I enrolled in a camp, they injected me with serum, and I came out with the ability to heal others with my mind.”
He hugged his legs.
Deimos: “Same with Tristan… Ivy, Celeste…”
His voice trailed off.
Deimos: “That Percy clown.”
He said bitterly.
Deimos: “Arnold—who’s dead now, that Trevor guy, Spyder, Jaclyn, and Lazaros.”
Blake appeared pensive and looked worried.
Deimos: “Maxx seems to have Xupran abilities and DNA but I don’t know how he got those and Charlotte appears to have them, but in the thesis I read, Xuprans cannot fly…”
He cupped his chin.
Deimos: “So I wonder if specific Xuprans can or if this is limited to female Xuprans only. I know in ant colonies, it’s the queen ants that have wings.”
He mumbled and examined Blake.
Blake wasn’t paying attention and had his gaze fixed on Lazaros’ house.
Deimos: “Why do you want to know this information?”
He pressed.
Blake: “Why did you get injected?”
He blurted.
Deimos: “I was lost and lonely. This camp promised to take the pain away and I guess it did.”
He said, thinking about how he could heal wounds.
Blake: “Why is this being done?”
Deimos shrugged.
Deimos: “Human experimenting. I thought about this myself and this was done for many years. I don’t know the company’s purpose.”
He admitted.
Deimos: “I have theories as to why… I wondered if we were given these abilities to defend against another invasion like the Earth invasion of 1792.”
He began and Blake’s anxiety began to soar.
Deimos: “...But after that invasion, I don’t think other planets are going to come after us. We destroyed the Earthlings and kept some of their customs.”
Deimos chucked. Blake rose quickly.
Blake: “I should go.”
Deimos locked his gaze on Blake.
Deimos: “Blake, I will find out… eventually. Some people are already suspicious.”
Is this another ability of theirs? Blake wondered.
~
Ivy was working on a commission in the studio. Antonis came in with an envelope.
Antonis: “Ivy, someone left this on the doorstep for you.”
He handed her the manilla envelope with her name written on it. She thanked him and took it. He left the room. She opened the envelope and saw there was a cassette inside. She quirked an eyebrow. What is this? She wondered.
She rose to Deimos’ boombox, pressed eject, slid the cassette into the tray, and pushed it in to press play. She listened to it and it was the conversation Deimos had with Blake where he states Ivy wants to be with Tristan and is doing this to spare his feelings.
Ivy: “...WHAT?”
She cupped her mouth, feeling hurt he would think that.
Ivy: “Why did he go to Blake about this instead of me and Tristan?”
She rose from her seat to confront Deimos on this.
She went out to the backyard patio where Deimos sat reading a book.
Ivy: “Hey, Deimos can we talk?”
She pressed him, anxiously tapping her heel. Deimos closed his book.
Deimos: “Sure, what is it?”
Ivy: “So, someone, I don’t know who—recorded a conversation you had with Blake about me and Tristan and it got back to me…”
She sighed, huddling into herself. Deimos paused and thought about the conversation Tristan had with Craig and how it was blasted on that stupid radio show. But Veronika and Bobby are live and I had that conversation with Blake a few minutes ago, he thought.
Deimos: “...Yeah, I said that.”
He confessed.
Ivy: “Why didn’t you come to me about this?”
She asked. Deimos heaved a deep sigh and pondered about it.
Deimos: “...I don’t know.”
He mumbled.
Deimos: “But I do feel it and I felt Blake would understand given he’s also logically driven.”
He added.
Ivy: “I’m your partner, though! Of course, I’d understand you! No offense to Blake, but he’s never been in a relationship before and he’s just a friend…”
She drew a breath. Deimos thought on it and Blake never really offered me good advice but I did get more clues about what that old man said to Brad, he thought. Ivy read his thoughts with intrigue, but this matter between them was more important and pressing to her.
Deimos: “Anyway…, do you want to be with Tristan? He understands feelings and wears his heart on his sleeve, unlike me.”
He sighed.
Ivy: “What are you trying to say, Deimos?! Are you trying to say you don’t want to be together anymore?”
She pursed her lips.
Deimos: “I am asking you that. Are you doing all this to spare my feelings because you’d rather be with Tristan?”
He asked sharply.
Ivy: “No? I want to be with you, Deimos. But I also want to be with Tristan, too…”
She stated. Deimos put his book on the table.
Deimos: “This is what I don’t understand. You said when Makayla was trying to force this on Lazaros and Brad that you wouldn’t engage in this poly thing and now you want it.”
He said firmly.
Ivy: “I know what I said… You also expressed your feelings for Tristan, too, you know…”
She said softly.
Deimos: “When I was on a drug given to me by Blake, and it’s likely a drug from another planet, so how do I know what I said was sincere?!”
He snapped.
Ivy: “I hate to give a surface-level response, but… it’s a vibe I get, and I know you and you’re rarely ever insincere.”
She said gently.
Deimos’ face crumpled.
Deimos: “I was on a drug and very likely not even a drug from this planet or star system. How am I to know what I said was sincere? Am I more like Lazaros than I think? He only pretended to fall for that fat loser to get even with Makayla!”
He fielded scathingly.
Ivy: “Deimos, you’re like the epitome of sincerity, you’re brutally honest to a fault. I can’t think of a time when you’ve been dishonest and fake…”
Deimos heaved a deep sigh.
Ivy: “...What do you mean? Did you only pretend to fall for Tristan to get even with me?”
She looked hurt. Deimos rolled his eyes.
Deimos: “I don’t pretend to fall for people. That’s a waste of time and shit Lazaros does.”
He growled.
Ivy: “So… you didn’t pretend to fall for Tristan then?”
She challenged.
Deimos: “Wouldn’t I have had to have done this for months as Lazaros did to that beached whale?! I don’t do that shit! I said stuff under the influence of space drugs!”
He folded his arms and scowled. Ivy was growing frustrated and felt like she was getting nowhere. She hated it when Deimos did this.
Ivy: “Okay, Deimos, if you say so.”
She drew a long breath, not wanting to argue anymore.
Deimos: “So what are you going to do?”
He drummed his fingers on the table.
Ivy: “I don’t know…”
Deimos slapped his hand on the table. Ivy jolted and recoiled.
Deimos: “If I didn’t take those drugs, I would know what I said was sincere. Sorry, I can’t be like Tristan. I don’t blame you one iota.”
He huffed.
Ivy: “I’m not expecting you to be like Tristan! I love you for who you are, Deimos! There are different aspects about you that I love and need, and there are different aspects of Tristan I love and need…”
Deimos stared at his lap.
Deimos: “Like what? Help me understand this. How is this not like that joke Makayla wants with my brother and that fat thing?”
He challenged.
Ivy: “You challenge me and give me tough love that Tristan doesn’t. You ground me back down to reality again when I’m too caught up in my head, and sometimes I need this. We’re both artists; you’re a musician and I’m a designer, and we both have similar tastes and dark humor. You’re also a solutions man. You always know how to solve things.”
Deimos nodded, appreciating that.
Deimos: “And Tristan?”
Ivy: “Tristan gives me emotional support and he understands the emotional sides of things. He gives me solutions in that department and teaches me how to handle my emotions better so I don’t drive you up a tree, haha.”
Deimos wagged his head and didn’t disagree.
Deimos: “He’s also a writer and creative.”
Ivy nodded in agreement.
Ivy: “Yes, and so are you! You both should write more!”
She smiled. Deimos’ features softened and he smiled a bit.
Then he remembered what he heard on Veronika’s radio show and grimaced.
Deimos: “Maybe… I don’t think this Nuklear Intoxikation has much longer… even though we’re doing so well.”
He said glumly.
Ivy: “You don’t need Nuklear Intoxikation, Deimos…”She said sincerely.
Ivy: “You’re the captain of that ship with an unruly crew. You don’t need them, you can be a successful musician without them!”
She said doggedly. Deimos raised his eyebrows. That’s a fitting metaphor, he thought.
Deimos: “I guess you didn’t hear the segment on Headbanger’s Hellfire. Veronika recorded an argument between Craig and Tristan. Craig called us boring and Tristan snapped at him. I barely tolerate Makayla and she forces shit on others, not unlike Craig, and Craig is out to get me for ‘stealing’ someone with whom he never had a chance.”
His eyelids dipped and he removed his glasses. Ivy frowned and folded her arms across her chest.
Ivy: “We’re ‘boring’, huh?! I’d rather be ‘boring’ than be an annoying asshole.”
She huffed. Tell me about it, Deimos thought.
Deimos: “No matter where I go, I am unsuccessful because someone else fucks it up, No, I am not laying blame as Craig does but this is the truth in this case.”
He said with disappointment in his tone and put his glasses back on.
Ivy: “I’m sorry, Deimos… but you’re not the reason for that and maybe it’s a sign to work on your own?… I think you and I both thrive best working for ourselves and not in groups. I work for myself and on my own as a freelancer. I never thrived working with others. You can sing and hire someone else to fill in for the other instruments.”
She suggested to him. Deimos paused and cupped his chin. It’s not a bad idea; it might be best, he thought. Thinking about it more, he thought it was excellent and he smiled a bit. Ivy read his thoughts and sat with him, feeling at ease.
Deimos’ kittens, Holly and Leo were chasing each other and jumped on the table to turn the radio on. Veronika’s radio show played the conversation Tristan had with Craig and they heard Craig call Ivy whiny and boring.
Deimos turned off the radio and heaved a deep sigh. Ivy’s face flickered with annoyance.
Ivy: “...Whiny and boring?”
She clenched her fingers into the lounge chair.
Ivy: “I can’t fucking stand that asshole! I’m so sick of him. I’m all Craig’d out now! I’ve heard enough!”
She snapped as her bottom lip trembled.
Ivy: “I dealt with assholes like him all through school calling me boring and mocking me for not talking to them. No shit I didn’t talk to them. Then I dealt with this from Larry, Bobby, and Krystal, too!”
She said bitterly.
Ivy: “Maybe I really am whiny and boring then if so many people say this…”
She cried. Deimos knit his eyebrows, put his arm around her, and held her close.
Deimos: “If I liked boring people, I would love to be around Larry, Bobby, and Craig. Tristan said to Craig you captured his interest. Do you remember he listened to Larry’s show to fall asleep and it worked? Bobby is just the same ol’, same ol’ ‘Oi, let’s flush this turd, Ronnie’ and plays a flushing sound over and over. You told me about Krystal. She went to Caliwood to ‘make it big in the movies’ and… she’s now starring in porn. Craig… yeah.”
He rolled his eyes.
Deimos: “Look at who’s saying you’re boring compared to whose hearts you’ve captured. Quality over quantity.”
He said earnestly.
Ivy: “Thanks, Deimos…”
She smiled and kissed him. Deimos closed his eyes and returned the kiss.
Ivy: “You’re right, they’re all boring… and annoying!”
She drew a short, gusty breath.
Ivy: “I’m glad I captured your and Tristan’s interest!”
She nodded.
Deimos: “Look at how Tristan roasted Craig. Craig lived with him and sponged off him. He wasn’t working so how was he supporting himself financially? He wasn’t. Tristan was. Now that’s a loser!”
He said earnestly.
Ivy: “So, he is a leech.”
She shook her head.
Deimos: “Yeah, so don’t let his words affect you.”
He kissed her head.
Ivy: “Thank you, Deimos, you’re right.”
She kissed him back.