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"Well, I don't want an easy life. I want a fulfilling one."
"Very admirable," he says, but his smirk says he's mocking me.
I’m growing angrier by the minute. Who does he think he is to judge me like that? I don’t care how much money Marco has, or doesn’t have. I’m with him because I love him, and he loves me.
I push my plate away, suddenly not hungry anymore. "You know what? I think I’m gonna go find Marco. See if he’s done killing himself at the gym yet."
"I told you to give him space."
"I know what you said, but I don't care. He's my boyfriend and I'm worried about him."
Heratio gives me a severe squint. "You and him are that serious?"
"Yeah, we are." I glare at Heratio. "You're surprised?"
"Marco doesn't like labels."
"Or maybe you know him as little as you know me," I cut back.
He sets his fork down loudly on his plate. The two of us stare each other down. Finally, he raises his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Please finish eating and don't go hunting for my brother. Can you do that?"
I take a deep breath and nod, trying to push the anger down. "Yeah, I can do that."
"Good," he says, picking up his fork again. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just not used to people like you."
"People like me?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Yeah, people who aren't in it for the money. It's a rare thing on this ship."
"These people," I say, scanning the dining area, "they're all customers of yours. How can you dislike them so much when they fund your whole existence?"
He wags his fork at me with a smirk. "Hypocrite. That's what I was saying before. Money is everything, we all want it, we should all be thankful for it."
"Okay, but you don't sound thankful. You sound resentful."
Heratio slides deeper into his chair, like he's retreating into himself. Annoyed––he's very annoyed. Not with me, I don't think. "I can need the money, need the customers, and still find the system predatory."
We eat in silence for a few minutes, the tension between us palpable.
Finally, Heratio breaks the silence. "You know, I didn't mean to insult you earlier. I don't really know anything about you, and I shouldn't make assumptions like that."
I nod, feeling a little bit of my anger dissipate. "It's okay. I just don't like being judged."
"I get that," he says, taking a sip of his drink, then finishing off the last of his pancakes. "Listen, the issue between my brothers and myself has nothing to do with you. Marco might think you're able to support him, but it doesn't matter. It's our problem, our future. Evenifyou're dating Marco."
"Who's dating Marco?" Trey says from behind me. I sit up sharply, staring as he rounds the table into view. He's wearing black cargo shorts and a faded Stone Temple Pilots tee. If I thought Heratio had gone casual, Trey is another level.
His eyes meet mine, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. "Ah."
"Ah?" I repeat.
Trey shrugs. "People should be allowed to keep their personal lives to themselves. Lord knows there's a lack of privacy these days with our 24/7 phone access." He pulls a chair from another table over, spinning it, sitting in it backwards.
Heratio scowls, like he's heard this before. "In this family, personal choices can't be private. They affect all of us too much."
Trey grabs one of my uneaten muffins, taking a big bite. He speaks with his mouth full. "That what you two were on about over here? Family business chat?"
"I was trying to learn more about what you guys do," I say.
