“Sorry. I mean, you’re friends with Everest, right? You have that…ah, shop.”
The ah, shop. I get that a lot from guys in town who want to come in but haven’t been brave enough to embrace the things they’re craving. They see me with my tables at the street market, and they’ve peeked inside the darkened windows. They recognize my pink hair and whole femme look I prefer.
And when they see me out in public, they stammer and stutter and say, “Oh, you’re the guy with the ah, shop.”
I smile at the stranger. “You know Everest?”
“Yeah. He’s my best friend.” He blinks, then flushes. “Sorry. I’m Zane. We haven’t been introduced.” He offers me his fist, and I bump it without losing my footing.
Oh, sothisis Zane. I eye him a little. If this guy is Everest’s best friend, he can’t be all bad, right?
“He and I have gotten to know each other quite well lately,” I tell him. “Good dude.”
“Yeah. He was.”
I lift a brow.
“Sorry. I mean, he is. Just…he’s gotten himself into a fucking weird situation with that monster.” He spits the last word, and it crawls up my spine because it sounds like a slur. “He says he’s fine, but I don’t know if I believe him.”
I have no idea what to say. “I mean, Rathyn seems like a good guy.”
“He’s not a guy,” Zane cuts in.
It’s not worth the argument. “I think he treats Everest well. And Everest seems happy.”
“Or is he drunk on monster dick and being manipulated into thinking he’s happy?” Zane hits the button and begins to run faster. “I know they seem all nice and friendly. You talk to Q for five minutes and you think these guys are harmless little puppies.”
I’ve never known a puppy to be harmless. They bite and are impossible to control. But whatever. Semantics.
“But Q’s part of the fucking problem. They’re gaslighting the entire world into thinking that we owe them our bodies. And for what? Drugs? They help now, but I doubt they’ve studied the long-term effects of these supposed medications.”
If he weren’t being so bigoted about it, I might agree with him on some of it. I really don’t think anyone has studied the long-term effects because they haven’t been around all that long. It’s the same as other drugs and treatments, really.
They just…skipped the testing parts.
And considering I’ve taken zitha more than once with zero terrible side effects and it’s alleviated my pain entirely, I’m happy for the exchange. And if it weren’t for Cielo, I’d still be happy to do my part at the clinic.
But Zane isn’t entirely off base. It is an uncomfortable exchange—a requirement wrapped up with a nice bow to look like consent. But it’s not consent when the refusal to participate is prison. It’s like the draft, if being drafted meant weekly blow jobs.
“Sorry,” Zane says after a long beat of uncomfortable silence. “I’m not trying to be a dick. The whole thing just freaks me out, and I’m afraid for Everest. He’s a nice guy, but he went through it when he was a kid. Like…bad. And I’m afraid he’s just into this because he finally feels loved.”
Well. That makes my heart ache uncomfortably. I know about his aunt and uncle, but the tone in Zane’s voice tells me that Everest was holding back when we talked.
“I don’t think that’s a unique experience. We all have that a little,” I tell him. “Even some of the Vyastil.” I close my eyes for a second and picture Cielo, and my stomach twists.
Zane looks at me. “You’re close with some of them?”
I don’t want to give anything away, so I shrug. Before I can come up with some story that’ll make the guy stop staring at me like he’s trying to dig into my brain, Luca appears with a grin and gives a nod to Zane.
“My brother, Luca,” I say, then sign for Luca’s benefit. When Zane looks moderately alarmed, I add, “He’s Deaf.”
‘I know a little sign,’ Zane offers, his signs stiff and a little awkward. ‘Everest and I took a class.’
Luca brightens and begins to sign slowly, so I take that opportunity to slip off the treadmill and let them finish whatever conversation they can have. Gulping down water asthough I’ve broken a sweat—which I haven’t—I pass by the lifting bros once more, then catch a glimpse of Quilliyn, who’s now at the front desk.
He grins as I approach, and he makes a comforting trill when I lay my arms on the desk. “Not to be way too blunt, but that Zane guy…”
Quilliyn’s face twists slightly, and I take that as a confirmation of how I’m feeling.
