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Victor
Dad sends Gray over to make sure I don’t kill myself before he can make money off my face.
I crack the front door. “No.”
Before I can close it, he holds up a plastic bag. I can see peppers, tortillas, raw steak. He has an apron in his other hand, rolled around a bundle of chef’s knives. When I open the door further, he raises his eyebrows at my oversized Vampire Weekend t-shirt and wet hair held back with a leopard print headband. This from a man who shows up to cook fajitas in a Versace suit.
He follows me into the kitchen and I slide up onto the counter, holding out my hands for the plastic bag. Everything inside is still in sealed packaging, even the veggies. I concentrate on opening everything and lining it up while Gray takes off his jacket and hangs the apron around his neck. He turns his back to me so I can tie the strings. “Too muscle-bound to reach your own ass?” I ask, and his lips twitch, which is as close as he gets to smiling.
He’s a good-looking guy, if you want someone who can take you to court and suplex you in the same day. The way he pushes his glasses up when he’s concentrating is sex on a stick. He’s also a fag, like me, much to Dad’s chagrin. I’d let him fuck me if he wanted to, I guess, but he’s never asked and that’s one reason he’s the only person in this world I trust even a little.
He lines a pan with strips of steak and cuts up one of each color of bell pepper. The smell of charring makes me hungry and nauseous at the same time, so I tip my head back against the cabinets and try not to breathe. Every time he does something to the food, he moves slowly, so I can watch. That’s another reason I trust him.
I pull one knee up, rest my chin on it, and run my finger along the hot edge of the pan he’s using. He glances up at me while his hands continue flipping the bits of meat.
“You knew, didn’t you?” My voice comes out hoarse. “He couldn’t have drafted that right of publicity thing without you. You knew what he was trying to do.”
His hand goes still, and he stares at the stovetop as his jaw works. Finally, he points at the cupboard behind me and I take out two plates, handing them to him. He spoons the fillings into the tortillas with silent precision. The third reason I trust him is because he lets things be quiet when he doesn’t have a good answer.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” he says finally. “It was chaos after your test results hit the news. I wanted your father to give you the house and leave you in peace.” He closes his eyes for a second, then shakes his head and carries on. “Signing away your commercial rights was the only way he was going to let that happen. I hoped that circumstances would change and he wouldn’t use it against you.”
“Ha,” I scoff. He wraps one of the plates in cling film, holds it up for me to inspect, and puts it in the fridge. I pad after him on bare feet as he carries his plate out the back door, to the patio furniture I let rust in the rain because I couldn’t be arsed to cover it. He knows I like it out here, where I can smell the water. “So you’re going to show me how sorry you are by getting me out of this, right?”
It’s almost too dark to see his expression, but I know it’s not good. “My contracts don’t have loopholes.”
“I know.” I bury my head in my arms and listen to frogs calling in the distant dusk.
“You’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“Then don’t.”
“If you agreed to take a role in the company, even a small one, he’d drop this whole thing.” He holds up his hand when I open my mouth. “It’s your family’s legacy. And it would give you a purpose you desperately need.”
When he goes to spear a piece of steak, I snag the edge of his plate and pull it out of reach. “There isnothingthat man can do to me that’s worse than spending the rest of my life working for him. If that means doing this commercial or whatever, so be it.”
Gray pushes up his glasses and studies me. I always say he sold his feelings to the devil in exchange for his brain, but right now he looks sad. “Victor, this is going to be brutal for you. It’s more than just a commercial. You can’t magically switch yourself back on after this long. Fuck, you barely remember how to be human.” He cuts himself off, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”
I sink back in my chair, blinking at the Seattle skyline lit up across the water and smiling. My smile has been broken down, rinsed out, used up, and torn apart over the past ten years, but the one thing a good celebrity always knows how to do is smile, no matter what. “It’s ok.”
After an awkwardly long silence, he wipes his hands on his napkin and stands up with one of those groans that makes me tease him about being a decrepit thirty-five-year-old. “Excuse me.”
My back stiffens. I tip my chair on two legs as far as it will go, watching him walk down the hall. “Hey. Use the toilet in my room.”
He pauses. “What did you do to the downstairs one?”
“You really want to hear about my shits?”
He squints at me, then rolls his eyes and climbs the stairs. I lower my chair, blowing out a slow breath. While I wait, I stare at my hands. I squeeze the fingers of my left hand around my right wrist like Ethan Lowe did this morning, and hold it that way, watching white marks appear on my skin.
My safe world blew apart today, and I can’t help but feel like it’s all his fault.
When Gray comes back downstairs, I’m standing in the hall with his jacket and apron full of knives. He takes them hesitantly. “I don’t have anywhere to be. We could watch a movie or something.”
“Why?”
For once, he looks nonplussed. “I don’t know.” He takes his things and opens the front door. Then he pulls in a deep breath, like he’s going to blow my house down. “No one deserves to live like this, Victor. Not even you. I don’t give a fuck what you find to live for, but I need you to promise me that you won’t give up.”
“You’re letting in the damp.”
He slams the door unnecessarily hard. I stand still, shivering, rubbing one foot against my bare calf. After I hear his engine start, I put on headphones and sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor, unwrapping my cold dinner. When I’m finished licking the last bits of juice off my fingers, I slide down onto my back on the tile and close my eyes.
