17. Keep Staring
17
KEEP STARING
“ D ance for me,” Mathias once said, lips brushing against Alberto’s cheekbone and fingers curling around his arms, a storm raging in his chest. And boy, did he deliver.
Up and down he went, the dim glow of the fairy lights dancing in his eye. Alberto, who knew all the right moves… Not ten seconds had passed that Mathias had wanted to interrupt, and yet, he stood and watched a little longer. It was as it had always been: the temptation to spoil him, push him down, and turn him inside out, but also the urge to keep staring, to not ruin the moment just yet. He watched until he couldn’t take it anymore, until his hands moved by themselves, seized him, and roughly whirled him around. But before he could sink his teeth into the tender flesh of his neck, he was torn from his memory with a start.
“Hellooo! Where are you?”
Mathias frowned at the hand waving in front of his face, and he only relaxed when he recognized Elodie. She said something else, but the music was always so loud at Xavier’s, Mathias didn’t hear her. He shook his head while pointing at his ear.
She drew closer with a smile. “I was asking where you were.”
“I… uh…” His voice was drowned by the music, the cheers, the conversations, but he had no strength left to speak up. Not that he would have told the truth, since he was in Alberto Hell, of course. Lock ed in the memory of that night, the night he almost threw it all away for a chance at a smile…
When Alberto made his entrance ten minutes ago—looking more monstrous and dangerous than ever—all eyes fell on him, and Mathias was no exception. His wounded hand flexed in his pocket; his heart jolted before it recalled he and Alberto were over, then it sunk miserably to the bottom of his stomach.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to think of a valid excuse for his inattention. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
Elodie’s pretty features twisted up in concern. “Your mock exams?”
“That’s… that’s done. But I have that entrance examination soon.”
“What’s that for?”
Mathias realized he had never told her about his plans post Colette. “Culinary school.”
“You want to be a chef?” Elodie’s face brightened. “That’s amazing!”
“Is it, though?” Mathias couldn’t associate his name with the word amazing any more than he could separate the words Alberto from Hell .
“Of course! Chefs are known badasses.”
Mathias chuckled dryly at the thought. “Badasses…”
Searching for his eyes, Elodie added, “I know you’ll look great in that white uniform.” She nudged him with a bump of her hip. “Come on, give us a smile. You’ll do just fine at the exam, I’m sure of it.”
His lips stretched faintly, then he hung his head. When Mathias told Alberto he wanted to be a chef, the latter said he’d look hot in a black uniform. Not white, black . Since then, Mathias hadn’t been able to see himself dressed any other way; he’d be a chef in a black jacket—the black sheep of the flock.
“I heard it’s a very difficult job,” Elodie said. “High-pressure, with lots of people to manage…”
“True,” Mathias said, nodding. “But that’s okay. I like keeping busy.”
He would have to, if he didn’t want to lose his sanity. With Eric gone to Lyon and Elisa busy with her own studies, he’d be alone with his thoughts practically all the time. He would do whatever he could not to think at all.
“There’s also the waking up at crazy hours…” Elodie went on.
“I don’t mind.”
“Your girlfriend might.” She said it in a playful tone. Mathias wasn’t sure how to answer that .
“I already wake up early to exercise. I’m used to it.”
Elodie let out a laugh. “Now that’s something your girlfriend could never be mad about.”
Mathias felt at a complete loss. “What are we talking about? I don’t have a girlfriend, so no one is going to get mad about anything.”
Her smile wavered. “Okay…” After an awkward pause, she said, “You don’t have a girlfriend, really? A hundred percent sure?”
Mathias checked his surroundings in case there might have been a girlfriend hiding somewhere that he didn’t know about. “No.”
Elodie lowered her gaze, apparently in deep thought. Mathias was wondering what he had done wrong this time when she abruptly raised her head and set aside her drink on the console behind them. “Look, Matt.” She sounded serious. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush. I like you, I’d like to go out with you. What do you think?”
Mathias’s eyes briefly fell on the discarded cocktail leaving marks on the surface of Xavier’s antique console before snapping up to meet Elodie’s. “You… you like me?”
“Yeah! I mean, I was kind of obvious about it, but you never seemed to notice, so I kinda assumed you had a girlfriend outside of school…”
Mathias could only gawk at her. “Why?”
“Because if you were with someone from school, I’d have noticed…”
“No, I mean, why do you like me?”
Elodie laughed at his question, or the look on his face, or both. “Why not? You’re hot, and you’re nice…”
Mathias inspected himself to understand what was so hot about him in his baggy jeans and his old hoodie, when he clearly made no effort tonight—why bother, really—then he did a double take. “Nice? I’m nice?”
Elodie shrugged. “I don’t mind the surly type.”
Mathias couldn’t help smiling. He liked her; he always did. “I thought Eric was your type.”
“You can have more than one type.” She grinned. “Ask Eric.”
“Can you?”
Mathias wasn’t so sure. He was acutely aware of Alberto standing by the bar on the other side of the room. His type. Tall, thin, with a high pain tolerance and a good set of lungs. Was there any other type?
“Eric’s very cute,” Elodie went on. “You’re a different vibe, for sure, but I like it. Anyway, I’m starting to feel self-conscious here…” She br iefly hid her face behind her hands. “… So, here it is. Have you ever thought about me that way?”
Mathias knew he hadn’t. He wished he had, once again. They would have made a nice, maybe even healthy couple. Boy meets Girl, no gay agenda , no risk, and no heartbreak. But since he liked her, he owed her the same straight-forwardness she accorded him. “No,” he said. “Not really.”
“Oh, okay.” Elodie exhaled a slow breath, and her cheeks took on a pink tinge, but she recovered quickly. “Any chance you might change your mind, or…”
“I…” Mathias’s voice faltered. He couldn’t help being distracted by the sight of Alberto and Zak sharing what seemed to be a deep conversation. What was that about? “I… I don’t think so, no. Sorry.”
“Is it because of Joy?”
“What?” His attention returned to Elodie. “Who?”
“Never mind, it’s not that.” She shook herself off as if she’d been through something unpleasant and extended her hand. “Anyway, it’s done. Friends?”
“Sure. Friends.”
They shook hands, and that was that. She left him, and when Mathias glanced up, he found Alberto’s eyes weirdly fixed on him. His pulse quickening, Mathias turned his face away.
He wished he’d never gone to Alberto’s place. He wished he had been blind that night, and never saw what he saw. And he wished… he wished he’d paid more attention to Alberto’s cryptic sentences. He and his stepdad, they couldn’t be lovers. Mathias couldn’t recall a single nice thing Alberto said about the man; he had had enough time to go over their past conversations.
What was the point of thinking about that now? Mathias was trapped in some sort of limbo, unable to do anything. Alberto would never say what really happened, and Mathias didn’t have any tangible evidence to speak up. He couldn’t go around accusing ultra-wealthy businessmen of shady shit. Anything he’d say could have serious consequences, not only for him, but for Alberto’s family.
All Mathias could do was reflect on how useless he was.
One thing was for certain: despite how he felt right now at the sight of him, he could never have Alberto again. If he forgot himself and got near him again, he truly wouldn’t be any better than the girls from the O?cult video greedily throwing themselves at Alberto, unconcerned with his indifference. In all their time together, Mathias had never really tried to get to know him. He had only been good for stripping him of his clothes.
He should have kept staring. Mathias dipped his head, and his shame coiled around his heart, making it hard to breathe. Back then, at Eric’s party, up in his mother’s office… The place with the fairy lights, the bookshelf, and Alberto’s quiet little moans. When Alberto was dancing just for him, his gaze softer than the lights, when Mathias’s hands were shaking for want of touching him. He should have kept staring. But no, he had to move, ruining it all. This world was always in motion; no matter how desperately he wished so, Mathias would never have the ability to stop time.
By now, the loud music had all but melted away, drowned by the sound of Mathias’s blood thrashing in his ears. Was Alberto, like him, haunted by nightmares? By his worst memory playing on repeat every time he made any sort of mistake? In Mathias’s case, it was a never-ending hospital corridor with squeaky floors and flickering lights overhead, each inevitable step taking him closer to the door he didn’t want to open…
A string of comments, spoken first, then laughed out loud, gradually tore Mathias away from his thoughts. He blinked his way back to the party, listening to people’s jeers, and he realized with surprise that they were talking about Alberto. A quick look toward the dance floor told him everything he needed to know: Alberto and Melissa’s dance moves were suggestive enough to make it look like they were one minute away from tearing each other’s clothes. Mathias recognized the provocative glint in Alberto’s eye, sharp as a blade, reminding him of that T-shirt he once wore that said LOOK AWAY , implying I dare you .
With great difficulty, Mathias did tear his gaze away… only for it to fall on Kayvin. A murderous rage darkened his face; Mathias realized Alberto was the source of his hatred, and he didn’t even have time to think because Kayvin moved—and fast—with Steph at his heel.
Before even realizing it, Mathias was moving, too. He sprung forward into the mass of flailing limbs, his own hands extended toward Kayvin, his legs moving on their own as if they felt he was about to perform the greatest save of his career.
He got to him just as the other was flinging his fist right at Alberto’s unknowing face, slamming into him and hearing his huff of surprise. Kayvin reacted as if his fists also had minds of their own and had been hoping for a chance to swing at Mathias, but with the latter’s boxing training, ducking a drunken fist was no problem at all .
How Eric had flashed between them was a mystery—or not, considering his career choice—but Kayvin’s fist landed straight in his face. It only enraged Mathias further, but despite his grunt of pain, Eric was determined to stand between them. His arms wound around Mathias’s waist, and he shouted at them to knock it off, but the wave of chaos had swept over the inebriated crowd, and now several people were fighting, including Zak and his friend Camille. The two gave Kayvin’s equally aggressive friend Steph such a hard time that he slumped to the floor and was never seen again.
Mathias struggled against Eric’s grip. “Let me get to him! What the fuck are you doing?”
“Don’t. Do. Anything. Stupid!” Eric snapped back. He did his best to drag Mathias away despite his protests, and Kayvin only lowered his fists when Elodie stepped between them, using her body as a shield. Her move was followed by a charged silence.
“Enough of this bullshit,” she told Kayvin, her eyes flashing.
He let out a crazed laugh. “He started it!”
“And what were you rushing over there for?” Mathias retorted. “A picnic?” He turned to Eric. “Why did you stop me?”
His lip busted, giving him a sorry appearance, Eric forced Mathias to turn away from Kayvin. “Because… his father can make your family’s life difficult, and you don’t deserve that. Kayvin isn’t worth losing everything, Matt.”
“But he… but he?—”
“He what? You think he’s worth your dad losing his job? Or your sister not getting accepted into the school of her choice? Yeah, he knows Elisa’s your sister, and he’s capable of it.”
Eric’s words had the effect of a slap in the face; Mathias let his arms fall to the sides. The same hands had already caused enough trouble when they got him expelled from his former high school, putting his father in an impossible situation. They were the reason his former friends never kept in touch with him. They were the reason everyone he used to know was purposefully avoiding him.
“I don’t want to cause trouble,” he said in a thin voice.
“I know.” Eric rubbed his face with both hands. “It’s Kayvin’s fault anyway. He’s been super tense all evening, I saw him fight with Xavier earlier. I had a feeling something bad would happen. Why did you charge at him like that?”
“I thought he was about to hurt… Melissa.”
“Melissa? ”
Mathias didn’t want to tell him what he really thought, but thankfully, a disheveled Zak stepped over Steph’s body to jump into Eric’s arms, removing any other thoughts from his friend’s head.
“My love!” Zak clung to him with glistening eyes. “Oh, look how they massacred my boy!” His tone was way too dramatic for the occasion. Mathias quirked an eyebrow at him, and Zak pretended not to see him.
“Is Melissa okay?” Eric asked, suddenly sounding all dignified.
Camille—also stepping over Steph—came to stand by Mathias’s side, her face flushed. “She’s fine, but her friendship with Joy took a bigger hit than your face.” Eric gave her a wounded look, which she answered with a sheepish smile.
“Never mind Melissa,” Zak said, ever so charming. “Alberto got her out of harm’s way. Come here.” He took Eric’s chin and inspected his lip.
“Ow, ow, ow!”
The noble look all but vanished as Eric’s features twisted in pain, but he flashed Mathias a wink the moment Zak, barking for Xavier, turned his face away. The latter was nowhere to be seen, which was surprising, considering the scene erupted at his party.
“Kayvin’s mental,” Elodie said, looking shaken. “We need to do something about him.”
“I agree,” Mathias said grimly.
“Just—OW!” Eric howled when Zak gently pressed his own sleeve to his bloody lip, prompting Elodie and Mathias to exchange a look. “Someone should check on Alberto. I think Kayvin was going for him.”
“Good point,” Mathias said, immediately slipping away.
The crowd had exploded in smaller groups. Some, like Kayvin and his remaining friends, hurried to get their stuff and scram, others agglutinated near the bar, while the more hardcore ones hadn’t even stopped dancing. Mathias pushed past them, his scowl powerful enough to discourage any complaints. After a quick but unfruitful inspection of the nearby rooms, he concluded Alberto probably just went home.
Noting one of the patio doors was ajar, Mathias slid it open and stepped outside into the garden for a smoke. It was quiet enough to hear the faint sound of the wind whisking through the branches of the trees, but the exterior lights were turned off, and the only light was coming from the inside. Mathias didn’t notice anything unusual until he heard laughter in the distance and slowly approached to get a better look .
He only saw a vague silhouette at first, then his eyes adapted, and he recognized Alberto and Xavier standing together in the dark. They were talking in low voices that Mathias couldn’t hear. After a while, Alberto’s long fingers lifted to Xavier’s mouth, who took a drag of his cigarette. They looked at each other and laughed. Mathias’s heart ripped open from jealousy, from self-loathing, but he remained standing there stupidly, despite his desire to leave. After all, Alberto was fine. He didn’t appear hurt and was obviously having fun with Xavier and… and… oh? Yes. They were kissing now.
Wow .
It seemed their relationship really had already evolved into something else. How long had they been making out like that? Since Xavier’s stupid brunch? And to think, Mathias had once thought himself special. What a load of shit.
In addition, it seemed Mathias wasn’t the only one who knew about it. Tonight, Kayvin really was targeting Alberto when he charged into that crowd. At least Mathias did what he was supposed to: he helped Alberto out in the nick of time. Wasn’t that good enough?
Mathias stood there long enough to watch them kiss then part. But when Alberto, retracing his steps toward the house, saw him standing there and started acting concerned for him, something compelled Mathias to return inside before he could say something stupid, something that’d benefit no one. “It’s not all about you,” he told Alberto when the latter asked him why he hurt his hand. But of course, it was all about him. When had it ever not been about him? From the very beginning, it had always been about Alberto.
Back in the living room, Eric was still sitting against the wall, looking as if he were close to breathing his last. Zak was kneeling by his side and dabbing his lip with a giant handkerchief. If he was aware of his boyfriend’s overreaction, he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. “Look at you…” he said, his eyes soft. “What can I do?”
“I don’t know,” Eric said weakly. “It will never get better. I’ll be scarred forever, probably… Maybe I’ll even die…”
“Hey!” Mathias impatiently kicked his heel, interrupting their scene and receiving a scandalized look from both. “Are you going to be okay? At your club, I mean.”
Eric wrinkled his nose. “Sure, I’ll just tell them my lover bit me.”
“Your lover will shatter your kneecaps if you ever throw yourself into a fight like this again!” Zak snarled, causing Eric to burst out laughing .
“Ow!” He winced, raising his hand to his lip. “Don’t make me laugh! I’m dying, remember?” Zak gave him a reproachful look. Eric caught his sleeve with a hopeful pout. “Now, what were we saying about making it better?”
Mathias attempted to apologize to his friend for the whole debacle, but Eric wouldn’t hear it. He did, however, tell him to take care of himself before Zak pulled him to his feet and led him—unjustifiably limping—out of the room.
Mathias left the party with a heavy heart and returned home to an empty house. He couldn’t know for sure why his feet had moved on their own tonight, but weeks ago, he would have feared his actions would betray his feelings toward Alberto to the world. Now that he finally acted on them, no one had noticed anything weird. It was almost laughable…
Exhausted, Mathias took refuge in his bed. Not even an hour later, as he lay there awake, his gaze lost in the ceiling— still staring —he received a text. The light coming from his phone caught his eye, and the name of the sender flashing on the screen made him bolt upright in bed.