Chapter 26 - Dominic
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Dominic
Full of shame and with my head hanging low, I stepped past Nico into the apartment. During the ride, I had managed to keep the tears in check, but as soon as I saw Nico's worried and sympathetic face, I couldn’t hold them back any longer.
Fuck! I wasn’t usually this emotional. In acting school, I’d been the one who couldn’t squeeze out a single tear. Crying just didn’t come naturally to me. Not even the memories of my childhood could bring up any tears, as that time in my life was just a void—completely empty.
But now I knew which feeling to use in the future. It was so overwhelming that it took my breath away and hit me like a sledgehammer. It was a combination of fear and shame, worse than any torture. The feeling of having lost Kilian was suffocating.
“Come,” Nico said, guiding me past the kitchen to the dining table. “Sit down.”
I sank into a chair, wiped my face for the hundredth time, and sniffled as Nico placed a box of tissues in front of me. While I blew my nose, he poured two glasses of water and sat down across from me.
“Are you on drugs?” he asked.
I shook my head and took a sip of water. I didn’t even want to imagine what kind of wreck I’d be if I’d also been high. At least I’d had enough sense to stay sober.
“Were you at a party?”
I stared at his gray sweatpants and light blue T-shirt for a while—I couldn’t bring myself to face him as I nodded with remorse. We sat in silence while I tried to concentrate on my breathing.
“Did you … were you raped?”
I heard the fear in Nico’s shaky voice and felt the courage it must have taken him to ask that question.
“No,” I said quietly—though I was well aware that the situation could easily be perceived that way. But I couldn’t get enough of Kilian. He had given me what I so desperately needed.
He’d called it a “goodbye fuck” before walking out on me, leaving no room to explain.
It sounded as if we’d been in a relationship and he’d caught me cheating.
I knew that Livio’s message had triggered my addiction. But when I stood in front of that table of drugs and saw the Viagra, I realized I wasn’t lost yet. I came to my senses and figured if I was already there, I might as well give things a test run—after all, I’d been able to perform with Kilian.
Or was I just fooling myself?
“What did you screw up?” Nico asked.
I cleared my throat and squirmed in my chair. “The thing with Kilian.”
“You two seemed to get along so well. You stayed with him when he was sick. What happened?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Sick … What a fucking mess.” I propped my elbows on the table and cracked my knuckles. “He showed up at the party,” I choked out, finally meeting Nico’s gaze.
His light hair hung loose, tucked behind his ears. His gentle eyes rested on me, giving me time to collect my thoughts without pressuring me with questions.
I shook my head in disbelief. “I don’t know how, but he was there. And …” I squeezed my eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. “It was so good.”
“You were able to?” Nico nodded briefly toward my lap.
“Yeah,” I said, staring out the window and picking at my lower lip. “Viagra makes it possible.” I shuddered. “But the point is, I couldn’t before. I didn’t feel anything with those other guys. No arousal. It was only when Kilian walked in … Shit, man.”
“And where is Kilian now?”
“No idea. He called it a goodbye fuck and disappeared.”
“That sounds like you broke up. Were you together?”
“It’s all my fault. Ever since Livio showed up at the theater on Thursday, everything’s gone to hell. And it’s because of me.”
“It’ll be okay,” Nico said confidently. “You’re here now. Get some sleep. Stay a few days. It’s probably better than going home.”
“I have to work.”
“At Red? As a bouncer? Definitely not. I’ll call you in sick. You need a quiet weekend. And on Monday, you’ll call your therapist.”
“I need to shower,” I said abruptly, standing up.
I felt so dirty—not because of Kilian, but because of all the other guys at the party. I was disgusted with myself.
Nico handed me a towel and set out a toothbrush. When I came out of the shower, he showed me which room I could use.
“This was the guest room, but I use it as a writing space now. The bed’s freshly made. I left you a T-shirt too.” He walked across the room and pulled the white curtains shut. “Luca will be home at some point, but don’t worry, I told him about you.”
I nodded and sat down on the bed. “Thanks,” I muttered.
The tears had stopped by now, but I still wiped my cheek just to be sure.
“I’ve never seen you this out of sorts,” Nico said. “Not even after what happened with Gian.”
My shoulders slumped as I stared at the floor. “I hope you’re right.”
“About what?”
“That everything will be okay.”
“Doesn’t it always turn out okay?”
I nodded, my eyes lingering on the bizarre painting on the wall. The style seemed familiar. Could it be one of Lucien’s?
“Get some sleep.”
And so I did. The night wasn’t particularly restful since I kept waking up, but it still helped. Far from my own world, I felt safe in Hector’s apartment. It was like a retreat—a hiding place where no one could find me.
When I woke up the next morning, I stayed in bed as long as my bladder allowed. I listened to the sounds of the apartment and heard voices—probably Luca and Nico talking.
I had met Luca and his boyfriend Juri at the gallery opening. The two of them were so sweet together. While Juri had been a bit reserved with me, Luca had been open and friendly. He’d grilled me about Hector—grinning as he admitted he might use the information against him one day.
After relieving myself in the bathroom, I found Nico sitting alone at the dining table, engrossed in his laptop with a coffee in hand.
“Hey! How are you feeling?” he asked with a smile, lifting his cup.
“Better than last night,” I admitted, sitting across from him. “Was that Luca earlier?”
“Yeah. He went to training.”
“And how are things going with you?”
“Well …” Nico set his cup down beside the laptop and leaned back. “I signed the publishing contract yesterday and sent the manuscript to my editor.”
“Oh, really? Congratulations!”
“Yeah … She said I should finally get an Instagram account.”
“I’ve been telling you that,” I teased, leaning back and clasping my hands behind my head.
“And a website.”
“Can’t help you there,” I laughed.
“Figured as much …”
“And what does your dad think about all this? I mean … I assume you’re publishing as Nicola Rossi. Everyone will know The Birds’ Song of Laughter is by you.”
Nico scoffed and reached for his coffee. “I told him, loud and clear, that he no longer gets a say in this. He falsified evidence and nearly ruined my career because of it. Hector’s helping me sort it out so my father can’t enforce the old contract.”
“That’s good. I’m happy for you.”
Nico motioned toward the kitchen with a nod. “Help yourself. You know how to work a coffee machine.”
“Thanks.”
I grabbed a glass, filled it with tap water, and drank it down in big gulps. Then I made myself a coffee and sat at the table with Nico.
“I already called in sick for you at Red,” he said with a sly grin.
“I’m not sick.”
He sighed. “You need a break. It’s beautiful outside. We could take a walk—it’ll help clear your head. But I need to get a few things done first.”
“Hm,” I mumbled noncommittally.
Nico was right. I really did need a break—from everything. I needed distance from my life and from the string of screw-ups that had piled up like a mountain of crap over the last few days. I was exhausted, desperate for peace, and ready to disconnect from it all.
And that’s exactly what I did. While Nico ran errands—shopping, or whatever else—I stayed alone in Hector’s apartment.
I sat out on the terrace, which had a view stretching across the rooftops all the way to the lake, and tried to study my lines.
But before long, I ended up lost in thought, doing absolutely nothing.
I felt empty, yet there was this tugging sensation inside me—a feeling I couldn’t quite put into words.
Waves of memories washed over me: panic attacks, shame, and loneliness.
I couldn’t bring myself to turn on my phone.
The script was saved on a file, so I had no reason to take my phone off airplane mode.
It just wasn’t possible.
What if Kilian had texted me?
What if he hadn’t?
I wasn’t sure which would be worse.
And Livio. His parties always ran through Sunday.
Could I have resisted if he’d texted me again?
Probably not. So it was smart to wait until Nico got back.
Despite being overwhelmed by chaotic thoughts, I found a strange sense of peace in doing nothing. It felt serene to sit here, soak up the sun, and just breathe.
“Dude, what are you doing?” I suddenly heard a voice from inside. “What’s wrong with you?”
I turned my head to see Juri lightly smacking Luca on the back of the head. “You’re too much.”
“What?” Luca defended himself, following Juri out of my line of sight. “No filmmaker would pass up this opportunity.”
“Delete it!”
“Why?”
I hadn’t even realized they’d come home. I’d been so deep in thought I also hadn’t noticed how hungry I’d gotten. So I picked up my empty glass and went inside.
“Hey, Dominic,” Juri greeted me.
“Hey,” I replied.
Luca also said hello but immediately focused on his phone again. Juri clearly disapproved, nudging him with his shoulder. “Tell him!”
I furrowed my brow. This was about me?
Luca stepped toward me, his smile sheepish. “I’m sorry,” he said, holding out his phone. “I just filmed you without asking.”
I watched the clip: me sitting on the chair, occasionally shifting positions, running my fingers through my hair and over my face—completely lost in thought and tense. I hadn’t realized how I appeared.
“It’s such a bad habit of his,” Juri said, opening the fridge.
“Why did you do that?” I asked, dumbfounded. “What do you need it for?”
“I’m working with Nico on this theater piece,” Luca explained, his face lighting up with excitement. “I already have some clips I can use. But this? The way you were just sitting there … it’s perfect!”
My gaze drifted back to the screen, and I paused. “This clip is almost fifteen minutes long. You filmed me for that long?”
Luca gave an awkward grin and nodded. “Sorry?” His blue-gray eyes grew wide as he fidgeted with his damp platinum-blond hair.
“That sounded like a question.”
But Luca had a certain charm—something fresh and disarming—that I couldn’t help but find amusing.
“You’re an actor,” he continued cautiously. “For Nico’s play, you wouldn’t even need to learn any lines.”
“I’m not acting here,” I pointed out.
“No one has to know that.”
“Ugh!” Juri groaned, clutching a bottle of iced tea from the fridge. “Just delete the clip if he doesn’t want it.”
“We’re not there yet,” Luca insisted, turning back to me. “Do you know Nico’s play?”
“No,” I said, holding out my empty glass, which Juri filled with iced tea.
“Oh! It’s great! It’s about a woman who falls madly in love with a dead man.”
“Let me guess—I’d be the dead guy?”
“Yes!”
The sound of a key turning in the front door interrupted us. “Hello!” Nico called as he came in and closed the door behind him. When he saw the three of us standing in the kitchen, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“And here comes the writer!” Luca announced. “I’m just trying to convince Dominic to be in our play.”
Juri grabbed his cigarettes and disappeared out onto the terrace.
Nico, now heavily laden, set his shopping bags on the counter and unloaded the groceries into the fridge. “What role? There’s only one male speaking part, and it’s an old man.”
“No,” Luca objected, holding up the video. “This is better!”
Nico paused, watching a few seconds of the clip. “Oh … that’s good! Can we use this?”
Both of them turned to face me, their enthusiasm overwhelming. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, so I shrugged. “Sure, whatever,” I muttered, heading back out to the terrace and collapsing into my chair, feeling drained.
Juri stood at the railing, smoking and typing something on his phone. When his cigarette burned down, he came over to stub it out in the ashtray next to me.
“You look totally burnt out,” he said as he sat down beside me.
“Yeah, I guess I am. If I were a smoker, I’d bum a cigarette off you right now.”
Juri cackled. “I wish I’d never started.”
A faint smile tugged at my lips but disappeared as a dark thought shot through my mind. “I wish that too.”
“What did you start?”
“It’s nothing,” I said. But it wasn’t nothing. I was about to burst from all the crap bottled up inside me. “I just got mixed up in something.”
“What kind of something?” he asked.
“Chemsex parties.”
Juri fell silent, so I turned to look at him. He met my gaze knowingly and leaned back in his chair as he lit another cigarette.
“Those parties are brutal,” he said, exhaling smoke.
“How do you know?”
“I worked as a call boy long enough to see how that stuff destroys people. I know two guys who got HIV at those parties. Not long ago, I even heard about a guy who hung himself during one.”
A wave of darkness crashed over me like an avalanche.
I had no idea how long I stared into nothing, my mind replaying the memory of the bright white ceramic floor and the overturned wooden stool.
Eventually, I managed to tear myself away from the image.
I leaned forward, burying my face in my hands.
But I could still see Gian, hanging from the metal beam in that sterile apartment. The stool beneath him. The messy bed behind him where the threesome had just taken place.
“Fuck,” I said, my voice breaking as I pressed my palms harder against my face. “We were only gone for a quick shower.”
I’d replayed that night in my head countless times—alone, with Nico, even with my therapist. I knew there was nothing I could have done to stop it. Still, I couldn’t let go of the guilt.
“I’m sorry,” Juri said softly. “I didn’t know …”
“It’s fine,” I said sharply, sucking in a shaky breath and straightening up. “It’s just … a lot right now.”