Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
EREZ
Zephyr is not in his office when I arrive this morning.
Neither is Lanzo though that doesn’t surprise me.
Their relationship hasn’t recovered since the stint on Dark Island last winter.
I almost feel bad for Lan because he truly doesn’t understand.
It’s difficult for someone with an antisocial disorder to truly comprehend emotions.
They may understand what you mean when you say betrayal—the dictionary definition—but they will never fully get it.
That’s where their relationship sits right now.
So yeah, neither of my brothers are in Zephyr’s office.
It’s not empty, though. Orev is sitting at the table I’ve been occupying when I’m here.
He doesn’t look up when I walk in. As I make my way around to the other side of the table, I find a hologram of Aven sitting on the table beside Orev’s tablet.
I’m not going to pretend that Aven doesn’t set me on edge too.
I have seen all the movies warning about how bad an idea it is to create computers that can learn and act independently of human input.
It’s frightening because I’ve been in Aven’s company for many years, and yeah…
They could certainly destroy the world all on their own.
Easily. With little more than a mere thought.
“Hey,” I greet when it’s clear that Orev isn’t going to acknowledge me at all.
He glances up, meets my eyes briefly, and turns his attention back to his screen. “Erez.”
“Good afternoon, Aven,” I greet.
They turn their holographic attention to me and smile. “Good afternoon.”
“What brings you both to my brother’s office?” I ask.
Aven turns their attention to Orev, waiting for him to answer.
“Lanzo is being an asshole and kicked me out of our office. I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s usually over it by now. Since Zephyr is mad at Lanzo and I’m mad at Lanzo, I decided to come up here. We’ll be mad at him together.”
Aven glances in my direction. No doubt they understand that’s not how this is going to go down.
“You really think that’s how this will work?” I ask. “You think Zeph is going to welcome you into his office because you’re angry at Lan?”
“Yes. It’s a variation of ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’”
Aven turns their attention to me. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Ah. You want to see the confrontation.”
“I do.”
“You take too much pleasure in confrontation,” I gently chide.
“I blame Ellory,” Aven says. “I was in my infancy and watching Ellory take immense joy out of these kinds of situations.”
They look so fond and reminiscent of the memory. I’d mistake Aven for a real person if they were more than a foot tall right now. The hologram has gotten so good that there’s almost no indication that they’re not whole and solid. It was certainly disorienting at first.
Orev listens to our conversation with a frown, and I almost feel bad for him. Almost.
“Look what I’m learning,” Aven says, and suddenly there’s a thing hovering in front of me. It’s phallic shaped, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. “Ellory is teaching me to crochet cocks.”
“With… code?” I ask.
The phallic stretches wide, and sure enough, as it zooms in, I can see the strand of yarn. Closer still, I see that yarn is made of symbols, letters, and numbers. It’s an intricately woven code and seriously impressive.
“That’s really cool, but why?”
“So I can have a cock too, of course. Ellory and I listen to all the filthy books, and it sounds like having a dick would be fun.”
“Please trust me when I tell you that I’m asking out of curiosity and no other reason, but what would you do with a dick, Aven?” I nearly follow that up with you’re not real but decide that’s a good way to get me on their shit list. That is not a place you want to be.
Aven grins. “Wear it, of course. Wave it around. Bounce with it. Maybe pull some pranks.”
“I feel like Voss is going to ground you.”
Aven’s laughter fills the entire room. Not because it’s loud but because it comes from all the walls.
Our conversation stops when my brother steps into his office. He grins at Aven and me, but that smile falls away. Orev doesn’t look away from his tablet. It’s rare that he acknowledges anyone outside of his family unless prompted first.
Zephyr watches him as he takes his seat. When it’s clear that Orev has no intention of addressing his presence, Zeph says, “What are you doing in here, Orev?”
Orev finally looks up. “I’m mad at Lan.”
Zephyr stares at him, clearly waiting for further explanation, but Orev has already turned back to his tablet as if that truly explains it all. Irritated, Zephyr says, “Why is that my problem?”
“It’s not,” Orev answers, his focus still on his tablet.
“Then why are you making it my problem?”
Orev looks up again, this time with a frown. “I’m not making it your problem. I didn’t even tell you why he’s angry with me.”
“You just said you’re mad at him,” I point out.
“I am. Because he’s being an asshole and is angry with me.”
I don’t bother to point out the childish nature of that exchange. It would go nowhere anyway.
“You know what?” Zephyr says, shaking his head. “I don’t even care. Get out.”
Orev’s eyebrows pinch together. “Why?”
“I don’t like you, so you have no business in my office.”
Orev frowns as the confusion disappears. “I haven’t done anything for you not to like me.”
“Haven’t you? Trying to keep Matty a prisoner in the underground room isn’t a reason not to like you?”
“I took that back and supported him leaving the island. That cancels out the previous days’ argument. Now we have a blank slate,” Orev says.
Aven looks at me with barely contained glee.
Now, I don’t know Ellory well. He’s Orev’s uncle, which means he’s not the generation I grew up with.
However, I still know all about him, and from every conversation and story I’ve ever heard, Ellory Van Doren is a little unhinged.
Watching Aven practically vibrate with excitement reminds me of the way I always imagined Ellory.
Zephyr, however, is not entertained. He stares at Orev as if he can’t believe Orev is being so dense.
Maybe I should remind him that he’s not dealing with someone neurotypical.
Antisocial disorders simply don’t understand outside of black and white.
Their logic is the only logic that makes sense to them.
Maybe my brother figures that out because he briefly shakes his head as if dismissing the need to make Orev understand. “Get out,” he says instead.
Orev’s expression is a little comical now. Aven laughs once again, and the sound fills the office. Orev glances in their direction.
“Why?” Orev asks.
“I don’t like you, and quite frankly, I don’t have any interest in talking to a wall. It’s a waste of time trying to make you understand, so just get out and stay out. I don’t care if you’re mad at my brother. That doesn’t make us friends.”
“If I apologize?” Orev asks. “Do you need an apology?”
I sigh, and Orev glances at me now. He frowns, understanding that my sigh means he’s not getting it.
“Get. Out,” Zephyr says more firmly, now getting to his feet. He rounds his desk again, and Orev stands as well.
“This is kind of immature,” Orev says. “I did the right thing. You should be over it by now. It was months ago.”
“Immature is whatever bullshit you and Lanzo go through every other fucking month,” Zephyr counters.
“Immature is refusing to even pretend to understand how someone around you feels simply because they’re not your family.
Immature is this stupid mindset of us being mad at Lanzo together.
What’s not immature is eliminating toxic people from your life because they’re not good for you.
That, Orev, is you. Get out of my office. ”
Orev looks like a statue with how still he’s become.
If you’ve ever seen documentaries on psychopaths, you can clearly see the way they shift between moods and the emotions they try to emulate based on what’s expected of them in any given situation. The displays are often exaggerated because they truly can’t conceptualize the emotions behind it.
The difference between them and the antisocial disorders I grew up around is that none of the people in my life with this diagnosis ever tried to assimilate to society.
They weren’t made to. It wasn’t expected of them.
Excluding my father, they all grew up in an environment that was strict on teaching morality so that they could understand what’s expected of them, but they were also told that they didn’t have to be something they weren’t.
No masks. No fake emotions. Only authenticity.
Which means Orev doesn’t try to show remorse right now.
He doesn’t play up any emotional display at all.
He stares, trying to figure out what the problem is.
Being authentically himself means he has no idea why Zephyr hasn’t processed these events the same way he has.
He can see that he doesn’t, but up until this conversation, he truly didn’t know Zephyr would think and feel differently. It doesn’t make sense to him.
Honestly, Aven hanging around to witness it should have told him this wasn’t going to go his way.
After several silent minutes pass in which Orev stares at Zephyr, he eventually picks up his tablet and leaves Zeph’s office.
One thing I’ll give Zeph is that despite how he feels regarding any situation with one of the psychos in our life, he’s grown up with a sibling who needs time to process and understand.
He’s patient, letting Orev have his look.
Giving him time to come to some conclusion.
It doesn’t mean Orev understands. It’s more likely that he’s even more perplexed now than he had been previously. But he got to a point where he understood that Zephyr was being serious. He doesn’t forgive Orev, and he does want Orev to leave.
Orev will either dismiss it entirely now that he’s left the office, or he’ll try to rationalize the entire situation that this stems from until he thinks he understands where he misunderstood the situation to begin with.
Not because he wants to make it right but so he can use this experience later to guide his actions should the need arise.
Zephyr shuts the door and returns to his desk. Aven’s hologram stands and stretches their hands over their head. It’s weird seeing a mini person standing on the table in front of me. Not a child but a tiny adult.
With a satisfied grin, Aven vanishes, leaving my brother and me alone. Not that Aven isn’t around. Aven is everywhere all at once. They’re still here, but the majority of their consciousness has left.
“You could have told him to leave,” Zephyr says.
“I’m not going to tell you I tried, but I did tell him he was mistaken with how he thought this was going to go. You know how they are. I wasn’t going to convince him he was wrong.”
He snorts. “Dumbasses.”
“Do you know what they’re fighting about this time?”
Zephyr rolls his eyes. “Honestly, no. And I truly don’t care. If I had to take a guess, one of them is fucking someone else and the other is jealous. That’s been the pattern over the last few years, anyway. They don’t know how to handle their jealousy.”
What we identify as jealousy is really something more along the lines of possession.
In my observation, I’ve witnessed that psychopaths sort of imprint on someone and become instantly obsessed.
They do whatever’s necessary to make that person theirs and keep them, no matter the consequences nor the legality of it.
This isn’t a display of jealousy, though it certainly appears that way. It’s foreplay to violence if whichever one of them is fucking around with someone else doesn’t stop before it gets to that point.
At least reflecting on Lanzo and Orev gives my brain something to distract itself from the constant barrage of impatience as we wait for the computer programs to find us something useful from the many grotesque faces Alice painted.
Identities are well and good, but if all we have to go on are these paintings?
I’m not negating them, of course. I believe Alice. Even if her proclamation of past abuse was never verbal, all the signs are there. The statements are there. The evidence was there. Absently, I wonder what the doctor that Doc Mark called in to examine her that first time found.
Around three, Fade joins us. The smile he gives me when his eyes meet mine has my stomach swooping, which is still weird. Until recently, I’ve never reacted to him like that before.
Fade has just settled in when Aven reappears. Their sudden figure standing on the table makes Fade jerk back almost violently, which Aven loves. But their attention is on me.
“Look. I finished my crochet cock.”
The next thing I see is that Aven produces a dick on their forehead like they’re a unicorn. I burst out laughing. Fade and Zephyr do too.
“Babe, that’s not where that goes,” Zephyr says.
“Oh, I know, but if it’s tucked away inside your pants, no one sees it. That’s a travesty. Now everyone can see it!”
“Oh god,” Fade mutters, a hand covering his face.
“I can move it around. Look here.” The dick multiplies, and there’s now a mohawk of dicks in a crest from his forehead to the base of his head. Aven shows them off before they’re gone. Now, two stick out of his ears like an arrow going through his head. Then they turn upward so they’re horns.
I haven’t laughed this hard in fucking years. My cheeks hurt. Zephyr has joined us at the table, and he’s almost on the floor with laughter. Fade has stopped trying to fight his amusement too.
“Honestly, I like it on my head the best,” Aven says, and once more, they have a phallic unicorn horn protruding upward from their forehead.
“Okay but what’s it look like when it’s soft? It’s going to lay down your face like an elephant trunk,” Zeph says.
Aven’s head tilts sideways. “Oh. This is only one hard state!”
“Don’t forget. You can get it pierced too,” I point out, and Aven’s face lights up.
If you look closely, you can see images flash through Aven’s eyes.
Many people claim that you can see things in people’s eyes, but this isn’t metaphoric.
It’s like their eyes are little computer screens, and they’re flitting through different websites to educate themselves on what we’re talking about.
“I have much to do,” Aven says and is gone as suddenly as they appeared.
Just as we’re getting ourselves back together, Aven reappears. While they are still wearing their new accessory on their head, their expression is serious. “I found something tangible, and I can’t go there. You have to.”
“Go where?” Zephyr asks.
“To find some answers about Alice.”