Chapter 40
Great Hall of Bad Art
Fabien wore a green plaid work shirt opened up with a white Nuklear Intoxikation shirt underneath, jeans, and flip-flops. Craig was on the couch watching the game. Gus sat beside him and wore a blue sweater and dark blue pajama pants with Craig’s boot to his face, inhaling it. Craig looked over to Gus and his fury soared.
Craig: “...Is that my fucking boot, cunt?!”
He rasped.
Gus: “Yup! It’s aroma therapy. These boots are STIIIIIIIINKY!”
He sighed happily.
Craig: “Gimme those!”
He huffed, snatching them off of him.
The doorbell rang. Fabien went to get it and it was the E-Z delivery truck driver. He smiled at him and thanked him for the delivery. Fabien came in with three long boxes and one small box.
Fabien: “Okay, Craig, time for the footstink to go. I got this for you.”
He used a knife to cut the box open and held up a bottle of “Funny Feet” foot deodorizers in bubblegum scent.
Fabien: “These are for your feet. They stink.”
He snorted. Craig’s jaw dropped.
Craig: “The fuck is THAT?!”
He sneered at the pink and cyan packaging with the Laughing Feet cartoon on it.
Fabien: “It’s foot deodorizer for your feet.”
He replied evenly.
Craig: “What?! Are you trying to say my feet stink or somethin’?!”
He quivered and looked out the window over to their neighbor.
Craig: “The stink is comin’ from over THERE!”
He huffed, pointing at Jaclyn’s silhouette in the window.
Fabien: “Uh, no, Craig, the calls are coming from inside the house.”
He said dryly.
Craig: “WHAT?!”
Gus: “No, he doesn’t need that. I love sniffing his cheesy feet when you two sleep.”
He pouted.
Craig: “...YOU WHAT?!”
Fabien glanced at Jaclyn’s silhouette.
Fabien: “The other thing is… I want you to install these blackout blinds in our bedroom window and Gus’s.”
He handed Craig the long boxes.
Craig: “Me?! Why do I gotta do it?!”
He pouted. Fabien gaped at him.
Fabien: “Do you expect me to do it?”
He asked sharply. Craig shrunk down and mumbled.
Craig: “All right, I’ll do it.”
He pouted, entering the bedroom.
Fabien smirked, followed him, and caressed his muscles.
Fabien: “Thanks, Craig.”
He said softly and kissed his cheek.
Fabien: “I will start on your spicy wings.”
He patted his shoulder. Craig perked up and beamed, kissing him back.
Craig: “Wicked sick!”
He grinned, getting started on the work.
Fabien: “With these, the light won’t get in our rooms so we can sleep better.”
He nodded and left him to do his work.
~
At Tristan’s mansion, Victor made a huge batch of buffalo wings and tacos for Celeste. Victor brought them to her while she, Deimos, and Tristan were in the living room watching wrestling. Tristan wore a purple dress shirt with brush stroke patterns and jeans. Deimos wore a Kreator t-shirt and torn jeans. Victor wore a light blue dress shirt, dark blue waistcoat and bell bottoms. Celeste wore a Pantera tank top, a jean skirt, and dark purple tights.
Celeste: “Thanks, Vic! This is the best! I got beer, tacos, wings, and I’m snuggling feet!”
She nuzzled herself between Tristan’s and Victor’s feet. Victor cupped his mouth and laughed. Tristan heaved a deep sigh and rested his head on Deimos’ shoulder. Deimos kissed Tristan’s head.
Tristan: “What is the occasion, Papa?”
Victor: “Huh?”
He looked at his son with confusion. Tristan drew a long breath and glanced at the array of food.
Tristan: “I mean…, you made a ton of wings, tacos, and bought imported beer.”
He held up a bottle of Corona Extra. Victor raised his eyebrows.
Victor: “Oh, for her! It’s for this wrestling she loves to watch and she has been tickling my feet! I love it! Every time she does it, I give her a dollar but it doesn’t seem like enough, so I did all this!”
He laughed. Tristan gaped at him and flicked his gaze to Celeste snuggling his and his father’s feet.
Tristan: “...Is Ivy okay with this?”
Victor: “I don’t see why not!”
Tristan sighed. Translation: I didn’t tell her and assume she would be, he thought. They turned around to see Ivy with tears in her eyes as she had just heard their conversation and gazed upon Celeste’s hands all over Victor’s feet.
Ivy: “NO!”
She cried. Tristan heaved a deep sigh. I knew it, he thought.
Victor: “Oh, what’s wrong, Ivy? Did Jaclyn say something to hurt you?”
He knit his eyebrows. Tristan heaved another sigh and rolled his eyes.
Deimos: “Hey, Celeste, can we steal these as you steal our food or is that just reserved for you?”
He asked dryly. She gaped at him owlishly.
Ivy: “No, Victor! You did it again! You didn’t consider my feelings…”
She embraced herself. Victor’s bottom lip trembled.
Victor: “What did I do?”
He sobbed. Tristan gaped at his father. Do you have to ask, Papa? He wondered.
Celeste: “He made me all this stuff to repay me for tickling his feet! Why aren’t you doing that Tristan?”
She asked him.
Tristan: “Because I can’t make anything, unless it comes from a package. I didn’t ask you to tickle my feet, unlike Papa. And stealing our food is a form of payment.”
He said firmly.
Ivy: “...I-I can’t believe you, Victor!”
She cried and stormed off.
Victor: “What did I do?!”
He sobbed into his hands.
Celeste: “I think she’s mad you didn’t make anything for her.”
She said evenly.
Tristan: “Makes perfect sense, Celeste.”
He said dryly.
Celeste: “Maybe you should make her something from a package.”
Tristan rolled his eyes.
Deimos: “That would fix everything.”
He said dryly.
Tristan: “Papa, you should talk to her.”
He suggested. Victor sobbed and wiped his eyes.
Victor: “Okay…”
Victor left Celeste, Tristan, and Deimos to go to Ivy. Celeste knit her eyebrows as Victor left.
Celeste: “Why is she like this?!”
She huffed and folded her arms in front of her chest.
~
Victor went up to their bedroom to see Ivy.
Victor: “Ivy, what is wrong? Are you upset because I didn’t make you anything? I didn’t think you liked spicy food or imported beer.”
He sighed. Ivy gaped at him and her hurt grew when he didn’t see what he did was wrong.
Ivy: “Are you serious right now? How could you think it’s okay to get intimate with someone else?! I thought we were exclusive?!”
She sobbed.
Victor: “I’m NOT getting intimate! She is tickling my feet for a dollar! I never took my clothes off for her!”
He bawled and removed his glasses as he wept.
Ivy: “That’s what makes it worse! You’re paying her for this!”
She sobbed.
Ivy: “You didn’t even tell me or ask me if this was okay!”
She cried into her hands.
Victor: “What can a dollar get someone? A bag of chips and maybe a candy bar! Or a comic book!”
He cried and stomped his feet. Ivy rubbed her temples.
Ivy: “You’re completely missing the point…”
She cried.
Victor: “She does it to Tristan and Deimos is right there!”
He bawled.
Ivy: “So what? I’m not Deimos! Just because he’s fine with this, doesn’t mean I am!”
She added.
Victor: “Deimos doesn’t get angry with me all the time!”
He flopped on his bed and cried.
Ivy: “Why are you trying to justify this? Do you want her or something?!”
She cried.
Victor: “NO! I SAID I DIDN’T SLEEP WITH HER OR BARE MY SOUL AND BODY TO HER! It’s never enough for you! You’re always mad at me!”
He bawled and kicked his feet.
Ivy: “THAT’S NOT THE POINT! I’m not comfortable with this and instead of taking my feelings into consideration, you get defensive and blame me!”
She cried.
Victor sat up bawling and choking. He ran to the bathroom to get sick. He was crying as he was puking.
~
Fabien and Craig were at the dinner table listening to Ivy’s and Victor’s argument over the baby monitor. Fabien was laughing hysterically and in tears. Craig slapped his knees and wheezed.
Craig: “Whiny lil’ bitches, ey?”
He cackled.
Fabien: “GOD! Both of them are! I am so glad I planted the baby monitors in their room, too!”
~
Celeste, Tristan, and Deimos continued to watch wrestling. Oliver and Francis snuck and stole some nachos and wings.
Tristan: “I fail to see the point of this sport or show.”
Celeste: “It’s thrilling, Tristan! You do cool moves and someone wins!”
Deimos: “I’m on the edge of my seat.”
He said dryly.
Victor came down in tears.
Victor: “Well, Deimos, I need you to heal my sickness or call an ambulance!”
He sobbed.
Deimos: “You can heal yourself.”
Victor: “It’s a SICKNESS! I am broken-hearted!”
He bawled. Celeste shifted her eyes and looked away.
Tristan: “Why didn’t you talk to Ivy, Papa?”
Victor: “I wasn’t doing anything malicious, Tristan! I can’t do anything without her getting angry with me! It’s always my fault!”
He threw himself on the couch and cried. Celeste looked down at Francis and gave him her taco. She wasn’t hungry anymore. She hugged her legs.
Deimos: “Yes, it’s news that Ivy doesn’t blow shit way out of proportion.”
He said dryly. Tristan agreed with Deimos but also understood why Ivy was upset and felt she and his father should have had this conversation, he thought. He could barely hear himself think over his father sobbing loudly and this wrestling show.
~
That night, Celeste lay in the hammock by the fire alone in her thoughts. She looked up at the stars and didn’t know why she felt this way. Everything was good until Ivy showed up to bitch and complain, she thought as she held Francis in her arms.
She heard someone clear their throat and turned her head to see Victor standing there. He wore a red plaid flannel robe and red pajama bottoms. He smiled at her and sat on the chairs.
Victor: “I think I cried myself to sleep.”
He laughed and bowed his head.
Victor: “I didn’t think I did anything wrong. Deimos is not upset with me and he’s always mad about something.”
He said as his bottom lip trembled.
Victor: “Ivy was upset with me about that cake at the Christmas ball. That hurt me that she would think I would do that. That was Lucy and Lazaros.”
He sighed.
Celeste: “Does it matter? It was a perfect form of Princess Ivy.”
She huffed. Victor forced a smile. I loved it but if I told Ivy, she would get mad, he thought.
Victor: “Oh, I wanted to give you something. I will do it while Ivy isn’t here. I don’t want her to get mad at me again.”
He rose and went inside. He came back outside with a canvas book, a box of crayons, a paint set, and some oil pastels. Her eyes lit up at what he gave her. She snatched it from his hands.
Victor: “I saw the t-shirt you made for my son and you should always create! Never stop doing what you love and I implore you to do more. I would love to see what you make with those.”
He smiled warmly at her.
Victor: “It’s cold out. Come on in and use the spare bedroom. I’ll make you some tea.”
He nodded for her to come in.
Celeste: “I don’t like tea. I’m not Tristan!”
She said as she followed him. Victor laughed.
Victor: “I know but this tea will help you sleep.”
He said gently.
She followed him into the kitchen and sat on the island as she watched him prepare the tea. Victor filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove to boil. He placed the teabags into the mugs.
Celeste: “If it makes you sleep, why does Tristan find it hard to sleep?”
Victor paused and heaved a deep sigh.
Victor: “He has insomnia. It’s a condition as a result of his CPTSD.”
He said tersely. She bowed her head.
Victor: “I try to help my son. Ivy doesn’t understand that Tristan will always be my son, no matter how old he gets and a parent should do anything for their child.”
He sighed sadly. Celeste looked away and couldn’t relate as her parents gave her away. Victor forced a smile. The tea kettle whistled. Victor went to pour the boiling water into the mugs and went to sit with her as the tea steeped. Victor stared down at his reflection in the tea.
Victor: “Do you take milk, sugar, or cream in your tea?”
He asked. She shook her head.
Celeste: “Coffee makes me tired.”
Victor laughed.
Victor: “This is tea that makes you sleep!”
He corrected her gently.
Celeste: “Then I guess not.”
Victor laughed again.
Victor: “Neither does Tristan. He loves tea.”
He held onto his mug.
Celeste: “How come Tristan hates coffee?”
She asked and took a sip. It was bland. Tristan is weird but hot, a hot weirdo, she thought.
Victor: “He thinks it’s disgusting. Interestingly, his mother also thought that… Don’t tell Tristan I said this, please.”
He said, giving her a beseeching look.
Celeste: “I don’t think liking or hating something makes you like someone, though. I love fish but I am not like Ivy.”
She stated and scratched her head. Victor smiled and laughed.
Celeste: “So why do you love having your feet tickled?”
She finally asked. Victor raised his eyebrows.
Victor: “Well…”
He folded his hands under his chin.
Victor: “I love the sensation and how it makes me feel. I love how it’s a form of torture but not a torture that traumatizes you. In other words, you can recover from it. Also, laughter is the best medicine! I also see it as a way of being pampered.”
He smiled tightly.
Celeste: “Yeah, Tristan said something similar about it being torturous but not painful!”
Victor smiled.
Celeste: “I should ask him why he loves being tickled!”
Victor chuckled and felt his sadness and anger dissipate.
~
Tristan was in his bedroom reading a book. He wore his silver silk pajamas. Deimos slept by him in his purple silk pajamas. The door swung open and Celeste came in. Tristan raised his eyebrows.
Tristan: “People typically knock before they enter!”
He flared hotly.
Celeste: “Tristan, it’s urgent!”
Tristan slid his bookmark in and closed his book.
Tristan: “With you, it could be an actual emergency or some silly question you have wracking your brain.”
He said dryly.
She pounced on his bed like a cat.
Celeste: “Why do you love your feet being tickled?”
Tristan drew a breath. Why am I not surprised she asked this? He thought.
Tristan: “It’s mostly the sensation and I love receiving it from a tickler who knows not to overstep my boundaries. It’s a torture one can easily recover from in most cases. When Deimos tickles me, it’s his way of torturing me but not hurting me and the aftercare is best.”
He smiled and looked at him.
Celeste: “How come you can’t sleep? Like ever?”
She gaped at him owlishly.
Tristan: “Sometimes you ask inane questions and others are thought-provoking. Intriguing.”
He placed his book on his nightstand and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He put his glasses back on.
Tristan: “So many thoughts run through my head as I lay in bed. I’m drowning in a sea of emotions. Thinking of my regrets. Thinking if I should have done things differently. I think about why I do certain things. I don’t understand my own feelings and almost sabotaged what Deimos and I have because of this. Why did I ever pursue Ivy? Is fate real or do things happen because you’re a victim of circumstance? Why should one tell the truth if telling a lie would benefit him?”
He rambled on and felt a sense of dread. He snapped out of his daze and gaped at Celeste who stared at him.
Celeste: “Is a hot dog a sandwich?”
Tristan shifted his eyes.
Tristan: “...What does that have to do with what I said?”
He asked nervously and it clicked. That is a philosophical question, he thought. Maybe she does understand what I am saying, he mused.
Tristan: “I guess it would be. It’s meat between a bun.”
He smiled a bit.
Celeste: “Does Jaclyn know her feet stink?”
Tristan laughed.
Tristan: “Good question. I think she’s nose blind to her stench.”
Celeste: “Your dad thinks I should make some art. Do you think I should?”
Tristan hugged his legs and smiled. He nodded.
Tristan: “Absolutely! I think it’s wonderful to create artwork and something from the heart and soul. Create something that speaks to you. Perhaps, it will resonate with the viewers.”
He said gently. She smiled tightly and dashed out of his bedroom. Tristan had a knowing smile of what she would create.
~
That morning, Victor was in the kitchen making breakfast. Ivy was at the table having some yogurt with coffee. Deimos and Tristan came down and Victor dished up their breakfasts, which was sausage rounds, scrambled eggs, French toast and bacon. He poured a cup of coffee for Deimos and a cup of lemon ginger tea for Tristan. Deimos read the newspaper as he sipped his coffee.
Celeste came down and Victor smiled at her.
Victor: “I made you something special.”
He handed her a plate of toast with honey spread on it, eggs sunny side up for the eyes a sausage round for the nose, and bacon strips for the money.
Victor: “There you go, honey!”
Ivy gaped at him.
Ivy: “...Honey?!”
She glared at him, shooting up from her seat.
Ivy: “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
She cried at Victor.
Victor: “Nothing, I was making her a cute breakfast! You said you wanted yogurt, so do you want me to make you one like hers or Tristan’s?”
He asked and swallowed. Tristan flicked his gaze up on his father.
Ivy: “You’re addressing someone else with pet names and making them a ‘cute breakfast’ and you see NOTHING wrong with that?!”
She gaped at him. Victor removed his glasses to wipe his eyes. Deimos didn’t remove his eyes from the newspaper. Another day, another typical Ivy flip-out, he thought.
Celeste: “Do you want to see my artwork I made with the stuff you gave me?”
She interjected. Victor looked at her and sheepishly nodded.
Victor: “Okay.”
He said in a tiny voice. Ivy gaped at Victor.
Ivy: “...What stuff?! You’re giving her gifts now, too?!”
She cried at him.
Celeste went to get it and came out with a large sheet of paper. It was a crudely drawn picture of Ivy with a huge head looking down at a small Victor and baring her teeth. The background was rainbow. It was colored in crayon with streaks and colors outside the lines. Ivy said, “MY FUCKING CAKE! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”
Tristan covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. Deimos’ dour expression brightened and he laughed at it.
Deimos: “It’s an accurate rendition of Ivy!”
Tristan looked away to hide his laughter. Ivy’s face trembled all over with hurt.
Ivy: “...Wh-Why? Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you?!”
She cried at Celeste.
Celeste: “You’re always mad about something. That cake Ashley and Lazaros did for you was nice and you were raging about it.”
She drawled. Tristan cleared his throat. Deimos rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue.
Ivy: “I’m not always mad about something. It wasn’t a nice gesture! Lazaros and Lucy knew damn well what they were doing and you know nothing about this, so why don’t you just stay out of my business and leave me alone?!”
She cried at her.
Celeste: “But you’re getting mad now. You wanted yogurt.”
She said evenly.
Ivy: “What? This has nothing to do with that? I’m mad because Victor keeps flirting with you and getting intimate with you and he acts like I’m crazy for being upset about that! He bought you gifts, calls you honey and pays you to tickle him?! And all you do is mock me?! How can I NOT be mad about that?!”
She fired back at her.
Victor: “I am NOT flirting!”
He cried.
Ivy: “You called her ‘honey’ and made her a ‘cute’ breakfast! How is paying someone to tickle you NOT flirting?!”
She fired back at him.
Victor: “I didn’t think I was doing that!”
He bawled.
Victor: “I would have made you a cute breakfast but you never want it from me!”
He cried into his hands.
Ivy: “What do you mean I never want it from you?”
She pressed.
Victor: “I said I was making breakfast and you just want yogurt from a store! Never anything I make!”
He cried and stomped his feet. Deimos drew a long breath. God, I don’t miss this, he thought.
Ivy: “If you had a problem with that, why didn’t you tell me?! It’s not a case of me not wanting what you made. I just want something light to eat first thing in the morning is all.”
She countered.
Victor: “I CAN’T WIN!”
He sobbed on the floor and started to choke and vomit. Tristan tensed up and embraced himself, remembering the fights his parents had. He froze and couldn’t say anything. Deimos knit his eyebrows and held him close. Ivy’s demeanor shifted when she saw Victor on the floor in peril.
Ivy: “Victor?! What’s going on?!”
She rushed over to him.
Deimos: “I think you should leave the kitchen, Ivy.”
He said firmly as he held Tristan close.
Deimos: “They’re having a panic attack because of YOU!”
He snapped and held Tristan close. Ivy recoiled.
Ivy: “...Wh-What do you mean they’re having a panic attack because of me? What’s going on?”
She cried, tending to Victor.
Ivy: “Victor, what’s wrong?!”
She cried.
Oliver approached Victor as he was choking and wheezing. He just rested his head on his chest to try to comfort him. Victor’s breathing starting to slow down and he put his hand on Oliver’s head. Celeste stared down at her breakfast and didn’t feel hungry anymore.
Deimos: “You know damn well what you were doing. When someone tells you to leave, you leave. You caused this. You know why this happened.”
He sneered at her and Tristan rested his head on Deimos’ chest. Ivy’s bottom lip tremble.
Ivy: “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I’ll leave you all alone!”
She cried and left. Tristan closed his eyes and sighed. He wrapped his arms around Deimos. Deimos looked down at him and kissed his head.
~
At Fabien’s house, Fabien came into the kitchen to show an ad with Craig smiling and folding his arms.
Fabien: “Look, Craig, you’re a spokesman for Funny Feet!”
He snickered.
Craig: “WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!”
He rasped.
Fabien: “Well, you’re saying here, ‘OI, thanks to Funny Feet, my shaggin’ in the bedroom is saved! My man, Fab, couldn’t breathe cos of my footstink but Funny Feat magic foot powder saved that! Cheers, Funny Feet!’ ”
He read it aloud and laughed. Craig pouted and his shoulders dropped.
Craig: “Great, now you’re makin’ fun of me!”
He whined and folded his arms across his chest.
Fabien: “Well, your feet DO stink, Craig!”
He laughed.
Craig: “No they don’t! Why’d you do this, Fab?! Now everyone’s gonna think I got stinky feet!”
He pouted.
Fabien: “I didn’t do this!”
He threw the ad at Craig. Craig recoiled and yelped.
Craig: “What?! If you didn’t do this then who did?! You’re the only person that knows about my feet!”
Fabien glared at him.
Fabien: “Oh, are you forgetting you have a sister?!”
He hissed.
Craig: “...Makayla?!”
He clenched up. Fabien pursed his lips.
Fabien: “She’s getting even because you ridiculed that fat genderless blob.”
He sighed. Craig scoffed loudly.
Craig: “Oh yeah?! We’ll see how they like bein’ the spokesperson for Voyage Burger!”
He smirked. Fabien smirked back at him.
Fabien: “I have a better idea—I am writing a book called ‘Fat Cats in Party Hats’ and I know you have pictures of her and that fat… thing whatever it is. They will be featured in that.”
He folded his arms and chuckled. Craig looked confused.
Craig: “Wait, you wanna make a book about cats in party hats ‘n put that fat drongo in a book about cats? Wouldn’t that make em’ happy? I thought you wanted to do somethin’ wicked sick?”
He looked dumbfounded.
Fabien: “No, genius. I take pictures of Makayla and Fatley and write captions to mock them. It has precious little to do with cats.”
He rolled his eyes. The wires finally clicked as a large smirk spread across Craig’s lips.
Craig: “Fuck yeah, let’s do this!”
He snickered.
Fabien: “I can’t wait.”
He wrapped his arms around Craig and kissed him. Craig kissed him back.
~
A few days later, Celeste, Deimos, Tristan, Victor, and Ivy were in the Great Hall of Bad Art, an art museum in Papamos showcasing artwork too terrible to be ignored. It was a few blocks away from the Katsaros Hacienda and the Trémaux Château.
Celeste smiled widely. Victor looked uneasy. Deimos was unsurprised. Tristan sighed. Ivy’s heart sank when she saw the piece on the wall.
Ivy: “You entered it in a MUSEUM?!”
She cried.
Celeste: “Yeah!”
Victor: “You’re not upset that your piece is here?”
He asked as he nodded to Celeste’s Ivy and Victor piece. He scratched his head.
Celeste: “Why would I be? It’s in a museum and speaking to others as Tristan said!”
She chirped. Tristan drew a long breath.
Tristan: “I’m… sure…”
Ivy: “How is this speaking to others?”
She threw her arms up.
Celeste: “You’re mad at Victor because of the cake!”
She replied.
Ivy: “I’m not mad at him because of that! We discussed that and worked through that!”
She countered.
Deimos: “At least you’re not upset about this. Most people would flip their shit if their art was in this museum.”
He shrugged.
Ivy: “It’s right where it belongs.”
She said bitterly.
Celeste: “Thanks, everyone!”
She spread her arms out.
They heard giggling and snickering and turned to see Ashley gawking at Celeste’s painting.
Ashley: “Oh wow! This is a masterpiece! I love the pretty rainbows and how it’s like real life! Why is it in the bad museum when it’s not even bad though?!”
They complimented Celeste. Lazaros followed after with a big smile.
Lazaros: “Wow, a piece of Ivy that is surprisingly accurate? Color me surprised!”
He chuckled. Ivy furrowed her eyebrows.
Celeste: “Thanks, guys!”
Victor bowed his head and sighed.
Ivy: “Great. You came all this way to mock me with your lap dog, Lazaros?”
She glared at him. Ashley looked offended.
Ashley: “I’m not a lap dog! I’m a lap cat!”
They corrected her, gesturing to their cat-like features.
Lazaros: “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.”
He shot back with a tight smirk.
Lazaros: “We worked so hard on that cake for you to make a scene. Fortunately, Jaclyn upstaged you so hardly any focus was on you… Your home life mustn’t be that great.”
He said loftily and nodded to the portrait.
Ivy: “Don’t give me that, Lazaros. You knew exactly what you were doing!”
She fired back at him. Ashley shed a tear.
Ashley: “I poured so much radiant sunshine energy and good vibes into that cake for you… We stayed up all night making that cake beautiful and delicious for you and you never even tried it or thanked us!”
They sobbed onto Lazaros.
Lazaros consoled Ashley and turned to Ivy. Ivy recoiled and sighed.
Ivy: “Look, I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t appreciate YOUR hard work, but you don’t understand what’s going on.”
Ashley: “What don’t I understand?! I understand crystal clear that you don’t like beautiful and tasty cakes! How could you hate cake?!”
They cried with outrage.
Lazaros: “Nice to see nothing has changed since Typhoon Ivy stormed into my brother’s life.”
He added. Ivy glared at Lazaros.
Ivy: “Like you have any room to talk, Lazaros. You’re the biggest typhoon in his life.”
She countered. Lazaros drew back and bared his teeth at her. Deimos shrugged. She’s not wrong, he thought.
Celeste: “Yeah, Victor made a ‘face breakfast’ for me and she wanted some yogurt. She got mad at him for that.”
She drawled.
Lazaros: “A ‘face breakfast’? Do you mean a funny face breakfast like sunnyside up eggs for eyes, bacon for mouth, and so on?”
She nodded. Ashley chuckled. Lazaros smiled widely now that he had ammo.
Lazaros: “You got jealous about him making a breakfast for a womanchild. How typical of you, Ivy!”
He scoffed. Ashley tilted their head and looked confused.
Ashley: “Huh? Why would you get upset over a happy smiley face?”
They scratched their head.
Ivy turned to Celeste.
Ivy: “Why would you tell them that?”
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
Celeste: “It slipped out!”
Deimos removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose and sighed. Tristan patted his shoulder. Deimos put them back on.
Deimos: “Monica made those breakfasts for Lazaros and me when we were little boys. Victor made them for Tristan when he was a little boy. It’s something you do for children… or emotionally stunted spoiled adults.”
He said flatly. Tristan nodded, remembering how his father made him those breakfasts before he went to school.
Ivy drew a breath.
Ivy: “I’m NOT mad at him for making her a smiley face breakfast! I’m mad at him for paying her to tickle him and calling her honey!”
She blurted. Victor embraced himself. Ashley knit their eyebrows when they noted Victor’s sad expression and patted his back. Victor smiled at them and felt warmer.
Ashley: “Uhh, he paid her to tickle him? Do you not tickle him or something?”
They tilted their head.
Lazaros: “Well, seeing how you are, I don’t blame him. Look at how you reacted to the cake and how you treated my brother. I am not surprised.”
Ivy: “I apologized to him about the cake… What about how you treat your brother?”
She sighed, embracing herself.
Ashley: “...Well, he’s still hurt about it and you didn’t apologize to us…”
They mumbled. Victor heard Ashley and nodded. Ivy sighed and turned to Ashley.
Ivy: “I’m sorry for not appreciating your hard work on that cake, you did a great job…”
She said only to Ashley.
Ashley: “Uhh, Laz and I both worked on this together…”
Lazaros sneered at her.
Lazaros: “Thanks for not apologizing to me. I wouldn’t accept it anyway.”
He snapped. Ashley comforted him.
Ashley: “Donut worry, Laz, I appreciate your hard work and delicious baking!”
They assured him, placing their hand on his shoulder. Lazaros patted Ashley and smiled at them.
Lazaros: “Thank you, Ashley, you have good taste.”
Tristan: “Ivy, with all due respect, I don’t believe my Papa is doing this with malicious intentions. He just awoke from a coma and is into a different decade with very different beliefs. You need to have this discussion with him… and be patient. He is a victim of abuse just as much as I am.”
He said firmly. Deimos nodded in agreement. Ivy paused and bowed her head, drawing a long breath. She then swung her gaze over to Victor.
Ivy: “I’m sorry… you’re right. I let my triggered emotions get the better of me because Larry always cheated on me and let his friends mock me. Victor is not like that though… He just isn’t adjusted to the customs of our time.”
She pursed her lips. Victor heaved a deep sigh.
Ivy: “I’m sorry, Victor…”
She knelt to him.
Victor: “I’m sorry… I’m not like Larry. What I feel is real!”
He said with tears in his eyes.
Victor: “I told you I bared my soul and body to you… I told you things I never disclosed to anyone else.”
He looked away.
Ivy: “I’m sorry…”
She reached out to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. Victor sighed and rose.
Victor: “I’m okay, really.”
He embraced himself and looked at Tristan.
Victor: “I want to go home.”
Tristan nodded and drew a long breath.
Tristan: “Of course, Papa.”
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