Page 100 of Strange Lad

Vapors are green.

Shrouds of shame and forgotten dreams.

Long-lived fantasy. Harboring my deepest sins, free me.

Nothing, and no one can stop it now.

This engine roaring, this highway open.

Forsake it all, I take my stand.

Walking hand in hand with a strange lad.

Every lyric voices a piece of our secret while hinting at the depths of his emotions. I fall into a trance as I listen, my heart racing. It’s not just about our relationship, either. It’s about both of us and our journey. I’m sure Phoenix realizes that now, he has to. When the song ends, I return the phone to my sister, knowingI need to do something to help rebuild the bridge between Jorge and Phoenix.

I’ve spent so long lingering in estrangement that I’m used to it. Jorge hasn’t. It’s fucking killing him to have Phoenix ice him out. And it’s all because of me—because of myselfishness.There’s also the new epiphany swirling around in my brain that whispers and pokes, reminding me that Phoenix left me due to my actions.

“What are you gonna tell Mom and Dad?” Nyx asks. "Or Ver and Damien?"

I rub my face, dread crippling me. “I’m not sure,” I mumble.

“They don’t have to know, Oli. Sure, it’d help them to understand everything that’s happened. But you don’tneedto.”

“I know.”

She eyes me carefully before leaning her head against my shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”

Resting my head on top of hers, I sigh deeply. “Do you think it’d matter? Knowing all of that.”

“I think it’ll break their hearts, but in a good way.”

“That makes no sense,” I say through a forced chuckle.

Shrugging, she links her arm with mine. “No one ever wants to face terrible things, especially concerning people they love. I’d imagine it’s worse with your own kids. Mom blames herself, you know? She thinks she did something that made you…you know.”

“And Dad hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she defends. “I think he’s disappointed and maybe confused. This whole time we thought he was kind of homophobic, but he told Phoenix he doesn’t care that he’s gay—just that he’s got shit taste in men.”

“No shit?”

“Yes, shit. Mom caught a bat in her mouth with how wide that bad boy was hanging open.” She giggles, nuzzling me. “It’ll be okay. One way or another.”

“If you say so.”

Eli: He still needs time with Jorge.

Crying a lot. And really down.

I’m not great at this stuff, so it’s been hit or miss whenever we talk.

Makes sense. Phoenix doesn’t get over things easily—it must run in the family. I quickly write back, saying thanks for trying and leaving it be. Not that I wasn’t hoping for a better update because this is my brother we’re talking about. It’s strange that I even care when that part of me has been sealed shut for so long. Sliding my phone back in the pocket of my jumpsuit, I get back to work.

If I don’t want to keep leaning on my parents for money, I need to get my credentials so I can do this full-time. Working with my hands seems to be a good thing for me. It keeps me distracted and expels some energy that's constantly buzzing under my skin. I know cars and bikes pretty well due to my dad and Damien. Staying in this line of work makes sense, I suppose. Though, it doesn’t feel as satisfying as I’d hoped.

It’s not that hard to guess why.

Last night, I stayed up way too late to play my guitar. Plucking the strings and gliding my hand over the fretboard came naturally to me, as it always has, like I never stopped. I printedout the tab sheet for Isolated earlier, knowing most of it by heart, but it’d be good to have the refresher.

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