Page 62 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
The official explanation for this move is Carl’s love for mountains and snowboarding. I'm so full of shit I would make a fantastic PR executive. Maybe he and I shared a comparable talent for lying, because after hanging on to his fake love all my life, I found out that not only had Carl not informed the cops I was missing, but also offered time off to all the staff at my home, so no one questioned my absence.
Joke’s onhim.
The burlesque dancer was someone he’d met that night, not a girlfriend, so we both commiserated about the masked stranger with dark hair (I made sure to say that several times to implant the fake memory) who might have been the one to hurt my brother. I played the perfectly innocent, inexperienced gay man who got charmed into following the lead of a handsome monster. But maybe that’s who I really am, since I’m protecting Nico even now.
The somber atmosphere, the parade of guests I don’t know, and the endless stream of bite-sized snacks on silver platters is getting all too much, so I walk out of the room and onto a balcony.
From my vantage point, the expanse of the snow covered-forest seems endless, and it reminds me of that week in Nico’s cabin. The conditions there were so far from what I was used to, but even though I had to use a crappy eco-shower, wash dishes, and sweep the floor, I felt I had everything I could ever want when Nico smiled at me. And when he held me at night, the sense of loneliness that accompanied me since my parents died was gone.
I was so… content with everything that the perspective of going back home later tonight and being greeted by empty rooms rather than Nico’s touch is borderline painful. But what’s the alternative? Willingly flying straight into the web of a guy who enjoys killing?
For a moment, I consider looking for love on dating apps, but how could that compare to the way Nico saved me from rape, torture, and murder, then slowly got under my skin with attention and enthusiasm? Maybe that’s what it feels like when a spider crawls into one’s ear at night? Yeah, no, bad comparison, ew.
Nico’s presence felt good, and when I stopped being fearful of him, I craved for him to consume me, until I belonged to him wholly, body and soul.
I shiver, imagining him watching me now from one of the trees close by, and I can’t even describe the sense of peace this gives me. It’s the relief I need during a party filled with strangers Carl never bothered to introduce me to.
“Hey, Blake…” Someone steps onto the balcony behind me, and I turn, all too aware of the journey my body would make if this guy were to push me off here.
But it’s only Mike… or Misha? I’ve been introduced to him in the past by Carl, but I don’t know much about him, other than the fact that he makes my gaydar buzz.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. Carl was such a great guy,” he says the most generic thing he can with a hurt expression on his handsome face.
He looks good in a black suit, I have to give him that, but it’s nothing when compared to the burgundy outfit Nico wore the night we parted. I’m still upset I didn’t get to suck him off while he stood over me, majestic and mysterious in the mask he was wearing. I should have lured him into it in that gas station bathroom.
“Yeah, he will be missed,” I say, responding with an equally cliché phrase and step away from the railing, just in case.
In case of what though? In case Misha/Mike (I’ll go with Misha) was my brother’s secret gay lover, in on the scheme to kill me?
“I’m here, if you ever need someone to talk to. I know you’re not a kid anymore, but everyone needs a shoulder to cry on sometimes.”
More like, Misha needs a free place to crash in Aspen and doesn’t want to miss out on that just because Carl is gone.
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” I say, briefly glancing at the French door behind Misha as I rub my shoulders. “Starting to get chilly out here.”
I was hoping he’d get the hint, but my eyes go wider as he takes off his coat and, without asking, puts it over my shoulders. Which also means he ends up standing much closer to me than I’d expect, given how little we know each other.
Misha smiles. “There. I always really liked you, Blake. You know that, right? I just… didn’t think it was appropriate to let you know before.”
“Let me know what…?” I let my unfinished question hang in the air as the scent of his herby cologne surrounds me from all sides.
Misha places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it with a sense of familiarity that feelswrongon so many levels. Misha might be trying to woo me, and while there isn’t anything inherently wrong with that, guilt bites my insides, making me pull away. This is an uninvited touch. I don’t want his scent on me, and his hands anywhere near me, because his proximity makes me feel as though I’m cheating on Nico.
“I did hope we could take the plane back to Vermont together. Get to know each other. I imagine it must be hard to be alone now,” Misha says and rubs his thumb along the side of my hand, making anxiety simmer at the pit of my stomach.
Abort! Abort!
I step away, sliding out of the reach of his arms. Is this a normal way to act among gay guys, or is he eager to get together with thenaive gay brothernow that Carl isn’t inthe picture? I barely know him, and if I wanted company, it would not be his.
Not dissuaded in the slightest, Misha sighs and glances toward the snow-capped mountains, no doubt thinking he makes a pretty melancholic picture. “Carl talked about you a lot. It really is a shame that we often only realize who and what’s really important when Death knocks on the door.”
My thoughts were already with Nico, but when Misha said that pretentious sentence, the missing puzzle pieces of my mind slotted into place, leaving me with a sense of purposeful contentment.
Maybe the sentiment Misha expressed wasn’t really so pretentious after all?
Idowant company, but not Misha’s, nor any other handsome stranger’s. There’s already someone who’s burrowed deep in my chest and I can’t get him out of there no matter how desperately I try to convince myself he and I can’t work as a couple.
Because wedid.
