Tammy sets an investigative operation to discover once and for all if the rumours of Felipe being gay are true. She organizes a sleepover with the girlfriends. Juliana is in front of the computer.
"Alright, the first phase of The Pink Elephant is to analyze his likes on social media. Tammy, are you prepared?" Juliana asks, smiling.
"Born prepared." Tammy answers.
The other two girls giggle.
"This is no time for laughter, girls. This is my life we're talking about." Tammy says.
"Oh, come on, Tammy. He's gay!" Thais says.
"Hold it, Thais. Let's let the investigation speak for itself." Tammy says.
"His best friend is pink, for God's sake." Carol, the other friend, points out.
"So what? You're dumb, and I'm your friend." Tammy says, laughing.
"Hey! Not cool."
"Carol, we had a pair-work exam together. I got an A and you got a D." Tammy remembers.
"Well, we have our differences." Carol states.
"Which proves my point. Enough. Continue, Juliana." Tammy orders.
"Okay. Let's check the movies."
Juliana types in the computer and analyzes the screen.
"First movie... 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show'... Ha!"
"Why are you laughing?" Tammy asks.
"You seriously don't know 'Rocky Horror?'"
"Should I? What is it about?"
Juliana gasps for air.
"It's a musical about an alien transvestite." Juliana explains.
Tammy nods her head.
"Okay. Okay. This doesn't mean anything. Just that he's progressive." Tammy says, in clear denial.
"Tammy..." Juliana starts.
"Move on, Juliana!"
"Alright, alright." Juliana moves the mouse around.
"Let's see..." and then she clicks.
"'Hedwig and The Angry Inch'. What kind of a title is that?" she says, frowning.
"What's an angry inch?" Thais asks.
"Just google it already." Tammy says.
"Alright, calm down..." Juliana says, clicking around. "Okay, here we have it... '"A gender-queer punk-rock singer..." - (Juliana laughs) - ..."from East Berlin tours the U.S. with her band as she tells her life story and follows the former lover/band-mate who stole her songs.'"
The other girls laugh along Juliana but Tammy stays serious.
"Stop laughing." She says.
"Tammy..." Juliana starts but is interrupted.
"He's progressive, we already knew that. Move on."
"Alright, Alright. Next one is... 'The Way We Were.'"
Juliana clicks and starts reading.
"'Barbra Streisand plays...'"
All the girls start laughing.
"Shit." Tammy says.
--
"Get out of my classroom." Rodolpho said to a girl who had just called Nilo a fag freak. The girl, gasping with arrogance, deserves no name in this tale. With that in mind, know that Nilo was by far offended by that. He enjoyed being a freak, and boy was he glad he didn't have to explain that he was indeed gay now that he was fully grown and voiced his political opinions in the somewhat conservative schools. Students knew better than to fuck around in Rodolpho's class, but he liked this last factor we talked about Nilo.
Nilo wasn't a sexually active person. After the experience with H. he had only had one encounter in the school bathroom after a P.E. class with a classmate. It was only a blowjob, and it happened so quickly that he didn't really accounted for as sex. It never happened again, because the boy was pretty closeted. Nilo didn't have this problem, being raised by artists, but never had to come out of the closet to his parents. They only worried about his mental problems, and never considered asking him about his personal issues. It was always about his mental well being, his response to the medicines, the content he was viewing online and these sorts of things. He could be 19, but they still treated him like he was 7. Like a burden. He needed to get away.
A new project with his father. That's why Hubble was there one more time. So he would be staying for a while. Fuck. Nilo stayed in his room for the first week, but this situation wouldn't endure. Nilo could feel trapped, claustrophobic. He really didn't know how to hide his contempt against his uncle, and this could be too transparent for his parents not to suspect of something, even though they were usually blind to his true feelings and easy to handle psychologically. It was like they were afraid of breaking him.
That night there was supposed to be a gathering of artists in the project. Nilo hated crowds, and his parents asked him to participate for just a bit. He was like a trophy to be showcased. Hey, look at this, we have raised an autistic son with success. It was pathetic. And this meant interacting with Hubble, for sure. At least his parents let him smoke weed, because they saw a study once that said it helped an autistic mind. Thank God for studies. They could easily find one that said otherwise, Nilo knew, but the Gods were on his side.
It wasn't long until a joint was passed around the people and got into Nilo's hand. It was from Hubble, who finally got a chance to exchange words with him.
"So, how are you doing? I feel like I never see you." he said. The nerve on the guy.
"I'm busy. Focused on my work."
"What work? You're writing?" H. asked.
"Yeah. Who told you?
"It was just a hunch. It runs in the family, doesn't it? And you always said you wanted to be an artist. Always read so much. You never said anything about my last book." he said, probably fishing for compliments.
"I didn't read it. As I said, I'm busy with my own stuff." Nilo said, smoking more as the chatter around them got louder and louder.
"Your parents say you don't wanna go to college. Writing classes are important for a young writer."
"I take writing classes online. I've done about 10 Masterclasses already."
"Oh, wow. Your parents didn't tell me that."
"They don't know."
"How come? Don't they have to pay it?"
"Are you kidding? I download it."
"Oh, I see. Piracy doesn't bother your generation. Wait until people download your book for free."
"I wouldn't care. I'd feel good if people would read me. You do it for the money?"
"You ask me as if it was a sin. I need to make a living, don't I? Don't romanticize it too much or you'll starve."
Nilo laughs at that. Such a simplistic notion.
"I'll never starve. I'm rich. So are you."
"I don't know where you got that notion. Neither of us are rich. Just because you live in a big ranch and eats meat everyday doesn't mean you're at the top. Things change drastically sometimes, you gotta be prepared. What if you your parents die?"
"Then I'll cash their death pensions. Furthermore, I can get a pension from the government because of my condition." Nilo answers, calmly.
"Jesus. That's fucked up."
"Is it? It's the truth."
"It might be. But I thought you'd want success of your own."
"And I do. I'm just answering your whole piracy moralist argument. The whole 'wake up, you gotta make money' vision you so called adults have. I have money. And I will always have. I'm privileged. And I'm not ashamed of it. Should I be?"
Hubble looks at his nephew, baffled.
"That's fucked up, Nilo." – Again? Nilo is angry.
"You wanna talk fucked up? Really? Let me take you back to the last time you came here. Then we'll talk about fucked up."
That did the job of making H. silent. The conversation ended there. Nilo had had enough and went for his bedroom. Too much noise. He needed to lie down. Fuck that guy.
On the way to his bedroom he saw his dad in the kitchen feeling up one of his mother's smiley best friend. It wasn't the first time Nilo saw his father doing that. It was his M.O. He hated that. And he hated being the witness. He felt for his mother. The first time he saw something like that he tried telling his mother, but she claimed he was seeing things that weren't there. He wasn't believable. Why? Because he was a sick person. No credibility. He didn't understand adult matters, you see. So he never told her again.
Lying down, he tried to forget about it all. He couldn't. So he repeated his mantra: "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know."
He decided to take his meds earlier. He could only sleep with them. It was weird, shutting down depending on pills. Unorganic, robotic even. He missed nights. He was a night person no more. They just didn't get it. It was unbearable, really. He needed to do something. A new plan. He needed to get out. And that's exactly what he was going to do. Not suicide, that was a dumb move. But he was going to get out, and there was no force in the world that could stop him. Partnerless, the quest ahead would be lonely, but he was lonely ever since he was born. Even in the crowded house, in cheerful conversations, in the bunch of artists who frequented the ranch, solitude haunted his mindset. No one got it. Not even Hubble. His fixation on his uncle needed to go away. Even hating him was an obsession. That couldn't be anymore. He would leave.