evanescence (2.) | ✔️

INTERLUDE // Romano De Carlo

September 8, 2015

Los Angeles, California

        A hand is shoved in front of me. I'm quick to bring my own to shake it once, then twice. Firm grip, eye contact, small smile. It was practically muscle memory at this point.

        "Romano. Happy birthday, young man!" Anthony says. He was the owner of a neighboring company, racking in over a million a year. He also frequently cheats on his wife without her knowing consent, but that was just semantics. "Eighteen. You'll be in charge someday soon, yes?"

        I broaden my smile, though it doesn't feel even close to natural. "Yes, sir. That's the plan."

        Whitney, Anthony's wife, smiles from beside him. "We look forward to seeing what you'll do in the future. There's nothing but great things ahead for you, I just know it!"

        "Your future, Roman," Beau whispers dejectedly, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I don't fit in it. I don't fit in at all."

        My chest gets tight. I clear my throat once and loosen my tie. Anthony and Whitney are still droning on but I can't hear them. I'm back in Beaumont's backyard just two nights ago, hearing him telling me that it's over, that we were done.

        "I can make you fit," I whisper. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell. But his parents were just inside. It'd ruin everything completely if they knew how often I snuck out here to meet with their son. "Please, just, don't do this!"

        Beau shakes his head. "It's already done. We knew this secret couldn't be a secret for much longer anyway. At least we'd end it before anyone had to know."

        "Romano? Are you all right?" Whitney asks, a concerned glint in her eyes. The look is so motherly that I almost feel compelled to tell her exactly what her husband was doing behind her back. But I'm not that kind.

        I smile bashfully. "Excuse me, I should find a bathroom. A tad too much champagne, I'm afraid."

        The couple laughs as I make a beeline towards the bathroom, out of the hotel ballroom, and down the hall. I push open the door aggressively before rushing to the sink, gripping the sides of the white porcelain so hard that my palms burn.

        I was crying unabashedly, like a child. If my father saw, he'd say I was too powerful to cry. I didn't feel powerful. I felt helpless. "I guess some part of me just hoped that whenever we were ready for it to not be a secret, we'd be in it together."

        "Let's face it," Beau exclaims, dropping his hands to his sides in anger. I'd never seen him so upset before. I'd never seen him angry at anything. "It was always just going to be some fucking secret. I'm the preacher's son and you...you're going to be very important someday. You're going to have everything."

        I felt hollow. Like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and left me bleeding. With a shaky breath, I stuff my hands into my pockets.

        "I thought I already did."

        A harsh sob escapes my lips. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, wishing I'd brought something stronger than champagne, wishing that my father had allowed me to invite my "stupid" high school friends instead of his business colleagues to my birthday party. Jeremy would know what to say to make me feel better. Nova would have a funny joke or story to get my mind off of things.