who am i to you?

10.1

TW: Homophobia. Bullying. Slurs. Violence

***

"Vasily, are you gay?"

My gaze went past her. I don't know where to look. Meeting her eyes feels so shameful.

I rubbed my palm on my thighs, feeling the heat from the friction. "That envelope..."

"I found it in your drawer."

I looked down. "But you said..."

"I lied," she admitted. "Because I wanted to know something about my son who doesn't tell me anything about his life when I'm out for work to make a living for him."

I pursed my lips. "I'm sorry."

She was silent but I can see from my peripherals that she's staring at me. "I thought it was a joke."

"What?" Confusion got me looking at her but that didn't last long before I looked down. "T-the what?"

"That you're gay. You said they were just teasing you."

"Oh..."

That incident back then at school with David. I've completely forgotten about it now.

"When I read it, I never thought Saint was a girl," she started. I gulped, feeling something coming up my throat. "I'm convincing myself that maybe it's just a unique name. So I was hoping to meet this girl one day. It turns out, there's no girl to meet. Because he's a boy."

I lifted my gaze to the envelope. Saint didn't even get to read it and here Mom is, having read it all.

"That's not mine, Mom," I said absentmindedly.

"'Vy' is not you?"

"Y-yeah." I tried to meet her eyes to make it convincing. Her eyes are emotionless pit darkness. She may not show it on her face but I know exactly what she's feeling.

"But this is your handwriting. Do you think I don't recognize it?"

"It's just a part of our play, Mom," I said, smiling a bit.

"Why is it in your drawer?"

"They told me to keep it because we'll use it... next week." I laughed a bit to ease the painful lump in my throat.

She stared emptily at me. Instead of saying anything, she took the envelope and opened it. I wanted to take it away from her but I was frozen in my place. All I could do was stare at the table between us.