Vicious people doing despicable things

12 Purple glitter everywhere

Mark

The next night, when I come back from work, the first thing I notice upon entering my room is the smell. It never smelled like this in my room.

"Hi," Nam says from where he's sitting on the floor and painting his nails with glittery purple nail polish. My mom's. That's how I know this terrible smell. "I couldn't sleep," Nam says as I sit in front of him and take the brush out of his hand. He gives me a confused look.

He's only done three nails, they are all a bit messy. He's not very good at it. "Put your hands on my knees," I tell him. He obliges. It has been years since I did it last time. I'm out of practice. But my hands don't shake as much as Nam's, so it's okay, it looks better that his sloppy handiwork. Despite the terrible smell, the process is quite soothing. Akin meditation.

"How come you know how to do nails?" Nam asks, watching me working on his thumb.

"My grandma," I say, carefully brushing on the color. "For the last couple of years of her life, she was very ill and never left her bed, but she asked me to do her makeup and her nails at least once a week. She was very demanding. I had to watch a dozen tutorials on YouTube to learn how to do it right. I hated her at first. Hated that I had to spend time in her dusty, murky room instead of playing with Luc outside. She complained about everything. It was always too hot or too cold. The plots of TV shows were always either too predictable or absolutely unrealistic. I was always too slow and clumsy. Everything was wrong. But I kind of learned to like her. She told me about her life and listened to my stories about Luc. At some point, I started watching her TV shows with her, and criticizing it together was kind of fun. She taught me to stay true to myself in any situation. Not to be afraid to voice my opinion. She could barely move but she found a way to keep me by her side for a company. She didn't leave her room but it was important to her look good nevertheless. She taught me that, if you show people who you really are, they will love the real you." I look up at him and give him a little smile. "I think she would like you."

Nam doesn't say anything for a couple of minutes. I concentrate on his nails. I take his hand in mine and bring it closer to my eyes. I hate that I can see his fingers trembling. I fucking hate it. And I don't know how to fix it. How to un-fuck all this. I want to tell him that he doesn't have to pretend to be all right for me. But maybe he's doing it for himself. I wish I knew how he feels. I wish he'd talk to me.

"Are there any members of your family who aren't legendary?" Nam asks and I let out a laugh.

"Our dog Hugo once bit a mayor," I say and blow on the fresh coat of nail polish.

"LEGENDARY," Nam says, stressing every syllable. I give him a soft smile, hoping it doesn't look too sad. "So, you can do my makeup as well?" he asks, shaking his hands in the air to help the nail polish dry faster.

"If you want to look like my grandma." I shrug.

"Was she pretty?" He's smiling. I love seeing him smile again. I'm so, so fond of his smile. But now it makes my chest feel tight. This smile used to cover all his pain, but it can't cover the bruises and scars on his face. And I hate it. Not the smile – his smile is perfect and I love it – but the pain behind it and the trembling of his fingers.

"She was 89," I say, turning my focus to his nails again.

"Ugh, you are no fun."

I want to note that the last time I tried not to be boring he got hurt, but I keep this thought to myself. I want to ask him how he's feeling, but I'm scared it might make him sad again. We haven't talked about what happened and what we are going to do next. We should. I know we should discuss all this shit and make a plan or something. But maybe not tonight.