23 | Savior Complex

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Chapter Twenty-three | Savior Complex

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Chapter Twenty-three | Savior Complex

Savior Complex by Phoebe Bridgers

I've never seen Sergei and Milo Macarevich in the same room before.

At this point I've obviously grown to know Milo well, and I had quite the first impression of Sergei at the unveiling (second impression, actually) but I've never seen them interact and I've definitely never seen Milo as hesitant and wide-eyed as he is right now.

Sergei is slow in touring the space, his hands clasped behind his back and his lips pursed like he's been chewing a lemon rime. He hasn't noticed me — correction, he hasn't looked at me, seated on the couch, still.

Milo is nervously walking with him, fixing the rotation of lamps and picking up dishes before Sergei reaches them. There's a franticness that he tries to mask, but I can see right through it. He swallows and scratches the back of his neck every other second.

There's a certain distance Milo's tried to create between himself and his father. The fact that he calls him by his first name is an indicator in itself, alongside the more literal example of having left the family home. I kind of thought it translated to a certain carelessness, but he does care. The fact that he's scrambling and shaking, collecting and cleaning, swallowing and hesitating, shows that he cares about Sergei's opinion more than he'd ever admit.

"I'm hurt you haven't invited me sooner." Sergei unexpectedly turns on his heel.

Milo, who was previously walking after him, startles and clears his throat awkwardly. "I wanted to... when it was finished."

"It's not finished yet?" Sergei inquires, raising an eyebrow. "How much more of my money are you planning to spend?"

This is the second time I'm in Milo's apartment, listening in on a conversation I probably shouldn't be, but Sergei's entrance was very much a surprise and I'm kind of scared he detects motion, so I've been sitting here breathless for seven minutes. In any case, it seems like he's not the type of guy to acknowledge people he has no interest in, so I'm safe for now.

"I bought the furniture on my own, and Vivian was the one to help with the down-payment and rent."

Sergei nods. "Right, I heard. I've talked to her about that. You're not doing anything shady, are you?" He steps forward, clapping Milo on his shoulder and pulling him closer. "If you are, at least do it well so I don't have to find out." With a flick of his wrist, he's released Milo and pushed him back so that he stumbles over his feet.

On instinct, I find myself standing. I was right about Sergei detecting motion, at least, because he turns to find me watching the exchange and fiddling with my spastic hands, confused on what to do.

"Who are you again?" He asks, his eyebrows bumping together in a scowl.

I open my mouth, feeling the muscles pull and tremble before any sound has even escaped it. My words are intercepted by Milo, who steps between us, blocking his father's view of me.

Sincerely, Nova ✓Where stories live. Discover now