Christian Ivanov and Alexander Hamilton have finally found each other.
But it wouldn't be love, if every universal force imaginable wasn't hell bent on breaking these two up before their romance has even really begun.
Among the lies, the family sec...
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"Listen, I'm so grateful for everything you guys have done for me here... but believe me when I say I rather die, than eat whatever the fuck that is." Derek said through his slurred words. He was struggling to pull up the shirt he was wearing when it slipped off his right shoulder again. If I thought Brad's shirt looked like a dress on Alex, Brad's clothing looked like a fucking gown on Derek.
The sweatpants I picked out for him, were rolled up about 5-6 times at the waist to keep from dragging across Brad's floor. I mean, it was either this or he remained naked. Derek didn't seem to mind the choice he had made.
He was finally reaching a sobering state, but the hangover that came with Gdański only intensified with time.
"Shut up, and eat it." My father was quick to reply. "You haven't felt the worst of this hangover yet."
I saw Derek flinch as he eyed the plate our father had set before him on the kitchen island.
"I choose death." He confirmed, before pushing the plate back to Slav. I saw Slav's eye twitch, and I knew it was about time I stepped in before my father ended Derek's life himself.
"It's called katerfrühstück." I explained. "It's marinated herring, and pickled gherkin which is sort of like cucumbers. It's then wrapped in onion. Yes, it looks and smells and definitely tastes like complete shit, but this dish will have you feeling better in no time."
Derek looked up at me, then back down at the plate.
"Nah, the thought of death is growing on me." He replied simply. That was when my father snapped.
"I just spent the last two hours making you this meal. If I don't see every last scrap on this plate gone, I will not hesitate to snuff out the last few breathes you do have left." He spoke with a harsh tone Slav had since been doing well on avoiding. I was surprised he hadn't already tried to force this food down Derek's throat, himself.
He'd done that to Brad and I plenty.
Derek shriveled up at my fathers words, as he hesitantly picked up the fork on the table. It was that first bite, that almost made Brad and I piss our pants. We toppled over with laughter when Derek face contorted into the most disgusted expression. He gagged a few times before he finally got the first bite down.
"I think I'm going to be sick all over again." He mumbled to himself. My father sat across from him with the largest grin on his face, as he watched Derek eat bite by bite.
Slav was definitely a sadist.
This brought on more memories from mine and Brad's past. Brad rarely ever drank these days, but back when we were in college, he used to kill his liver every night. His iconic phrase to say while we were a few shots away from death itself, was: if we die, we die. There was a particular night where our father had hosted a gentleman's gathering, and Brad and I were finally invited to join.
