CHAPTER Three
Saturday, August 8th, 2020 through Monday, August 10th, 2020
"Caught in 4k.”
I heard a voice speak followed by the sound of a camera and people laughing, clapping hands, shouting, hailing.
For a minute, I froze, it felt like I was incapable of moving, of thinking. I stared at Derek, maybe you could move, maybe he could speak but Derek wouldn't look into my eyes. His eyes moved everywhere — to my feet, to the floor, the carpet, the tv, to the sofa, anywhere but my face.
“Derek — “
I heard my voice crack but before I could say anything more, someone grabbed my shoulder and forced me to face him and I was met with a guy in the room besides Derek. Actually, I was met with at least half a dozen guys. All of them Latinos. All of them I knew. All of them are people I called my 'fraternity brothers.’
“We know the sick truth about you now, princess.’
Diego’s face was the first one to enter my line of vision and he wore the same expression as everyone else, a sinister twisted expectant look that made my blood run cold and my knees weak. But I couldn't show them I was scared of them, I couldn't fall to my knees in front of them just because they found out I wasn't who they thought I was.
Though, I still couldn't look up without feeling like I'm tearing apart and it's the hardest thing to do, I finally found my voice. A little shaky, but it will do.
“What Is the meaning of this?”
Diego chuckled. I once liked the sound of it and found it comfortable, but that night, it ran chills down my spine and I hated it.
“What does it look like, princess?”
“Stop calling me that.”
“What? Princess?”
He laughed,
“I mean only princesses play for the boys and… you play for the boys too. What does that make you?”
I frowned, remembering where that word began to ring in my head. Though, I knew the answer and wasn't expecting any from him, I asked,
“You sent that text didn't you?”
“What?”
Then he grinned,
“You sucking dick?”
I wanted to punch him as he spoke. Heaven knows my fist twitched to that and if I did I would have broken a bone or two and it won't be mine, but I turned to Derek who sat quietly on the sofa. His head was done and I couldn't see his eyes properly but I knew they weren't settled.
“Derek,”
I called, moving towards him,
“Tell me — tell me exactly what I need to hear. This is a mistake, yeah? You don't have a hand in this, right?”
But he didn't answer, instead he took a much more particular interest in his fingers and he began to twist it. So hard I thought it might snap.
”Yesterday,”
I began,
“Yesterday, behind the library, someone was there right? Someone was — I felt like I was being watched by someone.”
I searched for eyes but like all evening, they refused to meet mine,
“You knew didn't you? It's that why you asked me to come here? Because you are part of this set up?”
Again, Derek kept silent
“Answer me!”
“Doesn't matter.”
He replied. It was a broken small, silent voice but enough for me to hear,
“It really doesn't matter anymore.”
“How do — “
“Okay!”
Diego said, dragging me by the collar of my shirt and forcing me to look at him,
“Okay, that's enough lovers quarrel for one night. I might just pluck my eyes out because of that.”
“Let me go.”
“I should let you go?”
He turned to the other guys behind him, all laughing, all having something so sinister about them,
“we should let you go?”
I couldn't come up with a reply at that moment, I couldn't find the strength to do so. What I could do was slap Diego's hands from my shoulders and make my way to leave but someone pushed me with what I could feel was his leg, that I fell on the ground. Fortunately, I was quick to brace myself and shield my head from hitting the ground, but not so much for the rest of my body.
“What the hell bro,”
I turned to meet Carlos standing in front of me, hands in pocket and his eyes on me like he saw vermin,
“I thought we were all brothers. Why keep this thing you have going on away from us?”
“Just let me go.”
“No,”
Carlos replied, his face twisted to a sneer, like he is looking at something worse than vermin,
“What the hell is wrong with you bro? Tell me,“
and I watched his face grow dark,
“Did you have thoughts about getting it in on with any of us when we hang out?"
They all stared at me, waiting for the answer like it meant anything, like it would change anything. I glared at Derek one more time, before standing up and making my way to the door. This seemed to have frustrated Carlos, for he grabbed me by my shirt, dragged me to him then pinned me to the wall.
“Who told you could leave?”
He sneered,
“You don't want to tell us the ugly truth, huh?”
“I can't believe we stayed in the same room and ate together with him.”
I heard Arturo say, cringing at the way he said 'him’ like I wasn't a living thing,
“Did you see how he was with Derek?”
“I like you.”
“He sounded so pathetic,”
then he turned to me,
“You are pathetic.”
I closed my eyes, wanting to block out their voices. I hated how they made me cower before them, like I was below them but still, I didn't want to believe that any of these was happening. That it was real.
“Why are you doing this?”
I asked,
“I thought we were brothers, why are you doing this?”
Arturo scoffed,
“Brothers? Brothers, you say. Well, princess, who wants to have a brother who thinks lustfully about his brothers?”
“That's not true — that has never happened.”
Arturo grinned,
“Yeah? I even watched you at the abandoned warehouse yesterday. You were so over that other princess there.”
“It was you?”
“I felt someone was watching us. You planned that too.”
Derek opened his mouth to speak but Diego cut him off, coming to stand in front of me,
“I bet that's what you think of doing with us, right?”
“No, Let me go. That has never happened.”
But they didn't listen, didn't try to. Didn't want to. I was pinned to the wall and forced to listen to every word they said — every cuss, every insult, everything. I didn't know how I bore it or handled it. I couldn't remember much after that, I do remember someone punching me on my stomach but I wasn't sure who and all the while, Derek sat there and watched.
I felt caged with them, but I soon found myself in my room, in the shower, letting the tiny drops of water rain on my skin but unlike other times, I felt no comfort, no relief. I just wanted to be alone and even when I was, nothing seemed right to me.
Like I should and like nothing had happened, I turned up for school the next morning. A resident was there, at the entrance of the lecture room for our creative writing class. She tapped her foot on the floor, not showing any signs of stopping soon like she was impatient about something and her eyes searched the faces around her, like she was looking for something until it landed on me.
My first thought was to run, ignore her, do anything that would not warrant me seeing her, but I was glued to the spot, frozen and only stared as she approached me. What if she hated me now? What if she acted like how the frat guys did? What if—
“Why aren't you picking my calls?”
“What?”
Like I did the previous afternoon, when I went to confront her, she shoved her phone to my face,
“ten missed calls, Vera. Ten freaking missed calls.”
“I was busy.”
“Busy with what?”
I opened my mouth to reply her, what I would say I didn't know, but students began to flood into the lecture room and I followed, leaving her behind. She wasn't having it — grabbed me by the hands and whispered harshly that we will meet after the lecture.
The lecture itself was the only thing stopping me from Insanity, and screaming my lungs out, because even then I felt everything was closing up on me and instantly began to regret coming to class. She made sure she sat by me, even though I tried my best to avoid that. I remembered what Diego and Carlos told me about her the day she stormed out of my room. Didn't she resent me now that she knew the truth? Didn't she see me like I was weird like everyone else did? It’s funny that that was two days ago? That two days ago everything was completely fine. It’s funny how everything became so fast paced.
The class ended earlier than I thought it would, although it felt like it was taking an eternity. I was quick to rush out of the lecture room as soon as the lecturer did, but the resident paid attention to my movements like a hawk and refused to leave my side.
When we got to a quiet area in the hallway, I turned to her sharply,
“What do you want from me?”
“I just want to talk.”
She said,
“Why are you running away from me?”
Because I had no valid reason, I didn't answer and she continued,
“because I now know the truth?”
“Please, just stop. I really don't want to talk about that.”
“Why? Why do you look at it like it's something to be so mad about — “
“Then why did they have to do that to me?”
I cried,
“Why did they have too look at me like I’m vomit or something so much worse.”
She stared at me for a moment. Did nothing but wait for my breathing to come down to its normal level.
“I know what they did.”
She confessed and sighed. For a minute I thought she was part of the scheme too.
“I came to see you and apologize for acting the way I did and I met Diego and Carlos.”
They told me everything.”
Her face twisted in disgust,
“They are not even sorry for what they did.”
“You aren't mad?”
I asked and she looked so confused,
“You don't think this is unfair to you after finding out the truth.”
She seemed to have understood where I was getting at and her face broke to a sad smile,
“Oh, I’m fine, I’ll get over it. Is that why you didn't want to help Romeo?”
I nodded. She understood. And for the first time since yesterday's morning, I was relieved.
On the morning of my first day as a resident assistant, I received an email from Jenna which stated my work days and shifts. It was two days after the incident with my frat brothers, two days of being seen like I was somebody else, two days of everyone knowing that I, Vera was a fruity man.
It was weird how things spread wider and faster than wild fire in a hot California summer. How people and everyone seemed to know you once something shocking, surprising or unexpected happens. People stared longer than they should, and their whispers sounded like they really wanted me to hear them, and most times they were not nice things. The good thing about it was, I no longer had that secret banging in my closet, wanting to get out. It was open and out there for everyone to see and many people actually didn't care. It didn't bother them that I was fruity, they didn't mind it at all. Some though, like the women from the flowersuns acted like I was a pile of glass surrounding them and stared at me in a new way, not like I was something to protect like they thought of Romeo, but just something.
In the resident's eyes, I might have bounced back like everything was normal and I was fine. But it wasn't, I knew things have changed right from the moment I heard people clapping back at Derek's house. Things would never be the same at the frat house. Everyone — those who I once took pride in calling hermanos— still saw me as that one thing that should be discarded. They still looked at me differently, said ugly stuff, made me do things and even still claimed I thought of them in a lewd way. It was sick. But I wasn't ready to leave or bend to them just because they didn't approve of me, even though that drained all the energy in me.
But, it was the month of what I loved to call the August energy and a resident had told me to make good use of it and in addition to that, I was now the resident assistant for Latinx floor, a position I had been trying to acquire since my freshman year.
Jenna was the first one to welcome me with a big smile when I walked into the stadium for my first shift. I asked for Veronica since we both had the morning shift together, Jenna said she came an hour early and was setting up the golf cart. I thanked her and was about to leave to meet her, when Jenna called me back and narrowed her eyes at me.
“What were you thinking bringing peaches to Marilyn?”
“Sorry?”
And then I remembered the peaches that I thought would win me a few points.
“Oh God, I'm so sorry about that. Veronica mentioned she loved them and I thought it would be nice to get her some…”
“Veronica told you that?”
I nodded,
“But it was a mistake. She meant cherries. We are deeply sorry.”
“We?”
Jenna frowned,
“Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for. This is Veronica's mistake. She knows Marilyn has breathing allergies when she takes peaches and she's very strict about them.”
“It was a mistake,”
I insisted,
“And she's deeply sorry for that. Please don't do anything to her.”
Jenna observed me for a moment then sighed and rolled her eyes,
“Just because you said so.”
I laughed, she smiled then I made my way to meet up with Jenna. I found her cleaning the golf balls. She noticed me before I could say anything, and that smile that seemed almost automatic was back on her face.
“Hey Vera,”
she greeted.
“Hey. I see you're almost done here.“
“Yeah, I came a bit earlier for it. I might be a bit busy today.”
I nodded then she looked at me like she was expecting me to ask her what she was busy with, so I did. Her response though was unexpected and made me freeze.
“It’s about Romeo,”
she answered,
“I think the assaults against me are getting too much. As a resident assistant here and a flowersuns, I think this is a matter to look at.”
Then her eyes grew wide, like she just remembered something,
“I’m guessing you weren't through the same thing. Did they hurt you like they did Romeo.”
I shook my head, denying it and tried to speak but she didn't seem to notice,
“Those arrogant bastards. I really hope you're doing okay though. I know you want to help Romeo, but with your… situation, it's understandable that you can't do much.”
I wanted to tell her that her sorority really wasn't better. And I might have no clue but I know they aren't exactly nice towards the residents— who wants to be a part of the flowersuns but was always declined.
Like she read my mind, Veronica grinned,
“By the way, I know your friend, that resident has been dying to be a part of the sorority. We had a discussion of recruiting new members, she should apply. I’ll make sure she gets in, this time”
Although I wasn't too thrilled about the idea, I acted like I was, showed her a grin of my own and expressed how wonderful that was.
“I’m happy you are okay with this. She'll be very happy. You two are so close,”
she stated,
“for a while I thought you were dating. How silly of me.”
She laughed, though I didn't find it funny, I joined in.
For the next two hours, it was just me and Veronica — working. We hardly said anything to each other and sometimes I would catch her staring like she wanted to say something but decided against it. But when we began to pack up to leave the golf cart, she tapped me on my shoulder and looked really sorry,
“I just wanted to apologize for that little mix up,”
she began. I told her it was fine and Miss Marilyn didn't get hurt, but she shook her head roughly and her face squeezed to a frown,
“No, no. I act so stupid at times. Those peaches might have killed her and it will be because of my stupid mistake.”
“Well, cherries don't exactly look like peaches so…”
“Doesn't matter. I'm so sorry.”
I told her it was fine and before she thought of crying, I patted her shoulder, assured her one more time that no damage was done and accompanied her to the parking lot, where her car was.
I turned to leave but she grabbed me by my hand, told me that she will give me a ride home. I remembered that she was a flowersuns and I, a member of LLC Fraternity and the Twitter trend and scandal with Romeo was still there and even if I had nothing to do with it, I was still connected to it somehow. But images from that night in Derek's house came to me in flashes and began to play in my head like a movie. I didn't care, at that point, I was convinced they didn't rule me. Thanking Veronica and flashing her a smile, I hopped into the passenger's seat of her Toyota Camry, and she drove off.
We were at the frat house within minutes. I wanted her to drop me off a block before the building, but she declined and replied, saying
“I know what you're doing. But you have to stand up for yourself. Don't let those homophobic bastards rule you.”
“I won't.”
I replied.
“Of course. Just keep looking and watching your back.”
She said dryly, I smiled and thanked her for the ride and advice. She asked if I remembered all my shifts, I replied yes, thanked her again and began to make my way to the entrance door, all the while feeling Veronica's eyes following my every movement.
I met Diego and Carlos on my way to my room like they had been standing there waiting for me. The best thing I could do at that time was ignore the looks they shot at me and continue my walk. But just as I began to do that, Carlos, I believe — because I wasn't sure whom — stretched their legs forward, that I stepped on my feet and stumbled on the ground. I would have fallen face flat, if I hadn't braced myself for the impact and landed on my sides instead — the side of my head did hit the ground though.
“What did you do that for?”
I hated that my voice cracked at the end of it. They seemed to have noticed and let out a small chuckle,
“We noticed you hitched a ride with a girl.”
“So?”
“Didn't you feel anything?”
Diego stepped forward, I stood to my feet,
“Didn't you feel like… touching her?”
I didn't say anything. Didn't need to.
“I bet you didn't, did you?”
“He sucks dick, I’m very sure he didn't even think of Veronica that way. “
He seemed to be talking to Carlos, but Diego's eyes narrowed at me as he came close,
What if he's thinking of us that way, right now.”
“Stop it.”
It came out smaller than I expected, and I hated how I no longer felt confident when I’m with them,
“Just stop okay! Two weeks ago, even last week, you had no idea, no freaking idea that I was fruity. What changed?“
When they didn't say anything, I continued,
“Yes, I’m fruity and no, I don't and I will never think of being with any of you guys. No one will ever think of being with someone who is sick and disgusting and bullies — “
I wish I could say I ended my speech quite well and I walked out freely without a scratch. But while I was just getting riled up to speak my mind and tell them exactly what I felt and thought, Diego's fist landed squarely on my jaw and for the second time that afternoon, I landed on the ground.
I felt someone kick me and another and another and a punch and I thought it would go on forever but it eventually stopped and I was breathing hard, Carlos was too and Diego.
“You really thought you were in the position to speak.”
Diego spat,
“You dirty filthy trash!”
And he kicked me again as if he was trying to prove his point.
“You disgust me.”
Carlos said,
“And I hate that I once ate, talked and called you a friend. You are the one who deserves no one.”
Again, like he was trying to prove a point, he kicked me once more. I closed my eyes and braced myself for another impact, but it never came. They already left. I remember seeing people around us, they were gone too and I wondered why no one came to help. They just stayed and watched and took their phones from their pockets to take a video.
Eventually, I found the strength to get myself up and walk to my room, even though all I did was limp throughout. Thankfully, there was not much damage, especially on my face — except a cut on my forehead, a scratch on my arms, and a small injury on my left arm. Besides all that, I didn't think there was any need to visit the clinic. There was a knock on my door. Faint, but it was there. I didn't want to receive any visitors but before I could speak, the door opened and the visitor stuck his head in. It was Romeo.
“Do you mind if I come in?”
He asked, unable to say anything, I shook my head. I doubt he saw the movement but he came in anyways.
“I saw what happened,”
He began,
“I know it's very cowardly to just watch and not do anything, but you understand don't you?"
I nodded.
“You understand we are now like… outcast to do the ones we call hermanos.”
“We don't have to be — I’m not going to be.”
“It’s not for us to say. Society hates something, they’ll act on it. It's left for us to know if we could stay fighting or give up. At the end, you're all alone and fighting means nothing when you'll fall to the ground anyways.”
“It doesn't matter,”
“But it does,”
he choked out,
“people will hate you for not loving the normal, or what they know as the normal. Apparently, having feelings for boys Isn't.”
“It doesn't — “
“I didn't exactly come here to talk,”
Romeo said quickly,
“I came here to give you this.”
And he handed me a bottle of what looked like pills in them.
“What is this.”
“Antidepressants,”
He smiled,
“I used them when they found out about me. And the start of the Twitter scandal.”
I shook the bottle, hearing the sound of pills hitting the body of the bottle,
“Does it work?”
He shrugged his shoulders,
“Sometimes. But not much lately that's why I’m giving them to you.”
I chuckled,
“But I’m not depressed.”
He laughed, patting my shoulders,
“just in case.’
He stayed in my room for a few more minutes, helped me to press my wounds with a purple towel that was lying on my bed and we talked. About everything and anything, mostly about what the other guys did to him when they found out he wasn't normal. He also mentioned he wasn't convinced the flowersuns are there to help him and just wanted the praise and attention. I told him I didn't think so too and I remembered that resident. Was she any different since she was only interested in his story because she wanted the flowersuns to notice her?
Before he left, I told him my friend is working with the school's press team and she would help him, I also would help him because no one would care about what I did anymore. He smiled and thanked me, that at least he was able to speak with me. I thanked him too for talking to me and the next minute, I was alone again.
That night, I slept well with a new sense of relief. Talking to Romeo, somehow made me feel I had a companion, an ally. I slept looking at the bottle of antidepressants that I now kept on the reading table beside my bed.
I woke the next morning to the sound of voices outside — outside my room, outside the door. I tried to get up as fast as I could to know what was happening but the pains on my body from the beating I got the previous day drew me back.
My phone began to ring, so loud that I flinched at the suddenness of it. It was a resident. Her voice rushed to my ears when I answered it but I couldn't get what she was saying because the words were so rushed.
Then she repeated it. This time, louder and clear enough,
“He’s dead, Vera.”
the resident said,
“Romeo is dead.”
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