Chapter Text
Hot Dawgs
(30th October, a Wednesday)
“I’d like to promote you to assistant manager,” Adelia said.
Adelia was Lio’s boss. She’d been his boss for the six months he’d endured working at Hot Dawgs, a hot dog stand at the city mall, which was placed directly in front of a David Jones department store. It was not a good job. His work uniform included a hat with a red dog on it.
“Meis and Gueira have been here longer than I have,” Lio said. “I’m not sure that’s fair.”
“They are not very good at their jobs,” Adelia replied.
Meis, who had been standing directly behind Adelia, nodded firmly in Lio’s direction. Gueira was next to him, pouring sauce directly into his own mouth.
“Congratulations,” Adelia said, dryly. “I’m going to go vape behind the dumpsters, enjoy opening up shop.”
Lio’s promotion had come with a new hat. It was still shaped like a dog, but it had a wiener in its mouth. He had enough pride to survive it, but it was unspeakably tacky, and he hated it. Lio had not realised his own capacity for hatred, until he had met the wiener hat.
“I’m so jealous,” Meis said.
“You’re kidding me,” Lio said, as he held the wiener hat in his hands.
“That hat is so much better than our ones,” Gueira replied.
“A hot dog with a hot dog in its mouth,” Meis said, hands raised enthusiastically. “It’s meta.”
“That hat slaps,” Gueira said, sagely.
Lio gave them both a slow, measured gaze. There was absolutely no indication that they were fucking with him.
“You know, you could have this hat, if you worked a little harder,” Lio said.
Meis shook his head with a sympathetic look on his face. Gueira’s expression twisted into a grimace.
“We like having you as a boss, Boss,” Gueira said. “you need to accept it.”
“Change… is good,” Meis added.
“But can we borrow the hat while we’re off shift?” Gueira said.
“Yes, we would very much like to borrow the hat,” Meis replied.
Lio knew that he was rewarding bad behaviour, but he didn’t have it in him to say no. He held out the hat. Meis and Gueira watched his hand like cats watching a laser pointer.
“You have to share,” he said, firmly.
“I’ll fight you for it,” Gueira said.
“Meis gets the hat first,” Lio replied.
Lio walked ten feet behind them on the trip to the bus station, because Meis had chosen to dance out his victory and showed no signs of stopping. They had to walk through David Jones to reach the quickest exit, which phased him not at all. The perfume girls found Meis very amusing. Lio deliberately avoided eye contact, because, even smelling of hotdog water, he looked like someone who bought cologne and then wore it. An assumption which was hurtful in part because it was true.
He caught sight of a large sign which proclaimed that Santa Is Coming! and that he and his elves would be visiting the department store starting November 1st. It was currently October 30th. Lio closed his eyes against the pain that knowledge caused him.
“It’s not even December,” he whispered, under his breath.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw Meis making finger guns at the woman working behind the lingerie counter.
Lio had plans.
They were achievable. He wanted to begin his undergraduate degree majoring in Law and Political Science, thereafter acting as president of the campus law review and interning with various Burnish academics and politicians during his summer holidays, prior to studying for his post-graduate qualification while working for a law firm which specialised in human rights, culminating in him becoming the youngest Burnish senator in the history of the continent.
He had complete confidence in his abilities and his work ethic. He hadn’t slept more than five hours a night for a decade.
His parents were also very confident in him, and willing to support him. They’d bought him a car when he turned 16, to lessen his commute to school. They’d given him subscriptions to all the major law journals and periodicals. For his seventeenth birthday, they gave him a gold watch and a tshirt that said “Future Law Graduate.” One of his father’s old university friends had already offered him a position as a political aide during the next election. It was incredibly generous. It also made his skin crawl.
Lio was a very privileged person, Burnishness aside. He knew that. He planned to use it for good, to the best of his ability. But one night, as he lay awake in bed, at 4am, something he had been ignoring came to the forefront of his own mind.
Lio Fotia did not sign his own cheques.
His parents paid his bills. They’d paid for his private schooling and they’d pay for his university fees. They could afford it. His mother worked in corporate law and his father was an investment banker.
“Wouldn’t it be nice if you could join my firm,” his mother had said, over dinner that night.
“Have you thought of joining the Young Nationals?” his father added. “It might be good for you to be around a group of motivated young people, like yourself.”
They loved him, so much, but if he wasn’t careful, they would lovingly herd him into being the sort of prick he couldn’t look at in the mirror. A Burnish turncoat. A class traitor.
If he wanted to avoid that, he’d need to get independent. He’d need to make his money and support himself.
So, he applied for every job he could find and didn’t get any of them, until Gueira took pity on him and begged his supervisor for a test shift at his job selling hot dogs to hangry retail shoppers.
And that was how he came to work at Hot Dawgs.
(31st October, a Thursday)
The next day, a Thursday, Lio watched for an hour as a group of burly workmen set up a giant throne for Santa, surrounded by a picturesque depiction of a wintery wonderland. Outside the shopping centre it was 39 degrees Celsius and the asphalt was literally melting. Lio had started to sweat just from walking the two minutes from the bus stop to the centre doors.
And some bastard had decided to play a pop cover of “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,” over the main speakers. It was not to be endured.
“Hi, there!” A voice cut through his reverie.
“What can I get for you?” Lio asked.
“I’m fine and how are you?”
Lio blinked. He turned towards the customer currently standing before the counter. He was tall, with gravity-defying blue hair and a pleasantly gormless expression on his face. In spite of the weather, he was wearing a slouchy, over-sized hoodie. He was cute, if you were into that sort of thing.
“Um,” Lio said, which was annoying, as he was not an um-er. “I’m well, what can I do for you today?”
“You guys do ice cream, right?”
Lio looked up at the menu board, which included a panel dedicated to ice cream.
“Yes,” he said.
“Do you guys still do those soft-serve cones that look like Agro?”
He had a moment of cognitive dissonance that took several seconds to address. He narrowed his eyes at the guy, who was now looking a little less gormless, but not yet antagonistic.
“Are you talking about that weird children’s show puppet, from the nineties?”
The guy put his left finger on the side of his nose and pointed the other at Lio.
“Yes!” he said.
“The early nineties?”
“Yes!”
“No, we don’t have those anymore,” Lio said.
“Do you have that chocolate powdery stuff they dip the ice cream in?”
Lio could see where this was going.
“We do,” he sighed.
“Do you have chocolate smarties?”
“Is there any other kind?” Lio asked.
“Candy bananas?”
They did indeed have all of those things.
“We don’t have the fake teeth, though,” Lio said, with a sense of triumph.
“Totally cool,” the guy said. “I brought some of my own.”
He held up a large bag of gummy teeth. Lio admirably kept his mouth from dropping open.
“You can only buy them in bulk,” the guy said, in response to a question Lio had not asked.
So Lio made him a soft serve ice cream, with chocolate malt powder to mimic puppet fuzz, smarties for eyes, with a red nose, and two banana halves serving as a little moustache thing. A single set of gummy teeth completed the creation. It looked absolutely unhinged.
“That will be three dollars fifty,” Lio said.
“Wait, lemme see what I’ve got.”
The guy played around with his pockets until he came out with three dollars in ten cent coins and a single fifty cent piece. There was lint on it. Lio accepted the currency with a prophetic sense that this interaction would set the tone for the rest of his summer.
“Hey, seriously, thanks for being a good sport,” the guy said. “I know it’s stupid, but I just got really nostalgic about it for some reason. Have a great day, hey?”
He smiled and Lio saw that he had very straight teeth and pretty, blue eyes.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
The guy bounced off, towards a girl with pink hair who was waiting at the front of the department store. He held up his ice cream and pointed at it, excitement alight in his step. She leaned back in fake annoyance, mouth open on a groan, before righting herself and pushing his shoulder. He laughed and then made her take a photo of his ice cream on her phone.
They wandered off past Santa’s grotto and Lio didn’t think about them again.
(1st November, a Friday)
Since he’d finished his final HSC exams (all of two weeks before) Lio had switched from evening shifts and weekends to the daytime grind. It hadn’t been bad at all, just boring. Business was slower during work hours. Most people who shopped at department stores weren’t super into phallic fast food.
“Strap yourselves in,” Adelia said, during their morning meeting. “Santa’s here and we’re about to be inundated with the worst customers god can provide.”
“Children?” Lio asked.
“No, parents,” Adelia replied. “Entitled, frustrated, over-worked parents who think a four-dollar hotdog entitles them to fine dining service at super-sonic speeds.”
“This sounds rehearsed…” Gueira said.
“It is rehearsed!” Adelia levelled Gueira with a glare that froze him in his seat. “This is our yearly battleground. You will thrive or you will fall underneath the hyperbolic complaints of men and women who make six figure salaries and vacation on yachts!”
She was describing Lio’s mother and father.
“You will not flinch when teenage boys make dick jokes, you will make no eye contact when a child throws itself to the floor at its grandmother’s feet. I want you to put all your emotions in a box at the start of every shift and worry about therapy after you clock off,” Adelia cried, with the wearied conviction of a war general.
Thyma raised her hand, from her place behind Lio’s shoulder.
“Can I quit, please?”
“No,” Adelia said, her voice full of frost. “Because your dad asked me to give you this job and you will finish this shift or I will finish you.”
“It’s just first day jitters,” Lio said, diplomatically. “You’ll be fine.”
“This is basic training and the war will come December,” Adelia said, through gritted teeth.
“Maybe we can not scare the new hire,” Lio said.
“God help you if you get a boomer,” Adelia replied. “Any questions?”
“Do we get time and a half on Christmas Eve?” Gueira asked.
“No,” Adelia said.
“Then why would I work Christmas Eve?” Gueira asked.
“Because as of now you will be rostered on Christmas Eve no matter what circumstances you may encounter or excuses you may give.”
“Aw,” Gueira replied.
“What do we do if someone gets really mad?” Meis asked.
“Get Lio.”
“What if Lio isn’t there?”
“I will answer you under extreme duress.”
“Can I please quit?” Thyma asked, helplessly.
“My answer is ‘no,’ do not ask me a third time,” Adelia replied.
“Okay.” Lio clapped his hands together. “Thyma, you can shadow me for my shift. The mornings are quiet, so there’s plenty of time to learn. You won’t always have shifts after staff meetings, but we will pay you for your time.”
“See you at three, bro,” Gueira said.
Lio held his hand out so Gueira could slap it as he walked past, a near-invisible puff of flame passed between them. Meis mirrored the gesture as he followed. Adelia already had her bag over her shoulder and her vape in hand.
“That’ll kill you,” Lio said, with a frown.
“If only,” Adelia replied, bleakly.
She stalked out, with ten minutes left to open. He saw her glide down the escalators and out of sight.
“Let’s start with the point of service,” Lio said, with a sigh.
Thyma performed better than Lio had thought she would. He imagined it had a lot to do with Adelia’s continuing absence. Thyma could work the software with ease and she could talk to the general public with a warmth that Lio was a little too tired for. He had a good feeling about her prospects. If he could get her used to the busier times, she’d be an asset.
Lio was replacing serviettes when he heard Thyma call for him for the first time.
“Um, Lio,” she said, a little confusion in her voice. “There’s a young man here to see you… he says you’re a friend?”
Lio looked back towards her and saw the guy from yesterday, clad in the same baggy sweatshirt as before, even though the weather remained hot as hell outside. He grinned and waved, and then held up his bag of gummy teeth. Lio returned his enthusiasm with apathy.
“Welcome back…” Lio said.
“Galo,” Galo said. “Mind doing me another favour?”
He shook the bag of teeth.
“Just so you know, I’m not going to do this when there are other customers around,” Lio said, already reaching for a cone. “If everyone thinks they can get custom ice cream from us, it’ll be nothing but trouble.”
“Too easy!” Galo said. “Thanks man.”
Lio handed him his ice cream and Galo handed him three dollars fifty in small change.
“See you later,” Galo said, before he walked off into David Jones.
Half an hour later, with a small line already formed, Santa’s Grotto opened for the first time. Santa’s elves included a lithely muscled girl with pink hair who looked familiar, and a young man with gravity defying blue hair and biceps that were as big as his head. Both of them, clad in the tiny green shorts endemic to their profession, had thighs that looked as if they had been carved from marble.
“Oh, my,” Thyma said quietly, as she looked at the pink-haired girl with stars in her eyes.
Lio left her to her crush. They were about to have a steady stream of hungry children availing themselves of the hotdog stand and he wanted to make sure they had enough buns.
Santa brought in a steady stream of customers, but thankfully most people agreed that November was too early for a visit to Saint Nicholas. It was busy enough not to be boring and quiet enough that Lio could fit in some people watching in between teaching Thyma how to operate the ice cream machine. He wondered, as if he often did, just how badly Adelia had been exaggerating the horrors of the Christmas season. Thus far the parents had been in good spirits and the children well behaved.
Lio took a moment to watch a tiny child with a batman mask and a pink tutu step up to take their turn with Santa. The kid got within two metres of him before they stopped cold. The child’s mother was close behind, with a smile on her face and a gentle hand on the child’s back. It was too far to hear the conversation but whatever she said, the child responded with a very adamant headshake and a firmly ducked head.
The mother tried again, her head turning back after a moment, seemingly concerned about the reactions of the other families in line. The child’s shoulders came up and a look of fear came onto their face. Lio winced. He wanted to do something for them…
Then he saw Galo step over, meet the mother’s eyes and point down at her child, his head tilted a little. She nodded.
Galo dropped down into a crouch. Lio couldn’t hear what he was saying, the stand was too far away for that, but he saw Galo raise his hand and wave, before tucking his arms back in around his own knees. Galo’s finger pointed out, towards the child’s tutu. The kid’s shoulders stayed up, but their eyes rose up enough to meet Galo’s.
And after that, for about a minute, they just talked.
Galo would nod every now and then, his attention completely focused on the little kid in front of him. The other elf walked up and down the line, handing out candy canes, with gentle smiles for everyone. Before long, the kid Galo was talking too didn’t seem upset at all anymore.
Galo pointed at Santa, and the kid nodded. Galo and Santa exchanged some words and Santa stood up. When the kid walked over to his side, Santa held his hand out and the kid took it. Galo ducked over to the camera and took their photo. The kid ran back over to their mother, who was seemingly thanking Galo and Santa profusely. Galo gave the kid a high five as they both left.
Nothing more was said about it. Santa went back to his seat and took about fifty more photos before the Grotto closed for the day. Maybe there were a few batted eyes here and there for Santa’s elves, but nothing more than that.
It stuck with him, along with a sticky unpleasant feeling in his stomach. He hoped that Galo would stop by after his shift, but he didn’t. As the afternoon became busier, Lio realised that he had effectively asked Galo not to come back.
Lio took after his mother in looks. They were both slight in build, with pale hair and violet eyes. Her face was a little sharper than his, her cheekbones more defined. His father had a taller frame and darker hair, and the only inheritance his father had given him was a flatter face and a button nose. The origins of Lio’s personality were another question altogether.
“Darling,” his mother said, over dinner that night. “We’re attending a charity event with one of your father’s old school friends on the twelfth.”
“It’s a Tuesday evening,” his father added.
“And we’d like you to come. I think it could be very good for you to meet him.”
“He’s the one who offered you that internship.”
The internship that Lio had not applied for, earned or requested. He felt an uncomfortable resentment about it. He didn’t want an opportunity he hadn’t earned, but he didn’t want to be ungrateful either.
“I finish early on Tuesdays, so I can come after six,” Lio said.
His parents, with eerie synchronicity, developed identical, constipated expressions upon their faces.
“The party isn’t until eight, so that works out well,” his mother said, her voice light and brittle like a nurse telling a dying soldier that he would live.
“It is almost Christmas,” his father said. “Maybe you should take a break now.”
“You’ve been working very hard all year. We’re very proud! But there’s no harm in taking a little time to be young,” his mother said.
“I enjoy working,” Lio said. “And I just made assistant manager.”
“Oh, you didn’t tell us!” His father now looked torn between approval and shame.
“Well done, Darling,” His mother said.
“Thank you,” Lio replied.
He may not have liked his job, his uniform or the hotdogs he sold, but if nothing else it was something he had achieved solely on his own merits.
(2nd November, a Saturday)
Saturday was a little different. A group of very serious men in black suits made a ring around Santa’s Grotto, two hours before it was due to open. A similarly serious-looking woman in a sharp suit and stilettos stood nearby, clipboard in hand. Santa was beside her, already fully dressed. Lio wasn’t sure if he was projecting but there was something about him that seemed distinctly unimpressed.
Lio realised why, when the Governor of Promepolis, Kray Foresight, appeared, Galo and his co-worker in tow. Galo wasn’t in his uniform yet and neither was the pink-haired girl. Their party was followed by a keen-eyed young man with a microphone in hand and a woman with a shoulder-mounted camera. The mall was still comparatively empty, with a few bystanders stopping to look on, so Lio could hear their conversation.
“It’s such a pleasure to meet with you, Governor,” the tv presenter said. “And what a wonderful cause!”
“I’m always glad to give back to our beautiful city,” Governor Foresight said, with a politician’s smile.
“You don’t already give enough?” The presenter laughed, lightly.
“There’s always more to give at this time of year,” Governor Foresight replied. “I’m very pleased to announce our annual Christmas drive, starting right here in the heart of Promepolis.”
Lio felt his lips thin and the flames inside him flicker angrily. He wasn’t a fan of Governor Foresight. His stance on the Burnish was vague but hardly positive. Every now and again a notion for mandatory disclosure of Burnish status would pass around his parliament. Foresight had never supported it, but he hadn’t spoken out about it either. His platform focused heavily on public safety, but his lens was punitive. Foresight earned his votes from people who liked the idea of a prison more than a community program.
“I’d like to get some shots of you with these young people,” the presenter said. “We’ll add voiceover in post.”
“You’ll need to run it by my EA before broadcast,” Foresight replied.
“Of course!” the presenter said. “My producer has Biar’s details. Anything relating to you always goes by her first.”
Lio rolled his eyes. Independence of the press was a joke.
“Okay kids,” the camerawoman said. “I want to get a few shots of you and the Governor, so why don’t you have a little chat. Ignore that I’m here and try to look natural.”
“Sure thing!” Galo said.
The girl nodded.
“I’m going to need some smiles, Hannah,” the camerawoman said.
“It’s Aina,” Aina replied, with a grimace which wasn’t trying very hard to look like something else.
Galo turned a bright, open-mouthed grin on her. Aina’s expression became more naturally warm. She punched his shoulder lightly, as she had the first time Lio had seen her.
“You should say ‘hi’ to your mum while we’re on camera,” Galo said.
“Yes, because my mother would love seeing me be unprofessional on tv,” she replied.
“I’m sure she’ll be very pleased to see you representing Promepolis,” Foresight said.
Foresight had his arms clasped behind his own back, in parade rest. Galo wasn’t mimicking him, his manner was much easier, but his back was still painfully straight. He clearly cared very much about Foresight’s opinion of him. He was probably one of those strait-laced young conservatives who thought everyone was entitled to their opinion, no matter how harmful. Lio felt a reflexive, sudden dislike for him.
“Thank you for supporting the Christmas drive, Sir,” Aina said.
“We did so well last year,” Galo said. “Someone even donated bikes!”
Aina gave Galo a fond smile.
“I seem to recall someone wiping out trying to teach ten-year olds how to do wheelies,” she said.
“The ground was wet!”
Foresight laughed, deep and slow, and very fake.
“Hopefully we can have a less damaging repeat this year,” Foresight said.
“At least wait until after I get back for New Year’s,” Aina said. “I’ll bring the first aid kit.”
“Ah, but I’m so impulsive, how will I hold off?”
“Can I get a burger?” A voice cut through Lio’s eavesdropping.
“Pardon?” he said.
A man in a polo and khakis stared Lio down with distaste. Lio kept his own expression neutral. There was no reasoning with men in polos and khakis.
“Can I get a burger?” the man asked again, derisively.
“Sir, this is a hotdog stand,” Lio replied.
Work proved a good distraction for the rest of the shoot over at the Grotto. A small line of parents and children had formed off to the side, waiting for it to open at eleven. Foresight took a few minutes to gladhand with the voters among them, with regular pauses to pat future voters on their little heads. His EA walked over to him and whispered into his ear, after he’d worked the line enough.
“It’s time for me to go,” Foresight said, with a wave for his constituents.
Galo loitered, behind him a little, still upright and keen. The EA spared him a glance and whispered into Foresight’s ear anew. Foresight’s expression tightened, almost imperceptibly but it smoothed over so quickly that Lio almost thought he’d imagined it. Foresight waved Galo over and began to walk with him, security broken into two groups, ahead and behind them. They walked closer to the hotdog stand.
“What are you doing for Christmas this year, Gov?” Galo asked, as they passed.
He looked like a golden retriever before its master, desperate and adoring.
“Unfortunately, I’ll be travelling this year,” the Governor replied.
Galo wilted, visibly, “Yeah, you must be super busy, even during the holidays.”
The Governor placed a paternal hand upon Galo’s shoulders and gave him a firm pat. He moved his hand away as quickly as it had appeared, but it put the smile back on Galo’s face. Lio turned away, feeling slightly disgusted. Of course Galo would be related to Foresight. They had the same thick neck.
He saw Aina, freshly dressed in her work outfit. Her eyes followed the two of them as they walked away. Her lips were pursed like she was upset. Santa stepped up until he was beside her and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. She leant into the embrace.
Lio had no idea what that could be about, whether she felt the same frustration he did. He hardly had the opportunity to ask her.
Burnish flames were teal.
They were no colour that might be found in nature, or if you held the right element over a Bunsen burner. They were neon and electric, and perfectly harmless. The worst a Burnish flame could do to you, was make you feel warm.
Lio thought his flames were beautiful. He loved them as a part of himself and had from the day they had first sparked in his hands, when he was eight and playing alone in his parent’s garden. His mother had dropped her wine glass when he showed her, full of pride.
She taught him that it wasn’t polite to show one’s flames. That they were something to be held in private. His father told him that maybe he’d grow out of it.
Lio turned on the news that night, as he always did, even on weekends. The news anchors smiled at him with shiny white teeth.
“President Morrison strikes controversy again today, after going on holiday in the city of Promepolis while his entire country is swallowed by cavernous sinkholes,” the male anchor said.
“Oh my,” the female anchor said. “That doesn’t sound like a hole in one for Morrison!”
“Maybe a par four!”
They both laughed jovially, their eyes crinkling.
“And our next segment is about our very own Governor and the valuable work he’s been doing with disadvantaged youths—”
Lio turned the television off.
(3rd November, a Sunday)
Lio had the next two days off, which was a welcome reprieve. Meis, unfortunately, was on afternoon shift at Hot Dawgs, but he finished at five, so Lio picked him up from work, then drove over to Gueira’s to collect both him and the two boxes of wine his cousin had bought for him as a graduation present.
“Did you bring the esky?” Gueira asked.
Gueira put the boxes in the back seat of Lio’s car, then put the seatbelt over them. Better safe than sober.
“Yes, but we haven’t got the ice yet,” Lio said. “Or food.”
“We’re already bringing fruit juice, if you think about it,” Meis replied.
“No,” Lio said.
“I’ll just nick some stuff from the pantry. I think we have chips in there,” Gueira replied.
“Won’t your mum get mad?” Meis asked.
“Nah, she’s started buying in bulk because I eat so much.”
“Thanks, Mrs Gueira’s Mum,” Meis replied sweetly.
“Homebrand though.”
“Aw, Mrs Gueira’s mum…”
“Thanks for bringing some snacks, we’ll stop by woolies too while we’re on our way,” Lio said. “And then the servo.”
“Ice ice, baby!” Gueira replied, before he disappeared into his house.
Lio turned off his ignition while they waited. Immediately the heat of summer began to bake in from outside. Even though the aircon had been on, his steering wheel felt a little warm.
It was a little wild to be able to go out drinking on a Sunday without any commitments to worry about. No assignments, no looming exams. Nothing but another shift at work come Tuesday. Lio leaned back into his seat, closed his eyes and sighed.
“You know, I kinda regret that we didn’t all decide to do something for schoolies,” Meis said, breaking the comfortable silence.
Lio snorted, fondly. “I don’t think any of us would’ve had fun getting shitfaced in Kingsland with crowds of people we don’t know.”
“Yeah, maybe not that, but still… end of an era, might’ve been nice to rent a place, relax for a week.”
Lio turned his head and looked at Meis with confusion. A whole week? It almost made Lio’s skin crawl.
Meis smiled wryly. “Maybe we can work you up to a long weekend.”
Lio would have asked him what he meant, but Gueira appeared on his concrete patio, bags of chips under his arms and packs of lollies fisted in his hands. He didn’t even bother to shut his front door properly before he ran up to Meis’ open window and threw all the snacks at him.
“Oh yes, red frogs!” Meis shouted, sufficiently distracted.
Lio pressed his button ignition and waited for Gueira to get buckled in before he put his car in gear and backed out of the driveway.
“God, I’m so glad this year is over,” Gueira said, with the lassitude of a man who had worked all day, eaten too much salt and then gotten pleasantly drunk.
“Year twelve was bullshit,” Meis replied.
Meis was so right.
“You’re so right,” Lio said. “Pass us the bag.”
Gueira passed the goon bag to Meis who passed it to Lio. Lio held it up and pressed down on the dispenser button. A stream of cheap wine poured into his mouth. Even after applying the flavour-enhancer of inebriation, it still tasted like piss.
“What is this?” Lio slurred.
“I’unno, I threw out the box,” Gueira replied.
Getting drunk on a well-populated beach was a no-no if you didn’t want the cops to come check your identification. For that reason, Lio had researched a number of beaches within an hour of the city that were too small, rocky or otherwise unpretty enough that he and his mates were likely to be the only people there on any given evening. Their favourite was a small, rocky beach to the South, that was forty five minutes away from the nearest police station and not listed on any top ten lists for undiscovered tourist gems that Lio could find.
But it didn’t matter how ugly it was, if they could make a little Burnish fire there, listen to the waves break against the shore and get absolutely shitfaced.
“Guys,” Meis said. “Guys!”
“What?” Gueira asked.
“We did it, like, we really did it. We made it.”
“Yeah!” Lio said.
“No more school!” Gueira crowed.
“There’s uni,” Lio replied.
“Yeah, but when I went to the Promepolis Tech open day, I saw the advertisement for the electrical engineering society and the photo of their president was him passed out drunk in a kiddie pool,” Gueira said. “So I think I’m okay with it.”
“Wow, engineers can get away with anything,” Meis said.
Meis held his hand out and Lio passed him the goon bag.
“Who’da thought we’d get through all that shit, hey?” Lio said.
“So many essays,” Gueira added.
“I can’t remember anything I learned for the HSC,” Meis said.
Gueira held out his hand and received the goon bag, as was good and right. He drank deeply, then pulled away with a loud sigh, Ah!
“You know what,” Gueira said, admantantly. “You know what?”
“What?” Lio and Meis asked.
“There’s a lot of stuff that… that I won’t miss,” Gueira said.
“Yeah?” Lio and Meis said.
“Like Damien,” Gueira spat. “He was a prick. Won’t miss him.”
“I hated that guy, what a dickhead,” Meis said.
Smarmy Damien Peters, who had pulled on Lio’s pigtails from their first day at highschool. From the very first hour, when he thought it’d be funny to-
Lio didn’t want to think about it.
“My mum hates his mum,” Lio replied.
“Generational conflict,” Gueira said. “Into it.”
“Damien had like, a whole crew of arseholes,” Meis said.
“They all had really annoying smiles,” Lio replied. “I think they went to the same dentist.”
“My dentist has raspberry flavoured fluoride foam,” Gueira said.
“Is it good?”
“Heaps good.”
Lio’s dentist didn’t have raspberry flavoured fluoride foam. That wasn’t fair at all.
“Who else was in that crew again?” Meis asked.
“What crew?” Gueira replied.
“Damien’s crew.”
“I can’t remember any of those people,” Lio said. “They all blended into a beige morass of mediocrity.”
“Don’t talk to me like that when I’m drunk, Lio!” Gueira cried. “You promised!”
“Sorry.”
They laid back silently for a moment. The wind blew in cooly off the coast, but the little fire they’d made in the sand kept them warm. Lio could feel the flames, his and Meis and Gueira’s, flickering peacefully, at the edge of his awareness. It was comfortable. Gueira’s mum had even bought them all little inflatable pillows from the reject shop so their necks wouldn’t get sore.
“I think I remember one other guy? Harris… Harris Farm?” Meis asked.
“That’s a grocery store,” Lio replied.
“His girlfriend was alright though,” Meis added. “She broke up with him.”
“Dunno her,” Lio said.
“I think I know who you mean,” Gueira said, his voice becoming more sure as he spoke. “She was…”
He held his hands over his chest, then stretched them out. Then he stretched them out some more. Lio reached over Meis’ body and smacked him.
“Respect women, dickhead,” Lio said.
“I do though!” Gueira said. “You can respect women and also notice when they have really big ones. That looked nice, I think.”
“Yeah they were nice,” Meis concurred.
“Am I gonna have to show you those videos again?” Lio asked.
Lio had curated a short series on intersectional feminism.
“No,” Gueira said, mulishly.
“Maybe,” Meis said, also mulishly.
There was another moment of quiet.
“You guys going to the end of year thing?” Gueira asked.
Lio turned to his side. Gueira was looking up at the stars.
“I’unno,” Meis said. “Prolly should, hey? You’ll be winning a bunch of awards, boss.”
Lio looked back up at the sky before Meis and Gueira could look at him. At the end of every year, their school hosted an awards day. He’d received his invitation in the mail. He’d come top in English, Commerce and Modern History, like he usually did. Maybe something else, tokenistic and club related. He’d slipped the invite back into its envelope and hid it in his desk drawer. He hadn’t told his parents.
He wanted to be acknowledged, but he didn’t want to be seen. Or something like that. He was tired.
“I think I need a nap,” Lio said.
“I’ll get another blanket then,” Gueira offered.
He fell over trying to get up, twice, and wound up crawling his way to Lio’s campout bag.
(4th November, a Monday)
Lio woke up, cotton-brained, with sand in his mouth. At some point during the night, he and Gueira had wrapped themselves around Meis for warmth. They’d stayed that way, though the sun had long since risen. Lio could hear seagulls cawing in the distance and the gentle thump of Meis’ heart beneath his cheek.
“Did we drink any water last night?” Lio asked.
Gueira lazily opened his eyes and then patted down his pockets for his phone. He held it up and brought up his lock screen. His eyes snapped open from drowsy crescents into fearful circles.
“Aw shit I’m late for work,” he said.
“Get my breathalyser,” Lio said. “See if I’m safe to drive.”
“You have a breathalyser?” Gueira asked.
“Safety first,” Lio said.
Between them, Meis snored peacefully.
(5th November, a Tuesday)
Arriving back at work on Tuesday had been jarring. He didn’t want to admit it, but his parents were right about him needing a break. Lio had committed, though, and so he would stick it out.
“I think your elf isn’t doing so well,” Thyma said, three hours into their shift.
Lio had been steadily ignoring Galo, but Thyma’s attention was enough to make him redirect his own. Galo was at the head of the queue for Santa, as always, with a smile on his face and a candy cane in his hand.
“He doesn’t look so bad to me,” Lio said.
Thyma frowned.
“He’s obviously unhappy,” she said. “Maybe you should check in when he comes to get his ice cream later.”
“Who are you talking about?” Gueira asked.
Work had finally picked up enough that they were keeping three of them on shift at a time. Lio liked being able to work with his mates, even if, unfortunately, Adelia had been right and they weren’t very good at their jobs.
“Galo,” Lio said. “The blue-haired elf.”
“Oh, that guy!” Gueira replied. “He came in yesterday too, he asked about you.”
“He did?” Lio asked.
“Looked kind of bummed when you weren’t there.”
“Did he ask for his ridiculous ice cream?” Lio scoffed.
Gueira’s mouth pursed in confusion.
“What ice cream? He just left when he found you weren’t here,” Gueira replied. “Told me to say ‘hi’, which I clearly forgot to do.”
Lio felt his heart skip a beat.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you out,” Thyma said.
“What?” Lio said.
“You got that feeling from him?” Gueira said. “He seemed to have a sort of artless hetero vibe when I talked to him.”
“You mustn’t be his type.”
“I’m everyone’s type!” Gueira said, nettled.
“How about we get back to work,” Lio said, ready for the conversation to end.
Thyma gave him a pitying look, which probably counted as insubordination. She took her place at the hotdog warmer before he could call her out about it. Gueira looked around for bystanders and then unsubtly stole a smartie from the trimming case. He ate it with all evidence of satisfaction.
“You’re not allowed to do that,” Lio said.
“It’s okay,” Gueira replied. “Cronyism will save me.”
Three thirty pm was the start of cactus hour. It was right after school got out, so any parent who was with their kid at the mall, was there under duress. The increased density of tired, noisy children, roaming packs of teenagers, and frustrated adults made for an overall unpleasant experience. Lio had once been a tired, noisy child and then a teenager in a roaming pack, so he was aware that there was some hypocrisy in his judgment. He did not particularly care.
Adelia’s cynicism was infecting him and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
The three of them split the work between them, Thyma handling hot food and Meis managing ice cream. Lio took the interminable line that was forming in front of the stand. It was better than being bored, but the work backed up when they had multiple customers making big orders. Lio could see Thyma becoming flustered.
“Here’s your howlin’ dog with onion and your mini-dog with tomato sauce and mustard, sir,” she said, holding out an order to a man in a tailored suit.
“I asked for a Howlin’ dog with caramelised onions,” the man replied.
“I’m sorry, sir, we don’t sell caramelised onions, we only have fresh onions,” Thyma replied, apologetically.
“Then why wasn’t I told that when I ordered in the first place?”
Lio’s blood went cold, then hot. He’d taken that order and the guy certainly hadn’t specified. He was speaking to another customer now, and he couldn’t step away until it was finished, or he’d risk pissing someone else off.
“Ummm,” the customer before him said. “Do you guys do thickshakes…”
“We offer thickshakes in chocolate, choc-mint, strawberry, vanilla and caramel.” As it said on the menu board.
“Ugh, so many calories…”
“We also offer regular shakes with skim milk and diet syrup.”
“Yeah but that shit’ll kill you,” the customer said.
The man to the side of him, in front of Thyma only grew louder. Lio’s anger built, thwarted and helpless. The flame within him sputtered. Grew.
“How are you going to make this up to me?” the man said.
“I can arrange a refund for you,” Thyma said, wilting before him.
She made the mistake of turning away from him.
“Hey, don’t you roll your eyes at me,” the man said.
Meis grabbed Lio by the shoulder.
“Switch out, we need you on this one, I’ll rip his throat out,” Meis whispered.
“Thanks,” Lio replied, already moving.
His fire was going to come out, bright and furious, intimidating and useless, in front of so many people. Lio was sick of control. This man didn’t have the right. How dare he?
“I’m sorry, I promise I wasn’t.” Thyma had tears in her eyes.
“Sir—” Lio said.
“Hey, Mr Fex, how are you?”
And then Galo was there, in all his Christmas elfish glory. Mr Fex flinched, the wind cut from his sails. The furious blaze in Lio’s chest died out.
“Um, excuse me?” Mr Fex said.
“I went to school with your daughter,” Galo said. “Remember? We both took metalwork together.”
“Hi, Galo,” Mr Fex’s child said.
“Hey, Nigel,” Galo said, with a little wave. “How you doing, buddy?”
“I’m well.”
“You excited for Christmas?”
“Galo, I don’t have time for this,” Mr Fex said.
“Oh yeah, totally,” Galo said, agreeably. “Super busy time of year, everyone’s worked off their feet.”
“Look—”
“But it’s the season for giving and all that, got to look out for your fellow man, and people of other genders.”
Galo’s smile could have cut glass. Mr Fex’s face had gone bright red.
“How dare you,” Mr Fex hissed.
“Santa’s always watching, Mr Fex,” Galo said. “He’s right over there.”
Galo pointed and Santa was indeed watching from his grotto. He looked bigger than usual, his arms straining the Santa outfit with a bulk that definitely hadn’t come about by being jolly. Santa had a paternally disapproving expression on his face.
A soft wave of laughter passed through the crowd huddled around the hotdog stand. Mr Fex’s face went even darker.
“I will be making a complaint to your manager,” Mr Fex said, anger wavering through his embarrassment.
“No worries, my name is Galo Thymos and our headquarters are at the North Pole,” Galo said.
There was that smattering of laughter again. Mr Fex growled threateningly, but still turned on his heel and strode off. The crowd made a noticeable space for him, so no one had to touch him. Nigel had to run after him to keep up.
Galo held out a fist at hip height as the boy ran past. Nigel returned the bump with a weak smile as he left.
“Take care, Nige,” Galo said, quietly.
“You too, Galo,” Nigel replied.
“That was amazing,” a woman in the crowd said.
“Yeah, wow,” a teenage girl added, somewhat breathily.
“You okay, Thyma?” Galo asked, concern heavy in his voice.
Thyma nodded, but a sniffle worked its way past her wobbling lips. Lio put a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into it.
“Thanks, Galo,” she said, voice trembling.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied.
“Go take a break,” Lio said. “As long as you need.”
Thyma nodded again. She gave Galo a watery smile before ducking off to the back of the stand. Galo gave Lio a little salute and turned back towards the grotto.
“Wait!” Lio said.
Galo stopped and turned back.
“Come back after your shift,” Lio said. “I’ll make you another stupid ice cream.”
Galo smiled brighter than a hundred-watt bulb.
“Sure thing,” he said.
He waved again and walked off. Lio’s heart beat idiosyncratically in his chest.
“I can’t believe I’m this hot for an elf,” the teenage girl said.
Lio looked at her, mouth open.
“You should hit that,” she added.
“Way to ruin the moment, Cindy,” the girl next to her replied.
Five came and the grotto shut down for the day. Lio looked for him, but Galo didn’t reappear. He felt a cold disappointment bloom in his chest. There could have been any reason why Galo didn’t come back, whether he had something else crop up, or he forgot, or simply didn’t want to come. Lio still felt an unexpectedly powerful sense of disappointment. He’d wanted to see him.
The crowd dispersed by six and he and Meis started to pack up. He’d let Thyma go early, happier shouldering the increased workload than making her power through after the afternoon she’d had.
Meis poked Lio in the shoulder as he wiped down the blenders.
“What?” Lio asked.
“Hey, look,” Meis replied, a Cheshire smile on his lips.
Lio turned, and there Galo was, a bag of candy teeth held in his hand.
“So, I know you’re closed,” he said. “But is there any way you could do me a solid?”
Lio laughed, a warm thing that moved his body with it.
“Sure thing,” Lio replied.
Notes:
The teal flames come from @aiden_sheith's meta about Burnish flames. Thank you for your permission to use this wonderful idea!
So very many thanks to the wonderful Morgothikarp for both betaing this story and also creating that absolutely cracker news image with Scott Morrisson and a sink hole. Thank you so much!
Easy_yase drew the absolutely delightful illustration of Galo and Princess Batman, and also of Lio in his hat, and I am so happy, I could die!
Content note: The Morrison joke is a reference to the PM of Australia going to vacation in Hawaii while we were on fire at the end of 2019.
Chapter Text
They walked to the bus stop together, Galo with his Agro cone and Lio with a milkshake that he’d made and taken without paying for. Meis had already absconded with his hat, because he had to run “errands”.
He’d even said it that way, his fingers held up like quotation marks. “Errands”.
“Thanks for today,” Lio said.
“Any time, no one likes a bully,” Galo replied.
He licked his cone and his tongue was very soft and pink.
“Are you worried about your job?” Lio asked, concerned.
Galo sighed. “Yeah, a little, but the boss has known me for a long time and he likes me. I don’t think one complaint will wipe me out.”
“That guy was a complete asshole,” Lio hissed. “How does anyone put up with him?”
“Mrs Fex is good people, I think they’re in couples counselling?”
“How do you even know that?” Lio asked.
Galo tilted his head from side to side, lips pursed.
“People tell me things,” Galo said.
The walked a little further, their pace slowing organically as they talked. Lio felt a pang of disappointment when they made it to the shelter. Beside him, Galo shifted on his feet a little.
“So, what bus do you take home?” Galo asked.
“370, but it doesn’t come for a while,” Lio said. “You?”
“That one,” Galo pointed to a 480 bus.
“Guess it’s time to say goodbye,” Lio said, trying not to sound disappointed.
“Yeah but…” Galo coughed. “I haven’t finished my ice cream. Can’t get on the bus with ice cream.”
It was starting to melt down the side of the cone. Galo held it up and followed a drip with his tongue, still pink, still soft-looking. He licked the edge of the cone to catch the rest of the melted bits. Lio could not look away.
“Maybe we can wait together,” Lio said, slowly.
Galo smiled. His eyes were the blue of the evening sea.
“That’d be nice,” he replied.
Lio’s chest hurt, like a galaxy had come into being, right behind his sternum, too big for his body to contain.
(6th November, a Wednesday)
Galo wasn’t at work the next day. Instead there was a tall, green-haired elf with glasses. Lio tried to quell his rising panic. Galo had lost his job defending Thyma when Lio should have done it himself. Lio didn’t need his job, didn’t like his job. It wouldn’t have mattered if it were him.
He hadn’t even asked for Galo’s number. He couldn’t apologise.
One hour into his shift, Aina, the pink-haired elf, ducked over to the hotdog stand. The bells on her shoes tinkled as she walked. Thyma blushed prettily as Aina walked over to the register.
“Can I borrow Lio for a minute?” Aina said.
Thyma nodded, speech seemingly having fled her. Lio joined her at the counter.
“Is Galo okay?” he asked, feeling all the more tense for having the answer close at hand.
Aina nodded, to his heart-dropping relief.
“Don’t worry, he just took the day off,” she said. “He wanted to make himself scarce in case Mr Fex decided to be an asshole in person.”
Thyma flinched.
“Hey, I’m really sorry that happened to you,” Aina said. “That wasn’t on.”
“Thanks,” Thyma said.
“I’m Aina, by the way.”
“Thyma.”
It was very cute and all, Thyma smiling bashfully and Aina leaning in closer over the counter, but Lio had his own agenda.
“Could you give Galo my number?” Lio asked, breaking their reverie. “I forgot to get it off him yesterday. I wanted to thank him again.”
Aina gave him a friendly, amused look.
“Give me your number and I’ll text it to you,” she said.
Lio’s cheeks felt a little heated, but he manfully ignored it.
“Thank you,” he said.
When he got home that night, he had a string of messages from an unknown number. There was a trail of textspeak and emojis, culminating in a photo of Galo, sweaty and glowing, wearing a tank top in the Promepolis botanical garden.
“Went for a run, thanks for checking in!” the final message said.
Lio collapsed onto his bed, phone clutched to his chest. His heart was a pounding drum.
“Oh,” he said.
With shaking fingers, he typed out a reply. He took a deep breath and reread it, before tapping send.
Wand to get coffee tomorrow?
He saw the misspelling one second after he’d sent it.
That would be magic! Galo replied, one minute later.
(7th November a Thursday)
Lio woke up early the next day. He spent half an hour choosing his clothes, even though he knew he’d just have to change into his uniform later. He flicked through his short-sleeve button ups and rejected the ones that were too dark, too old or too loose. He settled on a cotton green and blue check that managed to flatter his hair while bringing out his eyes. He chose a pair of form-fitting white shorts, that had enough length to make him look like he wasn’t on a beach trip.
He set out a pair of tan loafers and his black Havaianas and took five minutes to decide which would pair better. Did he want to be preppy or cas’?
He picked up his phone and called Gueira.
“Boss?” Gueira said.
He sounded sleepy. Lio looked at his phone and realised it was only seven o’clock.
“Am I calling too early?” Lio asked.
“Never too early for you, Boss,” Gueira said. “What’s the emergency?”
“I need to pick a pair of shoes for today,” Lio replied.
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment.
“Is this about a boy?” Gueira asked, slyly.
“No,” Lio said.
Gueira didn’t say anything.
“Yes,” Lio admitted, mulishly.
“You know I’m always here for you, Boss, send me a photo,” Gueira replied.
Lio took a photo, wilfully ignoring the newly realised obviousness of his crush. Gueira hummed to himself as he waited for the picture to load. There was a ping. Gueira was silent for a moment longer.
“Loafers will look better, but you should wear the thongs so you don’t look over-dressed,” Gueira decided, finally.
“You think?” Lio said.
“Yeah, he’s not going to be as dressed up as you and even with his self-esteem, it’d feel pretty crappy to look like Cinderella before the ball when Prince Charming’s already showed up.”
“What?” Lio said.
“You’re meeting Hotstuff, right? The elf?”
“You call him Hotstuff?” Lio asked.
“Hotstuff 2, if we’re being honest,” Gueira said. “The pink elf is Hotstuff 1.”
“Her name is Aina,” Lio said, a little reprovingly.
“Pardon me, Aina is Hotstuff 1.”
“Go back to sleep.” Lio rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Good luck, try to get a pash in,” Gueira said.
“Bye, Gueira,” Lio replied, tapping the call-end button with force.
He held the loafers in his hand for a moment, his contrary streak rearing its head. He wasn’t entirely sure what Gueira meant. Did he think Galo wasn’t as interested as Lio had just realised he was? Galo always wore the same hoodie everywhere. Maybe he just wasn’t a creative dresser.
God, maybe he was straight.
Lio put the loafers aside. He left the house with his uniform in a leather satchel and thongs on his feet.
The coffeeshop that Galo had chosen was outside the mall, but within easy walking distance. It was a little café, a bit shabby looking, but it was absolutely packed with customers. The people of Promepolis would overlook a little flash in the name of good coffee.
“Hey, Lio!”
Lio turned towards the voice. Galo bound over to him, grinning widely, worn-out thongs slapping against the pavement. He was wearing peach-coloured shorts and a striped tank top, the uniform of hot gay men everywhere. He had a ratty backpack over his shoulder. His arms were amazing.
Lio felt a moment of incredible thanks towards Gueira. He really would have looked like a dickhead if he’d shown up in leather shoes with Galo dressed so casually.
“Thanks for meeting me before your shift,” Galo said.
“It’s fine, I get up early anyway,” Lio said.
“Oh, cool,” Galo replied, a hand coming up to brush through his own hair.
A cold feeling bloomed in Lio’s stomach. He wasn’t inciting conversation. He needed to say something, anything.
“This place looks nice,” Lio said. “What do you recommend?”
“That’s way too hard!” Galo replied. “Everything’s good here.”
They joined the line, already halfway out the door. It was quiet enough to hear each-other while they were outside.
“What do you usually have?” Lio asked.
“Black coffee,” Galo said.
Lio’s lip curled back in a feigned grimace.
“But it’s so bitter!” he said.
“It gets you going in the morning!” Galo said.
“At what cost?” Lio replied.
Galo laughed, his eyes turning up into little crescents. Lio felt a little spark of pride over having caused it.
“I used to work here, actually,” Galo said, as they took a few steps forward in the line.
“You were a barista?”
“Baristo!” Galo said, with a little chuckle at his own joke. “Nah, they sell pizza after lunch and I’d do deliveries on my bike if they were close enough. Tips were so bad though, I had to find something else.”
Lio’s cheeks warmed. He never tipped. Most people in Promepolis didn’t. Waiters had the same pay rates as anyone else did, he presumed delivery people did too.
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Lio said.
Galo held his hand out parallel to the ground and rocked it side to side, so so.
“The owner is a pretty cool guy, so he paid me above the award, but rates are a lot lower when you’re under eighteen, you know how it is,” Galo said. “It’s cool you’re a manager though, I bet that pays a lot better!”
“The main advantage is the hat,” Lio replied.
Galo laughed again. He had a nice laugh.
They finally made it inside, the shop bell tinkling as they opened the door. The tables were packed, filled with students on laptops and casually dressed people in their workout gear. Men and women in suits lingered near the pickup area, one running off every time a name was called. A quiet-looking man was running the register, moving through the orders with admirable efficiency. Lio felt an unexpected urge to poach him for the stand.
“Hey Marco,” Galo said when it was his turn. “My usual please!”
Marco’s customer service smile turned real when he saw Galo. It lessened a little when he nodded at Lio, but it was still warm. Lio felt a little burst from the flame inside him, his fire calling out for an answer. Marco’s expression turned considering.
“Nice to meet you,” Marco said.
He held his hand up casually, his thumb pressed over his index and middle finger. Lio mirrored it.
“You too,” he replied.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“Latte, please.” Lio placed a keep-cup on the counter between them.
Galo looked between the two of them consideringly but didn’t say anything. Galo pulled his wallet out only for Marco to wave him away. Galo frowned at him.
“On the house,” Marco said.
“Come on,” Galo said, holding out ten dollars.
“I’m sure you’re due for a freebie,” Marco replied.
Galo glared at him and tucked the ten dollars into the tip jar. Lio’s eyes widened.
“You’re terrible at accepting gifts,” Marco called out, as Galo moved away from the counter.
“La la la, not listening,” Galo replied.
“How much is mine?” Lio asked, amused, if confused as well.
“No worries, you’re with him,” Marco replied. “He’s a good guy, so you know.”
Lio nodded, a little surprised.
“He is, thanks,” Lio replied.
The crowd around the pickup area had only grown denser. Lio had to press past a woman in athleisure gear to get back to Galo again. It was finally too loud to talk properly, but Galo bumped their shoulders together happily, and it felt like a conversation.
“Order for Galo and his boyfriend!” a man with a booming voice cried, over the din.
Galo slipped through to the counter at speed, his ears red. The lady in athleisure gear made an audible “aww” sound as he brushed past her.
“Shut uppp,” Galo hissed, at the man behind the counter.
The man held his hand up and whispered something that made Galo’s cheeks turn neon red. Galo grabbed their coffees and ran off as quickly as someone could, while trying to move through a crowd politely.
“Be good!” the man yelled. “Come back soon!”
“No!” Galo shouted, without looking back.
Lio followed in Galo’s wake. Galo stopped to check he was there once they were out the door and afterwards avoided eye contact even while passing Lio his coffee. Lio took a sip.
“It’s good,” Lio said. “Full-bodied. Nice aroma.”
Galo turned towards him, a nervous manner to him that Lio had never seen before. It was reassuring in a way Lio hadn’t expected. He wasn’t the only one that had been hoping.
“This is a date,” Lio said.
Galo opened his mouth. Galo then closed his mouth. He nodded.
“Hold my hand,” Lio said.
He held out his left hand between them. Galo had to switch the hand holding his cup, so he could thread their fingers together. As if a switch had flipped, Galo’s entire body loosened. He chuckled a little.
“This is nice,” Galo said, almost bashful.
Lio smiled at him. While he couldn’t see himself, he had the feeling that he was looking exceptionally dopey. Galo smiled back, teeth flashing, before he looked away. They walked towards the mall, hands swinging between them.
“So, I’m guessing this is the end of your final year too?” Galo said.
“Yes, I finished my exams two weeks ago. I went to Promepolis Grammar, up the road.”
“With the boater hats?” Galo asked, with amusement.
Lio rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, with the boater hats,” he said. “I set mine on fire, after the last day.”
Lio felt a moment of unexpected fear, when he realised what he’d said, but Galo didn’t seem to be bothered.
“My group wanted to have a bonfire for stuff when everyone finished their exams,” Galo said. “But it was too hot, so I got us to borrow Ignis’ woodchipper and make confetti.”
“Ignis?” Lio asked.
“Oh man, you haven’t met Ignis yet?” Galo said. “He’s great, he’s the head Santa.”
“Head Santa?”
“Yeah, we have two. Ignis is the main one, but he’s training Varys up for it as well. I’m surprised you couldn’t tell; Varys is buff.”
Lio realised that he had actually noticed a difference, he just hadn’t internalised it.
“Wait, was Varys working on Tuesday?” Lio asked.
“Yeah!” Galo replied.
“It was good of him to step away from the Santa throne and back you up.”
“He’s a big softy, he doesn’t like bullies any more than I do. I think Thyma reminds him of his little sister, as well. He was a bit upset after.”
Lio felt a softness in his heart.
“A good Santa should be empathetic,” Lio said.
“I’m really lucky to work with these guys, they really stood up for me when Mr Fex’s complaint came through.”
Lio’s hand tightened around Galo’s. The flame inside him built again.
“Are you going to be okay?” Lio asked.
Galo nodded, but his expression had turned tight.
“I’m kind of on thin ice, Mr Fex complained to the department store, not Ignis… so I’m lucky I have a job at all.” Galo sighed. “I can’t get any more complaints.”
“That’s infuriating,” Lio said.
Galo shrugged. “What can you do? I just have to hope for the best, I really need this job.”
Lio wanted to ask him why, what could be so important, but he got the feeling that it would be too intrusive. Instead he squeezed Galo’s hand supportively.
“Let me know if anyone gives you any trouble,” Lio said. “I’ll take them out for you.”
Galo chuckled. “For sure,” he said.
Lio meant every word.
“Well, I better get ready for my shift,” Galo said, once they’d made their way to David Jones. “Those pointy ears won’t put themselves on.”
“I have to mentally prepare for my hat,” Lio replied.
“Ha,” Galo said. “You’re so funny.”
Quick as a rabbit, Galo ducked down and pressed a kiss to Lio’s cheek. His lips were soft, just a little wet in a way that sent an unexpected bolt of lightning down Lio’s spine. Lio’s breath hitched in his chest.
Galo smiled cheekily at him.
“I’ll text you,” he said, before he strode off into the clothing stacks.
“Buh,” Lio replied.
(9th November, a Saturday)
On Saturday, Mr Fex came back.
He was wearing a T-shirt dedicated to AC/DC with a pair of stone-washed jeans. His previously imperious manner had been replaced by something significantly more brow-beaten. A bored-looking teenage girl was walking beside him, a lollypop poking out of the side of her mouth. Thyma was, unfortunately, working and went still as a deer under headlights at the sight of him. Lio stalked up to the point of service and stood beside her. She seemed to relax a little, but Lio was hardly going to take any chances.
“Thyma, would you mind checking the ice cream machine?” Lio asked.
“Oii, can she wait just one minute,” the other girl said, with a nasally voice. “My dad has something to say.”
Mr Fex grumbled something under his breath. The girl tugged on a pink lock of hair that sat alongside her fringe and pulled the lollypop out of her mouth with her free hand.
“I can’t hear you,” she said.
“Lucia, do I have to do this?” Mr Fex asked.
“If you want to get any of your digital anything back again, yes,” Lucia replied.
Thyma blinked slowly. Lio looked between the two of them carefully.
“I’m your father,” Mr Fex said weakly. “You should show me more respect.”
“You shouldn’t try to get my friends fired from their jobs,” Lucia said.
“Lucia…”
“Mum really likes Galo,” Lucia said. “She thinks he needs mothering.”
Mr Fex was silent.
“I also really like Galo,” Lucia said.
“I like him too,” Thyma said, softly.
“I like you and Galo,” Lio said.
Thyma smiled warmly and Lio returned it with something quieter, but equally sincere.
“You know what to do,” Lucia said, before she popped her lollypop back in her mouth.
“I’m sorry for being so rude the other day,” Mr Fex said.
Lucia rolled her hand forward a few times.
“I should be more polite to people and read their menus properly.”
Lucia kept rolling.
“I was unnecessarily aggressive and will work on that.”
Lucia clicked her fingers.
“I do not expect you to accept this apology, I only wished to let you know that I regret my actions and will not repeat them.”
“Good job, Dad,” Lucia said, her voice marbled around the lollypop. “Maybe Mum will let you back in the house before Christmas.”
Mr Fex closed his eyes tight and sighed.
“Can you release my documents from your ransomware, now?” he asked.
“Not before you apologise to Santa and all his elves, too,” Lucia replied.
Mr Fex turned and walked off towards the Grotto. It was early yet, and the line was not long, so he was immediately met by a very angry-looking Aina and an equally unimpressed Santa. It was the marginally smaller Santa, so Lio assumed he must be Ignis. Galo was behind them, his expression determined but unhappy.
Lio watched him, the flame in his chest fluttering.
“I am really sorry about my dad,” Lucia said, jarring Lio out of his attention.
“It’s not your fault,” Thyma replied.
“Yeah, well, maybe if I’d raised him better,” Lucia said. “I hear you’re not supposed to use negative reinforcement with children, but I’m at my wits’ end here.”
“This is rude, but why does your mother put up with him?” Lio asked, still vicariously angry.
Lucia shrugged. “He does chores without complaining?”
Lio didn’t know what to say to that.
“Here’s my card,” Lucia said, sliding a little cardboard square across the counter. “You need anything, software, revenge, robots… you give me a call.”
“Revenge?” Thyma said, quietly horrified but still taking the card in hand.
“Especially revenge,” Lucia replied.
She turned on her heel and followed her father over to the world’s most festive upbraiding.
“I think I should throw this out,” Thyma said.
Lio put his hand over hers.
“Keep it,” Lio said. “You never know when you’ll need it.”
Lio looked up as Galo turned towards him. Their eyes met across the divide between hotdog stand and Grotto. Galo smiled weakly. Lio returned it, with a nod of solidarity.
Lio pointed towards Mr Fex and then smacked his fist into his open hand. Galo’s smile turned a little brighter.
“I’ll take on food prep,” Thyma said, her voice far away.
“Yeah, sure,” Lio replied.
He didn’t look away from the Grotto until Mr Fex and his daughter left.
(11th November, a Monday)
“You want to go to the movies, tomorrow night?” Galo asked, over the phone.
Lio looked up at his ceiling, hands wrapped tight around his pillow.
“I have to go to an event with my parents,” Lio said, disappointment blatant in his voice.
“Oooh, an event!” Galo cooed.
“Shut up!” Lio laughed. “I really would rather go out with you.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
Lio couldn’t help but laugh more.
“I’m a serious catch!” Galo said. “I can reach the high shelf at the supermarket…”
“Galo…” Lio chuckled.
“I can open tight jars, I can juggle…”
“I really like you,” Lio said.
He heard Galo’s breath hitch in his throat.
“Yeah,” Galo replied, his voice shaky. “I really like you too.”
(12th November, a Tuesday)
Lio combed his hair and put on his suit and prepared himself to spend an entire evening dead inside. As an act of mild resistance, he put on the cufflinks he’d bought that resembled little Burnish flames.
“Oh,” his mother said, as they walked out the door. “Those are… nice.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to wear the ones we bought you for your graduation?” His father asked.
“They’d match the suit better,” his mother added.
“I like them,” Lio replied.
“Of course,” his father said. “Yes, of course.”
The only good thing about his parent’s parties was the unrestricted alcohol. Nobody pulled him up for nursing a glass of champagne. The wine he drank from a bottle was less of a concern than the wine he drank from a bag. Apparently.
“Our Damien is applying for law at the University of Promepolis,” said Hawthorn Peters, a solicitor Lio was passingly familiar with, who had a competing practice against his mother.
“How wonderful,” his mother replied. “Our Lio just received his early acceptance there, for Law and Political Science, it would be lovely if they could share some classes!”
Lio took a sip of his champagne and looked at the crown moulding on the other side of the ballroom. Damien Peters was standing in front of Governor Foresight, with a grin full of smarm and a nose so far up Foresight’s ass, it was shocking that it wasn’t brown. That set the tone for most of his parent’s events.
“Oh, I hear they do that for diverse students,” Hawthorn said, her voice like an oil slick.
“It’s judged blind,” Lio said. “They go off your mid-year marks and your state rank.”
Lio’s mother smiled with barely hidden pride as Hawthorn failed to summon a rejoinder.
“I don’t think it’s a good system, of course,” Lio added. “Not very equitable.”
He looked Hawthorn in the eye, as placid as a lake before the crocodile lunged out. Her eyes flicked down, from his shoes up to his face again. He took another sip of his champagne. Part of him desperately wanted to press his luck.
Just what, exactly, is so diverse about me?
But he didn’t want to embarrass his mother, so he didn’t.
“You must be very proud,” Hawthorn said, as she turned back to his mother.
“I very much am,” his mother replied.
She looped her arm through his and took both of his hands in hers. She’d taken to doing that when they went out together, like a cat tugging its kitten along. It made her happy and she looked so fond that it was easy to overlook how uncomfortable he felt, if only for a moment.
“Sweetheart, would you mind finding your father for me?” his mother said. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “these shoes are killing me.”
“Of course, I’ll be right back.” Lio bussed a kiss against her cheek and stepped away.
His mother tended to do that about once every event that his parents brought him too. It had taken him a while to realise that it was her way of giving him a breath of air. Admittedly, in addition to also wanting his father to come back at some point. Lio took the opportunity to skirt the crowd and search for the balcony entrance.
“Are you ever going to stop being a mama’s boy?”
Lio turned. It was, as he should have expected, Hawthorn’s son, Damien.
“I’m sorry, who are you again?” Lio said.
Damien frowned at him.
“We went to the same school,” he grumbled. “Come on.”
“I vaguely remember,” Lio replied.
“Sometimes I think you want to get punched,” Damien said.
“You could try,” Lio said mildly. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”
“What, would your boyfriend beat me up?”
Lio removed his phone from his pocket and turned on his lock screen. He held it out so Damien could see.
It was Galo, in the middle of a pull up, the muscles in his arms bulging, his abdominals clenched and shining with sweat.
“Oh,” Damien said. “He would beat me up.”
Lio might not have liked Damien’s political leanings or the poison they represented to Lio’s very being, but the guy knew when he was beat better than his mother did.
“His name’s Galo,” Lio said, magnanimously. “He’s amazing.”
“That name sounds really familiar,” Damien said.
“Maybe you know him from sports,” Lio said.
“Oh yeah?” Damien replied. “What sports?”
“Just a guess really, I have no idea what sports you play.”
Damien looked thwarted.
“I was going to ask if you wanted to come along to the a—”
An arm slapped down on Lio’s shoulder and he manfully resisted a flinch. He doubted he could have, prior to his experiences surviving the bloody trials of food service.
“Lio!” his father said. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Lio turned and found himself face to face with Kray Foresight. The man had a face like a Kabuki mask, eyes always scrunched up, smile wide, like he’d practised looking friendly in a mirror for so long his expression got stuck that way.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Foresight said. “It’s a pleasure to meet such an accomplished young man.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Lio could see Damien’s shoulders droop.
“It’s good to meet you as well, Governor,” Lio lied.
“Kray’s the one who offered you the internship,” his father said. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
Lio’s flame sputtered down to nothing inside him. His body tingled with the cold.
“That’s very generous,” someone said. “Thank you.”
“It’s always good to see young Burnish people engaging in politics,” Foresight said.
Lio wilfully refrained from curling his hands into fists. The circle closed and he finally saw the offer for what it was. Lio had always made it known that he was Burnish, had participated in Burnish events and was somewhat known for it, on a very local and contained level. He had led his school’s debate team with a teal pin on his blazer. He’d started his school’s first Burnish and Allies club, with just himself, Meis and Gueira as the founding members. The Burnish Gazette had written a three paragraph article about their achievement.
Foresight, with his veiled conservatism, wanted a patsy. There was nothing coincidental about the offer.
Lio wanted to throw his drink in Foresight’s face, but they were at a party and his father had tried so hard for him, with a blindness that was increasingly hurtful.
“I think it’s important to be civically engaged, if you can.”
It was that voice again. His voice, as if it came from someone else.
Foresight held out his hand for Lio to shake. Lio took it and then felt a paternal hand fall on his shoulder. His skin crawled. He heard a camera go off and his heart fell.
“I’m looking forward to seeing more of you,” Foresight said.
“Of course.”
Foresight nodded at his father and walked off into the crowd, greeting guests as he passed, smile still wooden and fixed. His father looked absolutely ecstatic. Lio put his hand in his pocket and gripped his phone.
“You’re going to do so well,” his father said, with a manly, sideward hug. “I’m going to go find your mother, you have fun with your friends.”
“Of course,” Lio said.
Damien was still there, a tense, awkward expression on his face. He looked as if he wanted to say something. Lio’s flame came back, small and flickering in his chest.
“Are you… okay?” Damien asked, finally.
“Do you remember, grade seven, first day of school?” Lio said, his voice cool.
“Yes,” Damien replied, quietly.
“Someone let off an airhorn, right near me and my flames came out, in front of everyone.”
Damien didn’t say anything.
“Do you remember what happened after?”
“That was a long time ago,” Damien said.
“I know the sort of people you hang out with, Damien,” Lio said, unable to hide the disgust he felt. “I know what they think and I know what they say, and I don’t think you’re any better.”
“Don’t—”
Lio couldn’t take it out on his father, he couldn’t take it out on Foresight or Hawthorn or any of them, but Damien was right there, and he was too weak and stupid to fight back.
“If Foresight offered you that internship, you’d take it with a smile and you’d let him happen to people like me.”
He knew he’d feel bad about it in the morning, but it wasn’t morning yet.
“I didn’t see you turning it down,” Damien said weakly.
Finally, something approaching a hit.
“You’re right, I’m too big a coward to embarrass my father in front of all of these pricks,” Lio replied. “But at least I’m smart enough to be ashamed of it.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Damien said. He looked fragile.
“And you still want my attention, so badly,” Lio said. “What’s that say about you?”
Lio turned on his heel. He gave up on finding the balcony. He followed a waiter until he hit the service corridor and then he slipped out and down the stairs to the loading dock. No one stopped him. He breathed in the cool night air and the scent of garbage from the dumpsters. He wanted to scream. He was so fucking stupid. He’d let this happen. He had let it happen and he’d done nothing to stop it.
He pulled out his phone. Meis and Gueira were the first people he’d call in a situation like this, but how could he talk to them now? After he’d done this?
Lio opened up his lock screen. There was Galo again, beautiful and perfect, and also connected to Foresight somehow. He’d forgotten about it, he’d ignored it. His flames grew again.
They burst into his hand, electric, their lights illuminating the loading bay and casting eerie shadows against the walls. Harmless, but not beautiful, not when the night had been so ugly.
What was he doing?
He pulled up the text app on his phone. He typed in Galo’s name.
Let’s meet up tomorrow, we need to talk.
He hit send and resisted the urge to scream.
The reply was near-instant.
That makes me feel a little nervous, haha.
Let’s go to the park.
Lio took a deep, unpleasant breath in through his nose, and then let it out.
I’ll see you at eight.
It took Lio half an hour before he could put himself together enough to go back upstairs. He spent the evening as someone else, smiling politely and shaking hands with people he hated.
(13th November, a Wednesday)
“So,” Galo said. “I think it’s fair if I start by asking if you’re breaking up with me.”
The morning was already uncomfortably warm. Galo’s face was pink from the heat.
“I’m Burnish,” Lio said.
Galo blinked.
“I um, thank you for telling me, I kind of already knew? I thought you were ‘out’…” Galo rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.
“What?” Lio said.
“Was that rude?” Galo asked. “I just legit thought you didn’t tell me because it’s not a big deal or anything.”
Lio felt as if the wind had been taken out of his sails. This was not what he’d prepared for and he wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed.
“How did you know?” Lio asked.
Galo shrugged.
“I saw you do the Burnish symbol with Marco.” Galo held his hand up, thumb over two fingers, in the shape of a little flame. “You carry yourself a certain way… like you’re holding something back sometimes.”
It was an uncomfortably astute observation, one that would have offended him normally, but he had asked.
“Also, you work at Hot Dawgs,” Galo concluded.
Lio’s mouth opened in surprise.
“Why does that matter?” Lio asked.
Galo looked confused. “Everyone who works at Hot Dawgs is Burnish.”
Lio was silent.
“You didn’t know?” Galo asked. “I thought you could tell, like your flames know.”
“Most of the time,” Lio said.
The flames ebbed and flowed. Some were stronger, some weaker. Everyone was different.
“Always seemed really nice to me,” Galo mused.
“How do you know this?” Lio asked.
“It’s a bit of an open secret, I suppose. Bosses google people, these days, so it can be tough to get retail jobs when you’re Burnish.”
Lio hadn’t considered that before. He’d always thought in terms of policy and legislation, not something so insidious.
“Adelia was a few years ahead of me in school and she’s been running the stand for a long time,” Galo said. “She kind of put the word out on the down low. There’s a couple people like her, the coffee shop we went to is pretty good that way, the owner takes on people who need the experience.”
“And he took on you,” Lio said.
Galo nodded.
“He gave me my first job,” Galo said.
Lio took a moment to look out and over the trees in the park. He felt foolish, and a little ungrateful. It occurred to him that he’d effectively taken a job from someone who might have needed it more, someone who didn’t want work experience and savings, but had actual bills to pay.
“You look pale,” Galo said.
“I’m feeling a bit stupid,” Lio replied.
“Well that’s silly, you’re the smartest person I know.”
Galo sidled up to him and looped his arm around Lio’s shoulder. Lio leant into the embrace. Galo smelled like soap and body spray. It was nice.
“We’re still together?” Galo said. It was definitely a question.
“Yes, of course,” Lio said. “I was just worried.”
“Is this about last night?” Galo asked.
Lio sighed. “I spent an entire evening surrounded by people who don’t mind having me around because my pedigree is acceptable. They think I agree with them, when all they want is for me to be silent about what I am. There are always snide remarks about affirmative action whenever I achieve anything. I have to be better than all of them, just to get them to fake respect.”
“I’m sorry,” Galo said. “That’s not fair.”
“And the entire time—”
Kray Foresight. He needed to ask Galo about Foresight, or it would eat at him forever.
“How do you know the Governor?” Lio asked.
Galo hummed, quietly.
“I thought maybe you’d know already.”
Lio shook his head.
“When I was a kid, there was this big fire in my house. Came out of nowhere. The Gov pulled me out. Saved my life. The firefighters arrived right after, but they couldn’t get my parents out; fire was too high by then.”
Of all the things Lio had thought Galo might say, he’d never considered that. He turned to look Galo in the eye.
“He doesn’t mention it in his campaigns the way he used to,” Galo said. “They kept my name out of the papers at the time, because I was a minor. I just turned eighteen though, so, it comes up in interviews now.”
Lio had always avoided anything to do with Foresight’s campaign material. It made his gorge rise. He was frustrated enough keeping up with the man’s politics. He should have been paying more attention.
“The Gov’s super busy, so I only really get to see him when he’s doing an event or something.”
An ugly, unnamed feeling rose in Lio’s chest, aimed entirely at Kray Foresight.
“I wish I could see him more, I’m really grateful to him.”
Lio wrapped his arms around Galo’s chest and buried his face in his neck.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Lio said.
Galo returned the embrace, shifted his body, so they could be closer. He hid his nose in Lio’s hair.
“Do I… do Burnish flames bother you? Given everything…”
Galo shook his head.
“It’s not the same at all,” he said.
Lio swallowed down his own sorry feelings, his regret for having judged Galo without asking him and for prompting him to disclose something he might not have been ready for. Lio felt short-sighted and foolish. He’d torn Damien to shreds the night before for his complacency, but Lio didn’t know everanything either. He hadn’t cared to learn.
He would be better, he promised himself. He would be good, to Galo, who so abundantly deserved it.
“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Lio said.
“If I could make a request,” Galo said. “Maybe next time don’t tell me something along the lines of ‘we need to talk’. I had to go for a run last night just to calm down.”
Lio laughed, lightly.
“I promise,” he replied.
That day, before his shift started, Lio looked at Thyma and held his hand up, in the flame symbol. She blushed, her expression uncomfortable, but she returned the gesture.
“I’m sorry for not noticing before,” Lio said.
Thyma shook her head.
“My flames aren’t very strong,” she said. “Most people can’t tell. I’m barely Burnish at all.”
Lio straightened his back, reflexively angry for her. “That’s not true. That doesn’t matter.”
“It does to some people.” Thyma laced her fingers together, fiddling nervously.
“Not to me,” Lio said.
Thyma nodded, but she didn’t look like she believed him. It was unacceptable.
“Come out with Meis, Gueira and me,” he said, firmly. “We go to the beach sometimes, make bonfires; eat marshmallows and drink goon.”
“I don’t drink,” Thyma replied.
“You don’t have to drink, just come, bring a friend. We'll make a Burnish fire. It’s pretty. You’d like it.”
“Maybe,” Thyma said, and if she didn’t sound convinced, she didn’t sound so downhearted anymore, either.
“Thanks,” Lio said. “That’d be great.”
She smiled at him, in the soft way she often did, and it made him feel a little better. It was something.
Notes:
Alrighty, this isn't getting done today but I'll have it finished very soon. This got a lot longer than I planned!
I will also have to come back at some point and add in images... didn't have anything good for this chapter!Adorable image of the boys by Kiichi.
Content note: Lio wouldn't be taking a bus like the 370, I actually think of him as living somewhere similar to Elizabeth Bay or Potts Point. I don't know why I chose the 370 line. It's the worst fucking busline in existence. I have bonded with strangers over how bad that bus is.
Chapter Text
(16th November, a Saturday)
(18th November, a Monday)
Lio locked the hotdog stand and passed his hat to Meis, who had won the coin toss that morning. They’d had a rare shift where all three of them were working at the same time. Adelia had grown complacent. None of them had an early start the next day, so they’d decided to grab a lift in Gueira’s ancient Holden Astra (this car is older than I am, Gueira had told them, with reverence) and drink beer in Gueira’s above-ground pool until his mum got home and told them to stop it.
“I got an email last night from BAP,” the Burnish Alliance Promepolis group, “They’re getting geared up for the Summer festival. They asked me to help manage the first aid stand this year. You guys want to help out?”
“Always down for a festival,” Meis said.
“I like helping out at those things, count me in,” Gueira said.
“Great,” Lio said. “I’ll send you the link and let them know you’re coming.”
The Burnish Summer Festival was an event they’d all been attending and volunteering at since they were fifteen. There were educational stalls and NGO pop ups, but it was a social event for the most part. There was food and face-painting for the kids and live music for young people and adults. One year Peter Garrett had turned up, which was sort of ironic but still enjoyable.
Lio had been participating for long enough and with enough enthusiasm that they trusted him to take on a more important role. He was very happy about it.
“I’ve sent the link to Thyma and Adelia, too,” Lio said. “I think Thyma will probably come.”
“Hey, you know who else you should ask?” Meis said, with a click of his fingers. “Galo! I bet he has first aid training.”
“I feel like they make you do that if you work with kids,” Gueira added.
“So fragile.”
“So full of potential, and food allergies.”
“You’d want him to come?” Lio asked, tentatively touched by their approval.
“Yeah, I know it’s the honeymoon period and all—”
Meis made smoochy faces over Gueira’s shoulder.
“But it’d be nice to get to know him, you know?” Gueira said.
“Yeah, we’d introduce you to our girlfriends or personfriends or whatever,” Meis said.
“If we had them.”
“Yeah, if we had them.”
“Which we don’t.”
They looked unbothered by this fact of their lives. Lio couldn’t help but grin at them, they were a walking two-man comedy routine, but no one had his back like they did.
“Oh, what date is it though?” Gueira asked. “My third cousin’s christening is on the fourteenth.”
Lio felt a burst of disappointment. “It actually is on the fourteenth, unfortunately,” he said.
Gueira pursed his lips for a moment, deep in thought.
“That’s okay, I didn’t want to go anyway,” he said. “Last time I went to one they asked everyone if they promised to renounce Satan and all his works and I’m not sure I’m ready for that sort of commitment, you know?”
“Wow, that’s hardcore,” Meis said.
“The statues are always pretty gnarly, too, at St. Patrick’s cathedral they have one up high that’s an angel stabbing a snake.”
“I think that’s Saint Michael,” Lio said.
“Aesthetic,” Meis replied.
They walked through the perfume section like always, Lio having earned the respectful disregard of the perfume girls and thus the right to pass by unmolested. As they threaded their way past the intimates section and towards the lift to the carpark, Meis took a short detour to blow a kiss to the lady at the lingerie counter, as he always did, when wearing the wiener hat.
“You are an idiot,” she said fondly, before he could leave. “Why don’t you just ask for my number?”
“Because I didn’t think you’d give your number to a guy who was dressed like this!” Meis said, shock hidden beneath wiener-induced showmanship.
“I dunno, you might’ve won me over,” she replied.
Meis went still as a bunny confronted by a fox.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She shrugged her shoulder. “Eh.”
“How about I give you my number,” Meis said, slowly. “And then you can decide whether you need to rethink this decision or not.”
“Whatever works for you,” she said.
Meis wrote his number on the back of a flyer advertising a two for one deal on Stella McCartney underwire brassieres.
“Okay,” Meis said, still stunned. “Have a good one.”
“My name’s Sarah,” lingerie counter lady said, pointing a finger at her nametag.
“Meis,” he replied. “With an ‘e’, not like the stuff you spray in people’s faces.”
She bit her lip to visibly hold in her laughter.
“Good to know,” she said.
“I will go now,” Meis said, turning on his heel.
Lio saw him glance back towards her, just in time to catch her blowing a farewell kiss his way, same as he’d done for her so many times. Meis waved, mouth open like a fool. He walked past Lio and Gueira, making a B-line for the lifts with wide eyes and a gobsmacked expression on his face.
“Good job,” Lio chuckled.
“What just happened?” Meis asked.
“I told you that hat slaps,” Gueira replied, with complete conviction.
She texted Meis when they were halfway home and Gueira had to pull the car over to the side of the road until they could all stop screaming.
(19th November, a Tuesday)
There was an old, indie theatre called the Ritz, a little east and a little south of the city. It had been built in the 1930s and had survived the ravages of time and blockbuster theatre chains, without losing its appeal. It had swing doors with wooden frames and big glass panels, and a white marquee with movie names spelled out in red, the kind which required every letter to be added separately. Even the name of the theatre was written in a vintage, multi-line font. It sold cheap movie tickets and had no parking, so its main demographic was nostalgic adults and students on a budget.
Galo loved the Ritz.
“We should get choctops!” Galo said enthusiastically, as they approached the theatre.
Ever the gentleman, Galo opened the door for Lio before following him inside. Lio couldn’t help but be charmed by it. The inside of the theatre was a little careworn, with carpets that frayed at the edges, but it smelled like fresh popcorn and looked like a place that was loved.
“Let’s get tickets first,” Lio said. “What do you want to see?”
Galo grinned like a madman and pointed to the side, at a poster for the original, 1947 version of Miracle on 34th Street.
“They’re showing old Christmas movies for an entire month!” Galo gushed.
Lio had a momentary hope that Galo wanted to use this as an excuse to make out, but his eagerness was clearly unfeigned. While Lio had no desire to see a Christmas film in November, he didn’t have it in him to rain on Galo’s parade.
“Sounds good,” Lio said, with great bravery.
“I’ve never gotten to see it on the big screen!” Galo said, as they walked over to the ticket booth. “I bet it looks amazing!”
“It’s cool that you’re into old films,” Lio replied.
“Well, some of the time,” Galo said. “Bogie and Bacall type thing… but I really just love Christmas and I love Christmas movies!”
“But they can be so cheesy!” Lio whined.
“Oh man, especially when they’re cheesy! Everyone loves cheese!”
Lio laughed in response. Galo was so cute.
“I like that they’re about being together and appreciating people,” Galo said. “And it always ends happily.”
Lio smiled. “Yeah, I can see what you mean.”
“Aside from that movie about the Krampus,” Galo added. “I really should’ve looked that up before I went to see it.”
“You’re absolutely adorable,” Lio chuckled.
Galo shook his head adamantly. “I am not joking, I went to see it with Varys and wound up clutching his arm the entire time. I legit climbed into his lap.”
Galo had to order the tickets for them. Lio had tears in his eyes and too little air to talk.
“I really liked that,” Lio said thoughtfully, as they walked down the steps and out of the theatre.
“It’s a classic for a reason,” Galo replied.
They held hands as they headed towards the bus stop up the street. The Ritz was a fairly short walk from the ocean and they were lucky to catch a cooling breeze coming in off the sea. It was a breath of fresh air after the heat they’d been enduring for weeks.
“Hey, why don’t we get dinner tonight?” Lio asked. “It’s already five, we can walk around until we find something.”
Galo’s shoulders slumped. He looked apologetic.
“I’m sorry, I have a shift tonight at my other job,” he said.
“You’re working two jobs?” Lio asked, concerned.
Galo squeezed his hand. “It’s not as bad as all that. I do night-time shifts in traffic control sometimes, for construction you know?”
Lio nodded. There was so much development going on in the city that it had become a common sight.
“It’s boring but the pay is so good! I’m only doing casual, so I don’t get shifts that often. I have to jump on them when I can. It’s really helping my savings.”
“What are you saving for?” Lio asked.
“I want to be a firefighter, but I need to get my certification first,” Galo said. “I think I can get the subsidy but it’s still like one grand. For the first course!”
Lio didn’t know if that was a lot of money. He was sure his phone had cost more than that. Compared to a university degree it was cheap, but it didn’t sound that way, from how Galo put it.
Lio had already saved a lot more than that from his job, but he’d also been hoarding it and relying on his parents to cover his clothes and other particulars. They’d said he should cover his own petrol and going out money, but he’d just stopped driving his car and going out much. Meis and Gueira couldn’t afford to do anything too extravagant and Lio didn’t have much interest anyway.
“That’s assuming my results are good enough,” Galo added, glumly. “I can’t believe we have to wait until halfway through December, it’s killing me.”
“I know you can do it,” Lio said. “I’m sure they do loans, too. You could pay it all back after you got employed.”
Galo made a face.
“I hate the idea of being in debt, though! It sucks!”
“It wouldn’t be forever,” Lio brushed his shoulder against Galo’s. “I think it’s really noble that you want to be a firefighter.”
Galo held his hand up and brushed it through his hair, the way Lio had learned he always did when someone complimented him.
“Heh, you reckon?” he said.
“Yeah,” Lio said, feeling unexpectedly bashful. “You’re such a good guy.”
Lio wished he were anything approaching as good.
“You’re going to give me a big head,” Galo said.
“Nah,” Lio replied.
He looked up to see Galo biting his lip. Galo looked to the right of them, down a side street which looped around behind the storefronts that connected to the theatre.
“Would you maybe consider walking behind the shops with me and making out until I have to leave for work?” Galo said.
Lio pulled Galo down the street behind him, without further ado.
“Set an alarm on your phone,” he said.
“Ugh, you are so smart,” Galo replied.
(27th November, a Wednesday)
One of the things Lio loved most about having a boyfriend was doing little domestic things, like going on lunch dates even when they only had half an hour and had to eat in the employee break room at David Jones, so no one would see Santa’s elf eating a sandwich.
“What do you have today?” Galo asked, as he pulled out his lunch bag.
It was insulated, with a little ice pack inside, decorated with pictures of men holding up strange banners, dressed in elaborate outfits. Lio had yet to ask him what that was about.
“I forgot to bring anything.” He always forgot to bring anything. “I took a hotdog from the stand.”
Galo eyed the hotdog with rabid interest.
“Do you want to swap?” Lio asked.
Galo looked torn for a moment. “I kinda would…”
Lio handed it over and in exchange received a clingwrapped sandwich, an orange and tub of plain, homebrand yoghurt. Lio handed the yoghurt back and Galo took it with more glee than plain yoghurt deserved.
Galo took a massive bite of the hotdog and closed his eyes, rapturous. He released a sound which gave Lio some very unfortunate feelings in his pants.
“So good,” Galo mumbled, mouth still full.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Lio said.
“Mhm,” Galo replied.
Lio unwrapped his sandwich to find that it was cheese and vegemite, with a slice of cos lettuce, on thin-sliced white bread. It gave him pleasantly nostalgic feelings about his childhood. He took a bite. The cold had made the bread go a little soggy, but the lettuce was crisp. He enjoyed the slight weirdness of eating vegemite with something that was almost a vegetable.
“I thought you were on a protein kick?” Lio asked, after he finished his mouthful, like a proper person.
Galo looked mildly uncomfortable for a moment. Lio didn’t want to push.
“Just felt like something different,” he said. He took another bite of his hotdog.
“I don’t know how you manage eating that much plain chicken,” Lio said.
“It’s worth it for these guns,” Galo replied.
He put his hotdog down and flexed his arms, straining the material of his shirt. Lio stopped eating. Galo cycled through poses that Lio had definitely not seen in the bodybuilding magazines he had definitely not bought. Lio’s heart skipped when Galo shifted into a side chest pose. Galo’s pectorals clenched with all the beauty of whale breaching through the ocean spray.
A button popped of Galo’s vest.
Lio burst into laughter.
“Oh no!” Galo cried. “My button!”
Lio tried to stop laughing and help, but he couldn’t.
“You suck!” Galo said, as he pushed himself away from the table and went running after it.
He had to get one of the ladies from the men’s section to sew it back on for him. They were ten minutes late back to their shifts.
(1st December, a Sunday)
“Everyone from the Grotto’s having a party on Saturday,” Aina said. “You should come.”
She put a small stack of invitations down on the counter between them. Meis and Gueira perked up from their places by the trimming case. They flanked Lio’s shoulders, jostling him as they each reached for an invite.
“Woah,” Gueira said. “Is this actual cardstock?”
“I like stationery,” Aina replied, lightly.
“You’re letting us crash your work party?” Meis asked.
Aina gave him a wry look. “Who’s crashing? I feel like we work together already.”
“Before I answer… will there be eggnog?” Gueira asked.
“There will be eggnog,” Aina said. “But! Lucia is making it, so you need to be careful.”
“Is Lucia the girl who completely roasted her dad over what he did to Thyma?” Meis said.
“Yes,” Aina replied.
“I wish I’d seen it,” Gueira said.
“We’re looking forward to it,” Lio replied, earning himself a smile from Aina.
“Great!” she said. “It’s at Galo’s house, wear red and green. We’d do ugly Christmas jumpers but it’s too hot.”
“Will do!” Meis and Gueira replied, in concert.
Aina waved as she walked back to the Grotto. She had a pep in her step and a jingle in her feet. The green elf, whose name Lio did not know, had once again taken one of Galo’s shifts.
“This is so cool,” Meis said. “We never get invited to parties!”
“Not good parties,” Gueira said.
“What about—”
Gueira cut Lio off.
“Protest marches do not count,” he said, firmly.
“I hope there’s mistletoe,” Gueira said, starry-eyed. “I want to smooch so many people.”
(7th December, a Saturday)
Galo’s apartment was part of a little, three-storey block just outside of the Promepolis city limits. The outside was grey and a little worn, but the garden was flourishing even in the heat. There were Christmas bushes full of red blooms and vibrant Kangaroo paw in the garden beds. The cicadas were chirping so loudly that they overcame the sound of the music inside.
The front door to the building sprang open and Galo ran up the driveway to meet them. He was wearing a green tshirt with a reindeer on it with, of all things, his peach shorts.
“Guys! You made it!” Galo said, before cupping Lio’s cheek and drawing him into a socially inappropriate kiss.
Lio melted into it, his hands reaching up into Galo’s hair. He ran his tongue along the soft swell of Galo’s lower lip. Galo let him in, happily. Lio could taste cheap beer and developed a newfound liking for it.
“We brought a case,” Meis said. “Just gonna take that inside.”
“Leave room for Jesus,” Gueira added.
Galo snickered into their kiss but did not break it. Lio didn’t either. Galo’s hair was so soft under his hands.
“I’m getting a crick in my neck,” Galo whispered, between their lips.
“Sounds like a problem,” Lio replied.
Galo straightened up again, his arms still around Lio’s back. Lio bit back a noise of complaint.
“Come on, meet Santa and his workshop officially,” Galo said.
He let his hand slide down to Lio’s and tugged him towards the door. Lio followed eagerly.
“What have you been drinking?” Lio asked.
“Promepolis Bitter,” Galo replied.
“I think I like it,” Lio said.
Galo laughed and it made his nose scrunch up cutely.
“I can’t believe you made a beer tasting out of a snog,” Galo said.
“You keep trying things and maybe we can snog a little more, later,” Lio replied.
Galo kept giggling as they opened the door and made their way into Galo’s apartment.
“— and that’s why I’m not allowed in the chemistry labs anymore,” Lucia said.
“You are so wise,” Gueira said, head in hand.
“You should see my final project for metalwork,” Lucia said. “It shoots fire.”
“They let you do that?” Gueira asked.
“No,” Lucia replied.
The Grotto Gang, as they had chosen to be called, ran a surprisingly civilised party. They’d turned the music to a more respectable volume once the clock hit ten and Galo had run upstairs at one point to check they weren’t bothering the neighbours. He’d come back down with a bundt cake.
“Mrs Wei is a genius,” Galo said, before inhaling another slice of her best work.
“We got lucky with our neighbours,” Remi replied.
Lio had known that Remi and Galo were roommates, but he hadn’t immediately realised that the apartment was more Remi’s than Galo’s. Galo’s room, the designated bag room, was neat and surprisingly sparse. The sole exception was a small arrangement of tinsel over his window. His main possessions seemed to be exercise related.
“I’m kind of surprised you haven’t put up a tree yet,” Lio said. “Or are you keeping work separate?”
“Ha ha,” Remi replied.
Galo shook his head. “No, he’s serious.”
“Oh,” Remi said, brow wrinkling in surprise. “No, it’s just I’m Jewish. I’m travelling down the coast in a few weeks to see my parents, we’ll do holiday stuff then.”
“That sounds lovely,” Lio said.
“All of my family makes fun of me for working as a Christmas elf,” Remi replied, in answer to a question Lio had not asked.
Lio had been camped under Galo’s arm the entire evening, cuddling up to him as if it wasn’t thirty degrees out even after the sun had gone down. He felt it when Galo sighed against him.
He tightened his arm around Galo’s waist.
“You alright?” he asked.
“I’m all good,” Galo replied, his smile weaker than it should have been.
In the corner, by the tv, Thyma was engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Aina and Varys. Lio had worried a little about how she’d fare at a party where people were drinking, but it turned out that Varys didn’t drink either and that had been enough to make her relax. Meis had holed himself up in the kitchen for half an hour, in an attempt to turn aeroplane jelly into shots.
“Hey, we’re going to get some air,” Lio said, with a nod to Remi.
“I might get another beer,” Remi replied. “Have fun.”
Lio tugged Galo out the door. It was cooler outside, and the light had finally faded into intimate darkness. Moths fluttered around the pale streetlamps and the cicadas continued to cheep in the trees around them.
“Want to go for a walk?” Lio asked.
Galo nodded.
Lio threaded their fingers together and walked off in the direction of the park that sat halfway down Galo’s street. They were quiet as they walked down the road, the residual heat of the bitumen rising up from the ground beneath them. Galo naturally gravitated towards the swings once the park was in view and Lio followed easily.
They each took a seat, swinging slightly, in sync, their hands still clasped between them.
“Are you okay?” Lio asked.
Galo nodded. It was not very convincing. Lio squeezed his hand supportively.
“It’s just this time of year,” Galo said. “It’s a bit lonely for me.”
Lio swallowed, worried he’d say the wrong thing.
“I can’t imagine,” Lio said. “I’m sorry.”
Galo shook his head.
“Who are you spending the holidays with?” Lio asked.
Galo looked embarrassed. He gently pulled his hand from Lio’s and wrapped his arms around himself. Lio felt bereft.
“Normally I’d crash someone else’s party, but Remi’s going out of town and I can’t afford that much time off work,” Galo said. “There’s no way I could go to Lucia’s now, Varys’ family don’t celebrate anything this time of year and Aina… her family’s going through some stuff.”
“Don’t you have any—” Lio stopped himself too late. He wanted to bite off his tongue.
Galo’s sad smile returned. “Nah, it’s just me.”
It was so unfair, so breathlessly unfair. Galo, who was good and kind, deserved to have an ocean of people there to love him.
Lio realised how obtuse he had been.
That was why Galo had to work so much, why his room was so sparse, why he didn’t have a lot of decorations up even though he loved Christmas so much. Lio had thought that Galo had relatives or foster parents, somewhere. People who supported him in the basics. He’d known it was hard, but not how hard. Lio felt a sharp pang of self-hatred.
And then he thought to himself, is this helpful? The recrimination was maybe deserved, but it didn’t change anything and Galo didn’t deserve his pity. Galo deserved his support. That was what he was there for.
“Come to my house for Christmas,” Lio said.
“Huh?” Galo replied.
“I know we haven’t been dating long, but I’d love it if you came,” Lio said. “My parents are obliviously conservative, but they’re nice and I know they’d like you.”
He’d talk to them beforehand to stop them from saying anything too offensive.
“I don’t want to impose…”
Lio got up off his swing and walked over to Galo. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder and sat in his lap, only a little wobbly. Galo steadied him with an arm around his waist. Lio took Galo’s free hand in his.
“Come on, come to my house and eat roast lamb in forty-degree weather while my parents play Christmas music that I hate and you love,” Lio said, with a kiss to Galo’s forehead. “You can talk to my Dad about cricket.”
“I do like cricket,” Galo said, quietly.
“It’s the most boring sport on the planet,” Lio replied, huskily.
Galo smiled and it was finally a real one. Lio felt Galo relax in his arms, his tension finally released. It was easy for Lio to follow him, then.
“It’s the national pastime,” Galo said primly.
“That’s because no one in Promepolis has any taste,” Lio replied.
Galo opened his mouth to retort, so Lio blocked him off with a kiss. He felt Galo’s arm tighten around him. Lio moved so he could cup Galo’s cheek with his palm. Galo was so warm and steady beneath him. They were both a little sticky from the heat, but Lio found he didn’t mind, even liked it. It felt real. Galo’s mouth dipped down to kiss his throat. Lio shivered from the press of his lips. The fire inside him flowed through his veins, warm and languid.
They were the only two people in the world.
“Might be time to get a room, boys,” came a voice from behind them.
It felt like having a rock dropped on his head from a great height.
“Would you fuck off?!” he shouted, incensed, head snapping up.
It was a cop. They had been interrupted by a cop. Galo turned to look and burst into embarrassed laughter.
There was a police car behind him, which Lio hadn’t even heard approaching, too distracted to notice. He felt his balls shrivel up inside his body. The cop crossed his arms and gave them a firm look.
“Would you like to try that again?” he said.
They chose to go home, Galo giggling uncontrollably, Lio mortified.
(8th December, a Sunday)
“I invited my boyfriend to Christmas,” Lio said, over lunch.
“Oh,” his mother said, an awkward, breathy vowel.
“Kiddo, you haven’t been dating him very long,” his father replied.
“I have reasons,” Lio said.
“Okay,” his mother said, unconvinced but game to try. “Let’s hear them.”
Lio held up his index finger. “We’re not going to bring it up, but he doesn’t have family around to spend Christmas with.”
“Oh, that’s awful.” His father’s brow furrowed.
Lio held up another finger.
“He can’t go to his friends’ places this year, because they all have things going on that preclude it.”
His mother’s eyes looked a little glassy. “Oh, sweetheart, of course he can come.”
“We’d love to have him,” his father said.
Lio held up a third finger and sighed.
“His full name is Galo Thymos,” he said, dully. “I think you’ve heard of him.”
“Oh! He’s that young man the Governor saved from a fire!” his father said.
“How unbelievable is that?” his mother asked.
“He seemed like a nice boy in the paper,” his father said. “Quite community minded.”
“Not a bad fit for you,” his mother mused.
Lio sat and ate his weetbix while his parents rehashed all the media bites about Galo that he’d purposely avoided the first time around. He’d thought it better to get that out of the way before Galo came into their house and found himself inundated with upper class approval rankings.
“We should get him a present,” his mother said, as she and his father wound down. “What does he like?”
Damn. Lio hadn’t even thought of that yet.
“It can’t be anything too extravagant,” Lio said. “He’ll feel embarrassed.”
“We should probably do our main gift exchange on Christmas Eve, then,” his father said, thoughtfully.
“Yes, let’s,” his mother said. “Now come on, what does he like?”
“He likes to work out,” Lio said. “He runs every morning.”
“Do you know his shoe size?” his mother asked.
“What?” Lio asked, his face reddening a little. He hadn’t thought about that!
His mother quirked her brow, as if she knew exactly what correlation he’d just drawn. “I hope you’re using protection, by the way.”
Lio’s face went fire hot, the flames inside him moments away from coming out.
“Mum!” he cried. “We haven’t…"
“We were all young once,” she said, in a worldly fashion.
“I read an article the other day that said syphilis is coming back,” his father replied. “And it’s all because young people aren’t wearing protection!”
“I have to go to work!” Lio said, as he pushed away from the dining table and speed walked out of the room.
“Find out his shoe size!” his mother called, from behind him.
That day, during a feigned toilet break, Lio snuck into the David Jone’s employee back room, pulled Galo’s shoes out of his unprotected sports bag and read their size off the bottom of the sole.
He saw a little pine tree propped up in the corner of the room and realised he knew exactly what to get Galo for Christmas.
(9th December, a Monday)
The coffeeshop they went to on their first date became a staple for them. Even with the mild embarrassment Galo had experienced at the hands of his former boss, the coffee was still good and it had spurred them to at least acknowledge that they were going out on a date at all. Lio had taken to encouraging Galo to branch out beyond black coffee and Galo, in turn, was teaching Lio to appreciate that coffee had more than one kind of bean and they all tasted different.
“What do you think of this one?” Galo asked.
“What is it again?” Lio said.
“Ethically sourced, locally roasted, high-altitude Caturra.”
Lio took a sip.
“It tastes like coffee,” he said.
“You look so fancy, why is your palate so bad?” Galo asked, with a chuckle.
“I contain multitudes, thank you,” Lio replied.
“You contain bad taste in coffee.”
Lio squeezed Galo’s hand as they walked together.
“How about yours?” Lio asked.
Galo took a sip of his own coffee, but he didn’t drink it like a regular person. He held it on his tongue, as if measuring the flavours carefully. He swallowed after about a minute of thought.
“It tastes like someone took perfectly good coffee and then poured vanilla sugar all over it until you could no longer taste the coffee,” Galo said.
“For that, I’m making you try peppermint syrup next,” Lio said.
“No!” Galo whined, head tilted back, smiling.
They did a little turn around the promenade, looping across to the nearby park so they could watch the morning joggers run by like graceful gazelles, who occasionally were pushing strollers.
“Are you still good for this weekend?” Lio asked, as he sipped more of his high-altitude whatever.
“I’m really looking forward to it!” Galo said. “I love festivals, I’ve never been to Burnish Summer, before.”
“I’ve been going the past few years. Once we finish our shift, we can go watch the music.”
Galo paused in his walking for a moment. Lio turned to face him, with a small quirk to his brow.
“Just so you know, I like to dance, and I am going to be so embarrassing,” Galo said.
“How bad are we talking here?” Lio asked.
“Dad shuffle bad. I’m talking bad!”
Lio smiled warmly at him.
“I don’t care at all,” he said. “It’ll just be nice to be with you.”
Half an hour later he sent Aina a text.
Lio glared at his phone screen, before tucking it in his bag and getting to work.
It was his fault for asking.
(10th December, a Tuesday)
At lunchtime Lio saw a familiar face, sheepishly walking up to the point of service. He had a small group of people behind him, some he recognised from school, some he didn’t. Lio couldn’t say he really knew anything about them. They hung back a little, fiddling with their phones and chatting.
“Hi,” Lio said, when Damien was finally at the counter.
“Hey,” Damien replied, his eyes flicking forward and away.
Lio remembered, with not a little shame, how thoroughly shitty he had been to Damien the last time they spoke.
“I’m sorry for being such an asshole before,” Lio said.
Damien straightened, surprise clear on his face. He opened his mouth and made a soft ‘oh’ sound. Damien shook his head a moment later, a firmness to his actions. Lio had never seen him look so resolved.
“Thanks,” Damien said. “I can’t say I enjoyed it… but you weren’t wrong. You gave me a lot to think about.”
“You didn’t deserve that,” Lio replied.
“Had to get pulled up sometime. I’ve been an asshole too,” Damien said.
Lio couldn’t really argue with that.
“Are you coming to the awards day?” Damien asked.
The envelope with his invitation was still in his desk drawer, ignored.
“I’m not sure,” Lio said, honestly.
“Results will be out by then, you probably made dux,” Damien replied, surprise in his voice. “You always win an award for something.”
“I might see if I have to work a shift,” Lio said, gently.
He felt Meis come up behind him and rest his arm on Lio’s shoulder. Lio gave him a stern look.
“I’d rather play goon of fortune than sit in an auditorium for two hours while the teachers hand out trophies,” Meis said. “But I’d settle for making that sweet minimum wage.”
“And stealing food,” Lio replied.
“Yeah!” Meis said, happily.
“Could you guys hurry this up? I don’t want to watch your circle jerk.”
Lio’s face twisted with incredulity. He looked up to see one of Damien’s friends, another fellow student who Lio recognised but couldn’t name. Damien’s frowned in annoyance and turned around.
“Do you have to be such a dick, Harrison?” Damien asked.
“I just want a hotdog, you can chat up your zippo later,” Harrison said.
“Uh, excuse you?” Meis replied.
“Your hat looks stupid,” Harrison said.
Meis looked as offended as if someone had insulted his mother.
“Fuck off and sit on Santa’s lap, would you,” Damien replied.
“Maybe I will,” Harrison said, petulantly.
He stepped away towards the Grotto. Aina was attending to the line, but it was surprisingly empty. He seemed to perk up when he saw her. Lio resolved to call security if he acted like a creep.
“I’m not sure about your friend,” Lio said, seriously.
“Why’d you even hang out with that guy?” Meis asked.
Damien looked conflicted for a moment.
“He’s kind of attached himself to my group,” Damien admitted. “I might find a way to detach him.”
Damien shrugged his shoulders.
“Or detach myself, I guess,” Damien said.
Lio nodded. He guessed that was what growth looked like. They all needed to move on sometime.
“Do you actually want a hotdog?” Lio asked. “You don’t need to have one if you don’t want to.”
“They’re very mediocre,” Meis added.
Damien smiled. “Yeah, why not.”
Over at the Grotto, Lio saw Harrison flexing his arm muscles at Aina. He had a curve or two to them, but Aina didn’t look impressed. When Harrison finished peacocking, Aina bent her elbow so her bicep rose up like a mountain. Galo appeared out from behind a reindeer to gleefully join her. Harrison stomped off like a troll as Galo and Aina performed a synchronised front lat spread.
“Galo’s going to lose a button again,” Lio said.
“That’s your boyfriend, hey?” Damien asked.
“Yes,” Lio sighed, happily.
“You’d think the elf thing would make him less attractive, but it doesn’t,” Damien mused.
“Yeah,” Lio said. “Nah.”
“Can I get your least amusingly named hotdog?” Damien asked.
“For sure,” Lio replied.
When Damien walked off with his hotdog, some of his friends raised their hands to wave goodbye as they walked off.
“Bye Lio, bye Meis,” one of the girls said. “Nice to see you!”
“Huh,” Meis said.
“That was surprisingly pleasant,” Lio replied.
“I have no idea who any of those people were,” Meis admitted.
“Oh mate, me either,” Lio said.
(14th December, a Saturday)
On the fourteenth of December, Lio got up at five am and tiptoed out of the house before his parents could get up and awkwardly ask him about the festival while making weak excuses as to why they could not go. He took the first bus out of the gate to Central and from there walked to the Promepolis city park. The Burnish Summer Festival had grown since it had first started, beginning as a small gathering of about a hundred people and evolving into a two-day event that boasted tens of thousands of visitors. They’d had to switch to a gated system when Lio first started volunteering, just to keep the crowds to a reasonable size during the day.
It always felt a little strange, moving through the city so early in the morning. The streets were empty, with only the occasional car or bus passing by. It was almost eerie, like being the only person in the world. Luckily, by the time he made it to the park, there was a small group of volunteers already gathered, all clad in light jackets and rubbing their arms for warmth. Lio recognised a few from school, from the Burnish and Allies Club. Lio felt the light of their flames flicker and reach towards his. He smiled at the warmth of such an easy connection. It made him feel at home.
Lio didn’t bother checking his phone to see which of his friends had arrived first. Galo’s hair was a steady beacon floating above the crowd. When Lio drew closer, he saw Thyma, along with Meis and Gueira, huddled around a little Burnish flame, Aina watching them all with unhidden amusement.
“I don’t know how you’re cold,” Aina said.
“How are you not cold?” Gueira asked. “You’re not even wearing proper pants.”
Lio found, to his great appreciation, that Galo wasn’t either. He and Aina had chosen to wear footy shorts again, along with light sports jackets. They looked lean, athletic and annoyingly chipper for five thirty in the morning.
“We’ve already gone for our run today,” Galo said. “We’re all warmed up!”
“We’re here to lift things and chew bubble gum,” Aina said. “And we’re all out of bubble gum.”
Galo held out a small container of Hubba Bubba. “I actually do have bubble gum,” he said.
“I want some!” Meis said, holding up his hand.
“Say please,” Aina said, primly.
“May I please have some bubble gum, please?” Meis asked.
“You may,” Galo replied, holding out the rope of gum so Meis could tear off a piece.
They heard clapping from the entrance to the park and turned to pay attention. It was a Burnish woman named Lee Lin, who had helped organise previous events. She was also a newscaster on a public network, one of the first Burnish women to hold such a role. Lio always felt a nervous when he got to see her in person. She was one of his heroes.
“Alright everyone,” Lee Lin said, her voice carrying easily over the assembled group of volunteers. “Thank you all for coming so early today and for sharing your time to support this wonderful event.”
Lio had spent many nights in his childhood listening to the sound of her voice as she delivered the news of the day, trying to mimic the roll of her vowels and the casual power of her projection. She had a crisp confidence that he had longed for when his light voice had started to crack for the first time. He wanted to speak like her and mean something the way she did.
“We’ll have you break into lines and collect your event shirts and lanyards. First aid to the far left…”
He felt Galo take his hand.
“That’s us,” Galo said.
“Hm?” Lio replied. “Oh, sure.”
He realised, after a moment, that Galo had yet to tug him away. Lio looked up to see Galo smiling at him fondly.
“She’s cool, huh?” Galo said. “It’s pretty mad to get to see her in person.”
“You’re a fan?” Lio asked, heart fluttering a little.
Galo made a pfft sound. “Who doesn’t love Lee Lin Chin?”
It had been less than two months but Lio was going to marry this boy.
Notes:
This has not been beta'd!
Sorry for the increased chapter length. It just keeps needing more space! It's coming along though.
Also yes, I do mean that Lee Lin Chin. She's freaking iconic. There has been no tv presenter in Australian history with a more distinct voice and an increasingly irreverent sense of humour over 30 years in the business. I just felt like including her here. Lee Lin Chin for Prime Minister.Swingset image by Shamecorner
Goon of Fortune by Req
Lee Lin Chin by KiichiContent note: Peter Garrett used to be the frontman for Midnight Oil. One of their most famous bangers is Beds Are Burning. It's about Aboriginal land rights. In August this year they released their first song in almost 20 years called "Gadigal Land". One of the featured artists on the album is Kev Carmody, who you should all look up. He is one of the greatest singer-songwriters alive today. I'd also recommend looking up Dan Sultan, because his voice is absolutely gorgeous. Everyone on that album is good.
The Ritz is real and I don't usually go there anymore, but I will always think of it fondly.
Chapter Text
The role of the first aid tent was mainly to distribute sunscreen and water to the over-heated, but they still needed to be prepared. Galo and Aina quickly proved themselves invaluable, with their strong arms and quick legs. The few mildly questioning looks they’d initially garnered had rapidly turned approving after they delivered their first pallets of water from the supply trucks, one under each arm, at jogging pace.
“This is so difficult,” Thyma said, with a little sob, as they bounced off.
“The Hot Elves strike again,” Gueira said, as he counted out bandages and testing kits.
“I get tired just looking at them,” Meis added.
“I’m going to go help out with the water,” Lio said. “We’re making good time.”
Lio chose to walk towards the truck, like a reasonable human being. Two nurses from the Promepolis Ambulance Service would be arriving in an hour with specialised equipment, but basic aid would be overseen by the festival to prevent the professionals from becoming overwhelmed. A fully trained team of medics wouldn’t take over until the afternoon, once the festival became busier, and at that point the volunteers would swap out completely. Lio had offered to stay for break down afterwards, but he’d been waved off.
“Do you think I could carry four if I put one on my head?”
It was Galo’s voice, hidden behind the truck but still audible. Lio picked up his pace.
“How hard’s the cardboard box?” Aina asked.
Galo was holding up a pallet of water with a considering look on his face, while Aina ducked under and examined it.
“As your supervisor, I’m going to request that you don’t do that,” Lio said, less jokingly than he had wanted to be.
Aina stood up abruptly, like she hadn’t been abetting Galo moments before. Galo looked between Lio and the box, much like a dog looking between its master and a leather shoe. Lio folded his arms and tried to look stern.
“No,” he said.
Galo slumped with disappointment.
Aina grabbed two pallets off the truck while they were distracted and trotted back to the tent again. Galo levelled Lio with a truly epic pout which would have worked had they been alone, but they weren’t and so it didn’t.
“Maybe you can show me how you carry three instead?” Lio asked.
Galo perked up. He stacked three pallets and popped his chin over the top of them, he tipped them slightly on the edge of the truck, so he could get his fingers under, then lifted the whole thing like it weighed nothing. He looked like Hercules, if Hercules wore footy shorts.
“Four just gets a little awkward because of the width of the boxes,” Galo said.
Lio picked up one pallet to Galo’s three, arms already feeling a twinge, and started to walk back with him.
“How many do we have left?” Lio asked.
“I saw about thirty more in the truck,” Galo said. “Do we have space?”
Lio nodded. “We’ll keep them covered by a blanket.”
“I haven’t done an event this big before,” Galo said. “It’s kind of neat to see things play out at a larger scale.”
“You’ve volunteered at events?” Lio asked.
“A couple! It’s really cool to work a first aid tent though, I’m going to learn a lot. Thanks, Lio!”
“You’re the one helping us out,” Lio replied, happily.
When they got back to the tent, Meis and Thyma were wrestling with a box full of condoms, their bulk containers of hand sanitiser and sunscreen already laid out on trestle tables with various health pamphlets and themed stickers. Gueira was assisting Aina with stacking the water bottles in the least obtrusive way possible, which mainly involved him holding a stick steady so she could line the boxes up square to the back of the tent.
Lio had never participated at an event with this many friends. It made his heart feel warm and full, the flames inside him peaceful.
“Let’s keep at it,” Lio said.
Galo grinned at him. They strode back into the tent, ready to work.
“Sarah at Lady’s Intimates gave you her number?” Aina asked, shock colouring her voice.
Lio gave her a sharp look, which she noticed not at all. His defensive feelings on Meis’ behalf were undermined by the way Meis nodded vehemently in response to her question.
“She asked me why I hadn’t asked her for her number and then I gave her my number and then she texted me like ten minutes later.”
“While you were wearing the hat?”
“While I was wearing the hat!”
They were all sitting behind the tables at the first aid booth, protected from the sun and with no work to do until the crowds picked up. They’d settled in to watch groups of families walk by with tornado potatoes in hand and temporary tattoos of teal flames on their cheeks. The nurses had arrived and were in the middle of a chin wag with the festival organisers. There wasn’t much for the rest of them to do but people watch and gossip.
Aina leaned in closer to Meis.
“How did you do it?” she asked. “Step by step.”
“I don’t know!” Meis replied.
Gueira stepped over from the water pallets, bottle in hand, and crouched between their chairs. He took a sip before closing the bottle up again and putting it on the ground.
“I may have some insights as an impartial observer,” Gueira said.
“What?” Meis said.
“I’m listening,” Aina replied.
Gueira clapped his hands together.
“The first time Meis very unfairly won the hat, he danced through David Jones to demonstrate his triumph—”
“Shut up, Gueira.”
“Nope. While doing this he made finger guns at the lady at the lingerie counter, who was in fact Sarah.”
“I don’t feel like this is helping me,” Aina said.
“Just wait! Sarah clearly found this amusing, which opened a tentative awareness of Meis in her consciousness, which is better than no awareness at all.”
“Tentative awareness,” Aina muttered under her breath.
“After this, every time he won the hat he would walk through David Jones, waving to people who were willing to give him attention.”
“You do it too!” Meis said.
“The thing is, and I am sure he did not do this knowingly, the second time he almost cut past the lingerie counter to get to the lifts, because we didn’t take the bus that day, but Sarah leaned over the counter to get a better look at him. In noticing that, he ducked back and blew her a kiss from a distance of about three metres, with about five seconds of eye contact, before he ducked off again.”
“Far enough not to invade her space, not enough eye contact to be intrusive?” Aina said.
“It’s a tricky move and it can fail, but the point is, he read her signals and responded appropriately. She thought the kiss blowing was cute, so he kept it up and eventually she decided to give him a shot.”
“I did all this?” Meis asked, in abject confusion.
Gueira tilted his head from side to side. “Subconsciously.”
Aina sighed. “This is illustrative but I’m not sure if I know how to apply any of it.”
Lio didn’t know what any of them were talking about.
“Is this like that book The Game?” he asked, concerned.
“No!” Aina and Gueira replied.
“This is about the pursuit of happiness,” Gueira said.
“I want to ask someone out,” Aina said.
Lio felt a sharp pang in his heart for Thyma, who was thankfully off with Galo grabbing snacks from the logistics tent.
“You have to come at it from the context of what you know about them,” Gueira said, with the great confidence of a man who’d never gone on a date in his life. “Sarah happened to respond well to Meis’ unintentional display of his easy-going nature and sense of humour.”
“I feel like I need to write this down,” Meis said.
“What if I don’t know what sort of flirting they like? I’ve tried to put out feelers, but I don’t think it’s getting through.”
Gueira held his chin with one hand, thoughtfully.
“If they already know you, you could try a group date. You can figure out if they just want to be friends easier and you’ll have a buffer. You are going to have to say something probably, I don’t think everyone can rely on Sarah-like initiative.”
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Aina said, with a nod. “Thanks, Gueira!”
“You’re welcome!” he said.
“And congrats to you too, Meis. That’s really cool.”
“It’s going to last six glorious seconds and I intend to enjoy every one of them,” Meis replied.
“Hi Lio!” A high-pitched voice distracted Lio from his eavesdropping. He turned to see Susie Turner, one of the year seven kids from his club. Her flames were like fizzy pop, sparking with excitement. He recalled that she’d never been to Burnish Summer before.
“Hey Suze, how are you enjoying the festival?” he asked.
“It’s the best!” she exclaimed. “With- and the- so many people! Everyone!”
“I know the feeling,” Lio replied, warmly.
Susie’s mother appeared fast behind her, a pleased, though stressed smile on her face. She had a four year old, Susie’s younger brother, Ethan, under one arm.
“Hi Lio, so lovely to see you!” Mrs Turner said. “Susie, do you remember the conversation we had about running off?”
“No!” Susie replied, near-vibrating with happiness.
Mrs Turner put her son down. He immediately walked back towards the crowd, only to be stopped by the lead that was attached to his monkey backpack. She tugged gently and he turned around and wandered back to her. Lio had never felt any fire from Mrs Turner, but she’d always been very enthusiastically involved in her daughter’s extra-curriculars.
“Would you like a bottle of water?” Lio asked.
“That would be lovely, thank you dear,” Mrs Turner said. “And if we could bother you for some sunscreen…”
“Sure thing,” Lio replied.
When four pm rolled around, the rest of the nurses from the PAS arrived. They brought with them even more condoms and testing kits, as well as a stash of pamphlets about drug purity in the city of Promepolis.
“Thanks for being such great helps today,” the lead nurse said.
“We were happy to,” Lio said.
They had all gathered into a little group before heading off, flattered and a little flustered by the praise. It hadn’t been much work in the end, but there was something very satisfying about being a part of a big event. It made Lio feel more connected to the Burnish part of himself. He wondered what Galo thought, if he had some sort of parallel feeling.
“Before you go, I have presents for each of you!” the nurse added. He held up a handful of little giftbags, decorated by smiley faces.
“Oh, that’s so nice,” Aina replied.
“Each one of these bags has a lollypop, a dental dam, two condoms and a straw that detects GHB,” he said.
“That’s… very thoughtful,” Thyma said, quietly.
Lio filled out the handover forms while his friends headed off to save them a space in front of the sound stage. There was an afternoon gap between acts, so if they wanted to find a good spot for later, now was the time. Galo loitered behind him, like a loyal cattle dog. Lio tried to write as quickly as possible.
“Oh, hi,” Galo said, out of Lio’s sight. “Hello! How are you?”
“I’m quite well, thank you.”
Lio’s pen scratched across the paperwork he was holding. He recognised that voice.
“Awesome,” Galo replied.
“Thank you for volunteering at this event. I hope you’re off to have some fun now.”
She was so close. Lio scrawled out his name three more times. What should he say? He had to say something. After he finished his paperwork, he had to say something.
“Yeah, my boyfriend and I are going to listen to the music! You have to meet him, he’s amazing!”
Lio ticked three boxes and put the clipboard down on top of a stack of pamphlets about new treatments for Hepatitis B. He felt a hand press down on his shoulder.
“Lio! It’s Lee Lin Chin!” Galo said, unconcealed excitement in his voice.
Lio turned and found himself faced with five foot three inches of absolute greatness. Lee Lin Chin was slight in stature, but she had a gravity to her. Even her festival shirt and practical crocs did nothing to diminish her presence. Her ruby-red smile and kind, brown eyes hearkened to a benevolent religious figure from a renaissance painting.
The flame in his chest flickered nervously towards her and hers answered, confident and reassuring.
“Hello,” Lio said, shocked that his voice didn’t crack.
“I believe I’ve seen you before at these events,” she said, her voice as calm and powerful as the sea. “It’s always wonderful to see young people being so civically engaged.”
“I agree. I try to be as active as I can.”
She smiled a little more broadly and nodded approvingly.
“You look a little familiar, are you the young man who started the first Burnish and Allies Club in a Promepolis school?”
Lio could feel his face going as red as a stove filament on high heat. His heart beat double time. She knew who he was! Lee Lin Chin knew who he was!
“I, um,” oh god. “I was, how did you know?”
“There was an article in the Burnish Gazette.”
A tiny publication primarily run by university students and read by about five people. She actually read it? Not only read it but had remembered him from a tiny little by line from an issue years before.
“You were a very cute young man,” Lee Lin added, her eyes twinkling.
It must have been a trick of the light.
“Thank you,” Lio said, breathlessly.
“I imagine you must be done with school by now,” Lee Lin said.
“Yes, just finished,” Lio replied. “I’ll be at uni next year.”
“What will you be studying?” she asked, with a voice that sounded genuinely interested.
“Political science and law,” Lio said.
He hoped to god that she’d think well of it. It was a choice that played well in his parents’ circles, but that didn’t mean much outside them. What if she thought he was pretentious?
“Maybe you can change the system,” Lee Lin said. “Just get a hobby, so you’re not dull at parties.”
Lio burst out into a short, sharp laugh. His hero was joking with him! This was the greatest day of his life.
“And how about you, young man?” she said, her head turned towards Galo. “What are your plans for the coming year.”
Galo laughed and ran his hand through his hair, his habitual nervous gesture.
“I dunno if I’m being silly, but it feels a bit embarrassing to say it here,” he said.
“Clown school?” Lee Lin asked. “Chartered accountancy?”
Galo ducked his head. “I want to be a firefighter.”
Lee Lin burst into pleased laughter, her teeth bright behind her scarlet lipstick, her eyes curled into pleased crescents. She looked unspeakably real. He once again felt the brush of her flames as she looked at them both approvingly.
“I’m sure I’ll see you on a calendar in a few years,” Lee Lin replied, cheekily. “Have a good night, boys.”
“You too!” Galo replied, as Lio nodded weakly in her direction.
When Lee Lin turned away, Galo took Lio’s hand and tugged him away from the nurse’s tent, towards the sound stages. Lio’s body shook as the adrenaline faded from his blood. He wanted to shout from happiness. He felt Galo squeeze their fingers together and looked up to see his boyfriend beaming back at him.
“That was so cool!” Galo said.
“I can’t believe it!” Lio replied.
“And she remembered you! How great is that?”
“It was so great!”
“I’m so proud of you, Lio!”
Galo was so bright and beautiful in the afternoon light. His smile was illuminating. Lio couldn’t help but lean up to kiss him.
“You are the absolute best,” Lio said, as he cupped Galo’s cheek in his palm.
“Nah,” Galo said, bashfully.
“Yeah,” Lio replied.
They walked together through the festival, in no rush to make their way over to the stages. Lio wanted to savour a little time just between them, even if they were in the middle of a crowd. Galo’s palm was sweaty in his, but he didn’t let go.
“Hey, um, I have a question,” Galo said, after a few minutes.
“Sure,” Lio replied.
“What do you think Lee Lin meant when she said she’d see me in a calendar?” Galo asked.
Lio had to take five minutes to recover.
As the sun dipped and the sky turned to vibrant purple and pink, as the baked heat of the earth warmed them against the cooling air, Lio discovered that Galo really wasn’t a terrible dancer.
They kissed in the middle of the crowd, amidst the roar and the flashing lights. All the concerns of the world fell away. Lio felt weightless and breathlessly, wordlessly happy.
(15th of December, a Sunday)
“Sweetie,” his mother said, over breakfast. “You’re in the paper.”
In the centre of an article on Burnish Summer, was a collage of images from the festival. On the bottom right was a closeup of Galo and Lio snogging during the night time music lineup. You could tell that Lio had his tongue in Galo’s mouth.
“Is it legal to take a photo like that?” his father asked.
“Festivals constitute a public space,” his mother replied, dryly. “Perhaps a little rude, though.”
“I don’t want to remind any of us of this, but you did think we were having sex, so it can’t be a surprise that I kiss my boyfriend.”
“Remember what I said about syphilis!” his father replied.
“Sweetie, we’re in the paper,” Lio said, as soon as Galo picked up.
“Yeah, I know, Remi showed me,” Galo replied.
Lio frowned.
“Remi reads the paper?”
“Yeah, in actual physical form because he’s a total loser,” Galo said, his voice rising at the end.
Lio could hear incoherent noise through the other end of the line.
“What does he even read it for? Media bias has destroyed the integrity of mainstream journalism.”
“I wouldn’t know, I get all my information off you and Lucia,” Galo replied. “I think he buys it for the cryptic crossword.”
More garbled yelling came in through Galo’s end, still completely unintelligible but more passionate than before.
“You were born to be eighty, lean into it!” Galo yelled, his voice a little muffled as if he’d held his phone against his chest.
“Just because you lack the lateral reasoning to complete a word puzzle, doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me!” Remi cried, finally close enough to hear.
“Tell him I said hi,” Lio replied.
“Lio says hi,” Galo said.
“Hi, Lio,” Remi replied. “Your boyfriend has no class!”
“Yeah but he’s cute though.”
“He says I’m cute,” Galo replied.
There was a frustrated sound followed by a few seconds of silence.
“He’s off to do his nanna puzzle,” Galo said.
“You don’t mind that we wound up in the paper?” Lio asked.
“Nah, we should ask them for an original,” Galo replied. “I want to get it framed.”
“Where would you put it?”
“I’ll hang it next to my bed, so I can look at you every morning when I wake up.”
Lio’s heart skipped inside his chest as his flames flared deep in his belly. He suppressed a pleased, girlish giggle. His entire face felt hot and red.
“I’ll put mine on my bureau,” Lio said.
“I don’t even know what that is,” Galo replied, in a low, husky voice.
Lio couldn’t help but laugh, that time. Galo was the only person who could make him so happy, with just a word or two.
“Do you mind if I come over later?” Lio asked. “I have something for you.”
“You know you don’t have to get me anything.”
“Early Christmas present.”
“Lio…”
“I think you’ll really like it.”
Lio heard Galo sigh into the phone. There was a pause in the conversation. Lio tried not to worry over it as it drew out. He played with his wristband as Galo audibly thought his next words over.
“I can’t pay you back,” Galo said, quietly.
Lio felt a pang deep in his chest. It faded to a lingering ache.
“I don’t want you to pay me back,” Lio replied, his voice soft and adamant. “I just wanted to do something to make you happy.”
“I know, but—”
“It’ll make me happy too.”
“If it’s too big, I don’t think I can accept it.”
“I promise it’s not!” Lio said. “I never want to embarrass you. It’s something I got with my pay from work. I’m making a little extra now, since I was promoted.”
“Alright.” Galo sounded calmer. “Thanks, Lio. I don’t want to be ungrateful.”
“You’re not, I’m glad you told me,” Lio replied.
“See you soon?”
“See you soon,” Lio replied.
Lio hung up his phone and went to his wardrobe. At the bottom sat two large, well taped cardboard boxes. He hadn’t wrapped them past a decorative ribbon. They were both too heavy for paper.
“Here we go,” Lio mumbled to himself.
Lio parked his car on the street, lucky enough to get a park right in front of Galo’s block. He popped the boot and took a moment to decide which box would be better brought in first. The contents were obvious. He tapped his fingers against the side panel of his hatchback.
“Boo!”
Lio spun on his heel, fist raised. Galo looked at him with wide eyes. Lio lowered his hand, slowly and sheepishly.
“Hello,” Lio said.
“Happy to see you too?” Galo replied.
“I was surprised.” Lio braced his arms against his own hips and looked at the gutter.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Galo step in. He felt Galo press a kiss against his head. Lio turned into Galo’s neck and wrapped his arms around him. Galo smelled like lavender soap and body spray.
“You’re so cute,” Galo said, happily.
“I’m fierce and powerful,” Lio replied, plumly.
“That too.”
Lio pulled away from their embrace and gestured a hand towards his car.
“Take a look,” he said.
Galo smiled indulgently and looked into the boot. His eyes went wide and bright as stars. His mouth dropped open into a surprised laugh. Lio felt his chest loosen with relief; he’d gotten it right.
“Shit, Lio.” Galo’s voice was rocky. “This is the best.”
Galo ran a hand reverently down the box of the Christmas tree that Lio had bought him. Beside it was another box full of old Christmas ornaments that his parents had absent-mindedly retired. Galo’s eyes were shining in the afternoon light. Lio leant into him and pressed a kiss against his cheek.
“I got it on sale,” he said.
He had not gotten it on sale.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Galo replied, with another laugh.
Galo turned and peppered Lio’s face with kisses, from his forehead to his ears to his nose. Lio endured it with ticklish pleasure.
“Want to put it together?” Lio asked.
“Yeah, I really, really do,” Galo replied.
Two hours later, their arms slightly red from the scratchy, synthetic pine needles, they sat in front of the Christmas tree and watched the coloured lights flash in sequence. The star was silver and the tinsel was gold, not quite matching, but still lovely enough. To Lio’s embarrassment, a few childhood decorations had made it into the mix. Galo had insisted that they keep them, in pride of place at the front of the tree.
“Did we really have to keep the macaroni santa?” Lio asked.
“It was the best one,” Galo replied, with a beautiful grin.
“If it makes you happy,” Lio said, his flames pulsing once again to the beat of his heart.
“We used to have a tree like this, when I was a kid.” Galo pulled Lio into his side and gently held him there. “It was a bit of everything. I loved it so much.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Lio replied, throat sore.
Galo tucked his head into Lio’s hair. Lio heard him hide a sniffle. Lio wrapped his arms tighter around Galo. He wanted, more than anything, to protect him from the world.
“Thank you,” Galo said, his voice wet.
“It's alright,” Lio replied.
They stayed there, by the tree, until the day went dark and the Christmas lights were the only thing illuminating room. When Galo began to droop, Lio kissed him awake, stood him up and walked him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. They said goodbye at Galo’s bedside, Lio tucking him in and giving him a peck on the cheek to see him off.
“Sleep tight,” Lio said.
“Send me a text, so I know you got home safe,” Galo replied, drowsily.
“Of course.”
Lio locked the door behind him on the way out. He tucked his hands in his pockets and walked to his car, wishing that he could turn around, climb into Galo’s bed and stay there, wrapped around him until morning. Maybe one day, he would. He slid into the front seat of his hatchback and closed the door. He took a moment to breathe. The complicated, but still sweet, feelings inside him eased and his flames settled into a low, slow burn. Lio turned the keys in his ignition, flicked his indicator on, and drove home.
(16th December, a Monday)
Lio caught the bus early that morning, enjoying the comparative quiet and the ease with which he acquired a seat. He sat up against the window and watched the world pass by. It had rained the night before and the side paths were dark grey and speckled with puddles. The trees were verdant and shining. Clouds still cloaked the sky, leaving the morning cool and restful. Lio felt an unexpected sense of peace.
Lio checked his phone and was greeted by a little stream of love hearts, sent by Galo, in his texts. He smiled goofily and returned a rainbow of hearts of his own. He slid his phone back into his pocket, still grinning helplessly, too happy to stop.
He was sure he was going to have a good day.
Lio hummed as he wiped down the hotdog warmer. The meaty steam seeped into the synthetic fabric of his workshirt in a way that would be incredibly difficult to remove. No matter. That’s what eucalyptus woolmix was for.
“You’re in a good mood,” Meis said.
Meis had poured ice cream into a kiddy cup and was eating it happily. Lio didn’t feel even a minor impulse to chastise him for it. Life was a turning wheel that moved ever forward. Might as well enjoy ice cream while you were rolling with it.
“Yeah, I am,” Lio said. “I feel really relaxed.”
“I’m happy for you,” Meis replied, sincerely.
Lio laughed lightly in response. He was aware of how wound up he normally was. It was nice to let go of it.
“I had a great weekend,” Lio said.
“Yeah, that was good fun,” Meis replied. “We need to make sure we keep doing that sort of stuff, now we’re out of school.”
“Of course,” Lio said, with a wry smile. “I don’t know what your plans are, but you’re never getting rid of me.”
Meis grinned broadly and took another bite at his ice cream. From behind them, they heard a polite coughing. A woman was waiting at the till, her wallet in hand and her loyalty card held between her fingers.
“What can I get for you?” Lio asked, with a grin.
The stand became quieter after lunch time, but business picked up at the Grotto. Lio pretended to wipe down the counters while he watched Lio smile at children and take their photos, one after the other after the other. His blue hair should’ve clashed with the elf suit, but it didn’t. Maybe it was Lio’s rose-tinted glasses.
Galo gave a child a candy cane and Lio sighed, happily. Galo was so great.
A man in a black stood by the small processing area where parents could review photos and purchase them. Most did, because visiting Santa was a precious memory and a cheap way to disguise a frame as a Christmas present. Galo gave the man a bright smile and brought up the picture that was relevant to his little angel, who was currently walking away with their grandpa while chewing on their candy cane with the enthusiasm of a born anarchist.
To the left of David Jones, a small group of teenagers loitered. Some of them looked a little familiar. Potential customers, if nothing else.
Lio turned his head for a moment to check the sauce levels in the dispensers. Then he heard it.
“It costs how much?”
“Bloody hell,” Lio hissed, under his breath.
Galo had his best moderately-uncomfortable-customer-service face on, which was a smile combined with a slight grimace. The man in the suit looked honestly offended. Even from the distance between them, Lio could see that his suit was tailored. Whatever that print cost, he could afford it.
“I’m sorry, Sir, that’s the rate,” Galo said.
“I want a discount, I’m not paying that.”
“We can email you the images for a more nominal fee,” Galo suggested.
“I don’t want the file, I want the print and I want it at a discount.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t sell them to you.”
The man clenched his jaw in entitled fury. Galo, who had half a foot in height on him, had dropped his shoulders and fallen into his best ‘I am a harmless teenager’ posture. It didn’t work. The man narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t like your tone,” he said.
Lio could see Galo swallow.
“I apologise, Sir,” Galo replied.
“I don’t want your apology, I want my print, gratis.”
“I… don’t think I can do that,” Galo said.
Ignis was currently busy with a family of four, while Aina ran the camera. Lio could see the concern in her eyes. Neither of them could support him.
“You must be kidding,” the man said. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Galo didn’t say anything. The man shook his head.
“I want the number of your manager,” he said.
Galo winced. His sweet, beautiful face crumpled. Thin ice, he’d said, all those weeks ago.
No.
“Meis, call security for me,” Lio said.
“Boss?” Meis asked.
Lio pushed himself up and over the counter. He wasn’t a lawyer yet, but he knew enough about evidence tampering to know that insubstantial plasma didn’t show up on traditional cctv footage, especially not the budget models malls relied on to save money. There would be witnesses, but they were unlikely to stick around during the busy time of year. That was enough plausible deniability, surely? Whatever. He was underage, anyway. Lio straightened his hat.
“Oi!” Lio yelled, two metres away from the man who was trying to ruin his boyfriend’s life.
Galo’s eyes widened like saucers. The man turned his attention towards Lio with a glare.
“Excuse you?” he said.
Lio’s hat lit up in pink and green, the flame licking around the hotdog in his ridiculous mascot’s mouth. Lio heard a displeased gasp and an impressed coo. He took a step forward, then another.
“Why is it that I’m the one with a burning weiner on my head,” Lio said, lowly, so only they could hear. “But you’re the flaming dickhead.”
Lio’d never seen a man turn purple before.
“How dare you,” he said.
“How dare you ?”
Galo had an expression of open-mouthed horror on his face. Lio realised, his heart dropping in his chest, just how much he could make things worse for Galo if he fucked this up. He needed complete distraction. He needed a nuclear option.
“You little bastard,” the man hissed, his fingers curling into fists.
“I’m not the one trying to scam Santa,” Lio whispered.
He took another step forward. Still space between them, about an arm length.
“You think I won’t call your manager too?” the man asked.
“I’m sure she’ll care about the opinions of a guy who gets off on harassing teenagers,” Lio replied.
He raised his voice, just a little, not much, but enough that he heard a gasp or two. The man’s eyes widened at the implication. His nostrils flared.
Lio dropped his eyes to the man’s belt buckle, then flicked them back up again.
“Ew,” he said. “Gross.”
When Lio saw the man’s fist flying towards his face, he didn’t dodge it. He felt the crack of bone on bone. Not pain, but pressure. The world went silent, upside down and sideways.
Out the corner of his eye, in the moment before he hit the ground, he saw security running towards him.
“Ow,” Lio said, as Galo held a thick shake up against his cheek.
“Why did you do that?” Galo asked, his voice taut with restrained emotion.
It was natural that he might be angry. Grand gestures were for movies, not real life. Even through the headache (concussion?) Lio couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Mostly.
“I wanted to look out for you,” Lio replied.
“I can look after myself,” Galo said, hands gentle where his voice was not.
“I know.” Lio laced his fingers together. “I just remembered what you said, about keeping your job.”
Galo was silent. Lio glanced up, through his right eye, which was the only one that could open for the moment. The raw frustration on Galo’s face was both a reprimand and a reassurance. Lio had done the wrong thing for the right reasons, with the right result.
Nobody paid much attention to the complaints of men who had just committed common assault. Particularly not on teenagers who were a foot shorter and half their weight.
“Lio…” Galo said.
“You’re my boyfriend, I’m supposed to look out for you,” Lio replied.
Galo sighed, loudly, then pulled Lio onto his lap. The cops had already taken their statements and left, but Lio needed to stop by the mall’s medical centre before he went home. He hadn’t been able to book an appointment until four. Until then, he had Galo to watch over him while they both waited in the DJ’s staff break room. Galo might have been annoyed, but he was loyal.
“Don’t do that again,” Galo said, quietly.
“Okay,” Lio replied.
Galo brushed the hair away from Lio’s forehead and Lio leaned into the cool touch of his hand.
“Flaming dickhead?” Galo asked, after a moment.
“I thought it was clever…” Lio replied.
Lio got a clean bill of health from the doctor before Gueira came to drive him and Galo home. Galo walked him to the door, ever gallant.
“Do you want me to stick around,” Galo asked. “Make you soup?”
“Nah, I’m fine,” Lio said.
“Okay.”
“Can I kiss you goodbye?” Lio asked, nervous but hopeful.
Galo pressed a gentle kiss to Lio’s aching cheek, then pulled away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Galo said.
Lio nodded, somewhere between pleased and disappointed.
“Say a prayer for me.” Galo added.
“About what?” Lio asked.
Galo gave him a wry smile and shook his head.
“Results are out tomorrow,” Galo said. “I need all the help I can get.”
Then he turned on his heel, with the cavalier stride of a man who cared too much. Lio grabbed at Galo’s sleeve before he took his third step. When Galo stopped, he wrapped his arms around Galo’s waist and pressed his uninjured cheek into the steady plane of Galo’s back.
“I know you’re going to do great,” Lio said.
“Thanks.”
Galo didn’t sound like he believed him.
“You will.”
“Lio…”
“Believe in the me who believes in you,” Lio said.
He felt Galo’s laughter more than he heard it.
“Thanks babe,” Galo said, the warmth finally returning to his voice.
Lio let him go and when Galo turned towards him, he was relieved to see that Galo’s smile was easier now; a little closer to forgiveness.
“Sleep well,” Galo said, as he left.
“You too,” Lio replied.
Lio’s parents weren’t home, so he took some cold water from the fridge, drank a glass, and then went upstairs to hide in his room until morning.
(17th December, a Tuesday)
When Lio woke up, he could feel the pulse of blood beneath his swollen cheek. He’d fallen asleep with the aid of a cool, damp hand towel pressed against the bruise, but that had warmed and fallen off at some point during the night. He groaned quietly and reached over to the side of his bed for his phone.
It was seven am and he had a shift in two hours.
“You know you could have just called in sick,” Adelia said. “I wouldn’t have cared.”
“You won’t have anyone to cover me, everyone’s waiting for their ATARs to come out,” Lio replied.
Lio and Adelia didn’t usually work the same shifts. She made an exception for December 17 because Lio was the only employee she had willing to work. The ironic part of it was that Meis and Gueira had come in anyway and set up across from the hotdog stand with a laptop, ready to access their results at 1pm. Lio already had his degree set up and he knew he’d done well, so he wasn’t particularly fussed about his actual results.
“Are you sure the wifi’s good enough?” Meis asked.
“Nup,” Gueira replied.
“Then why did we come here?” Meis said.
Gueira didn’t reply. He kept madly pressing control ‘r’ on his email. Lio had given Meis his phone, so Meis was double fisting, Lio’s in his left hand and his own in his right, pulling his thumbs down to refresh.
Over by Santa’s grotto, Lio could see Aina vibrating as she directed small children towards Santa. Galo’s healthy glow had paled into a worried green tone.
At that time of day, the stand would normally be doing fairly brisk business. However, Adelia had put Lio by the register and his vibrant shiner seemed to make many people too uncomfortable to order. He was enjoying the break.
“You just do not give a fuck, do you?” Adelia asked, as Lio calmly wiped down the front counter.
“I want to know how everyone else did,” Lio replied.
“They’re out!” Meis shouted, loud enough to turn every head within a hundred yards. “Results are out.”
Aina made a high-pitched, terrified sound and pulled her phone from her pocket. The parent at the front of the Santa line bore an expression of amusement, while their child looked on with confusion. Galo had his phone out too, his eyes wide with terror. Lio had to brace himself against jumping the counter and running over to comfort him.
“I got 95!” Aina shouted. “I can’t believe it, I got 95!”
A smattering of applause broke out from the line. Galo bounded over to her and spun her around in his arms, while tears began to drop from her eyes. The bells on their uniforms jingled sweetly as they went.
“Fucking 85.15!” Meis said. “Killed it!”
“Oh shit,” Gueira hissed. “81.5, I don’t know if that’ll get me into engineering.”
“Lio got 99 point fucking 95!” Meis shouted.
“Show me!” Gueira replied.
Lio’s heart skipped a beat. He’d told himself he didn’t care, and he hadn’t really, but he hadn’t expected that. 99.95 was the highest score you could get on your results. Lio had come in top of the entire state. A shocked laugh burst from his throat.
“Good job,” Adelia said, from beside him, her expression warmer than he had ever seen it.
Lio smiled like a fool, though it made his cheek throb with pain. Meis had earned himself some disapproving looks for his conduct and hadn’t seemed to have noticed at all. He was too busy jumping up on top of the benches and pointing both his index fingers at Lio.
“Legend!” Meis. “Absolute legend!”
Gueira jumped up with him, joining him in a chorus of hoots that were as heartwarming as they were socially inappropriate.
And then, suddenly, Galo was there, leaning over the front counter, grinning and beautiful.
“Good job, baby,” Galo said, pride thick in his voice.
Lio leaned over to kiss him, one hand on his cheek. He wanted to drag Galo into the storage room and get irresponsible. Why on earth had he agreed to work that day?
“How’d you do?” Lio asked, their foreheads pressed together, as close to privacy as they could get.
“Like 77,” Galo replied, a little sheepish. “It’s more than enough to get me into firefighting.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Lio said.
He was, he was so very proud that his Galo, who had worked so hard for so long, would be able to pursue his dream. Lio wanted to crow about it to everyone in the Santa line, in the department store, in the entire centre. Galo’s eyes went glassy, like he wasn’t used to praise. Lio had plans to fix that.
“You’re the best, you’re great,” Lio said, his throat sore.
“You are,” Galo replied.
Galo turned his head towards the Grotto, where Aina was sniffling into Santa’s shoulder. The line was beginning to look a little impatient again.
“I better get back to that,” Galo said, his voice reluctant.
“Meet me after work,” Lio said. “We have to celebrate.”
“For sure,” Galo replied, before he bound off.
“Our best friend got 99.95!” Meis gushed, to a complete stranger as they walked by.
“Oh,” they said. “Congratulations!”
Lio ducked his head, and through his laughter said, “thanks.”
(18th December, a Wednesday)
Lio woke up on Wednesday, in the same clothes he’d worn the night before, with a hangover brought on by drinking too much goon. His bed was full of sand. Lio could feel the stickiness of drying salt on his skin and the lingering prickle of Galo’s stubble on his jaw. He could remember the drive to his and Meis and Gueira’s little beach, but he couldn’t remember how they got home. Varys had been there. Did he drive them home? He must have. They’d borrowed Remi’s van and Varys was the only one with a light rigid licence.
Lio had vague recollections of Meis and Gueira leading a stumbling rendition of ‘Greg! The stop sign’ until a wholly unexpected cop car had approached and they’d all had to run into the scrub so they wouldn’t get pulled in for being disorderly. Any plans of a productive morning dissolved when Lio found himself unable to sit up without a debilitating sense of vertigo.
His mother didn’t come to check on him until midday. From the wry expression on her face, Lio knew that he would be fooling no one if he tried to plead illness.
“So, how was your night?” she asked.
“It was good,” Lio replied, quietly. “I think.”
“Do you want some berocca?”
“Yes, please.”
“Mm, and how about some aloe vera.”
“Aloe vera?” Lio asked.
“For that black eye you’ve been hiding from me.”
Lio’s eyes snapped open so widely that his cheek hurt more than his aching head. He pathetically cupped his hand over his bruise.
“It’s a few days old. How did you get it?” his mother asked, primly.
“Someone didn’t like the look of me,” Lio said.
She was silent, a flat, displeased look on her face. He didn’t want her to ask about it. The police had said they were going to lay charges personally, so he didn’t have to, and he’d maybe chosen not to identify himself when the police took his statement, so they couldn’t call his parents.
“Just so you know, we’re having a guest over this evening and I expect you to be there,” his mother said, as if the rest of their conversation had never occured.
“Alright,” Lio replied.
All he wanted to do was stay in bed and possibly die .
“It’s the Governor, by the way, so I expect you to be well presented,” his mother added.
Lio groaned and hid his face under his pillow. Of course the world would punish him with Kray Foresight.
Rest, water and medication cooled Lio’s aching head. By the time the afternoon was over, he felt almost human again.
For the sake of familial harmony, he borrowed his mother’s foundation and spent twenty minutes stippling over the mottled yellow-green bruising left on his face. The swelling had largely gone down, which made it easier. He’d been lucky that he hadn’t burst any capillaries in his eye because there would have been no covering that. When Lio was done, he laid out his most appropriate shirts and decided to wear one in a cool green, the closest thing he had to teal. It made his hair look like dishwater. He wore three quarter pants beneath it, in a shade between navy and black, and found it didn’t look too awful. Lio hoped that his lack of effort would help relay at least polite ambivalence, to both his parents and Foresight.
Lio wanted to text Galo, maybe call him, but he recognised the bitter cruelty of seeking comfort for something that he knew Galo wanted, very much. Not telling him left a queasy feeling in Lio’s stomach. It felt like he was doing something wrong, though he wasn’t sure if he was stealing or lying, or something else.
He sat down on his bed and flopped back onto the duvet. Lio ran his fingers over the soft cotton. If Kray was visiting, it was likely that he would want to discuss the internship he had offered. What should he do?
“Okay,” Lio said, to himself. “Time to get up.”
He levered himself up from the bed and went downstairs.
“Kray! So good of you to come!” his mother gushed.
She held out her arms and bestowed air kisses upon both of Foresight’s cheeks. Kray smiled through her light embrace. He exchanged a firm handshake and a manly nod with Lio’s father. Lio breathed deeply and thought about his happy place.
“It’s good to see you again, Lio,” Foresight said, his hand outreached. “I heard you were a distinguished achiever in your HSC, congratulations.”
“He received a 99.95!” His father said, proudly.
“It would’ve been nice if they still let them tick up to a hundred,” his mother added.
Lio took Foresight’s hand and resisted a shiver. It was a good handshake, firm and not cold or clammy, but that was part of what made it upsetting. Foresight presented himself so well. He could hide his sins behind a pleasant manner.
“It was a surprise,” Lio said.
“Well, I never doubted it,” his mother replied, as she placed a seemingly-doting hand upon Lio’s shoulder.
Foresight nodded, warm, distant and paternal. Lio kept his eyes focused on a point just beside Foresight’s ear. He felt distant and detached; simply waiting for an inevitable discomfort. His parents drew them away from the front door and towards their sitting room. His mother sat, feet tucked up on the couch, while his father brought out a wooden board of cheeses and charcuterie cuts. Foresight leaned forward from his place on their loveseat, a picture of interest. It felt like they were posing for a magazine article on the personal lives of the powerful and affluent.
The conversation was white noise. Lio nodded where it seemed he should, made the right noises of agreement or disapproval.
“So,” Foresight said.
He turned his body towards Lio and that was how Lio knew his time had come.
“I saw you in the paper the other day.” Foresight had a look of indulgent humour in his smiling eyes. “Looked like a good festival.”
Foresight had not attended. Lio felt a blush rise onto his cheeks, followed by helpless frustration.
“Ah.” Lio’s voice faltered a little. “Yes, that was me and my boyfriend.”
“We were all young once. Hopefully I’ll meet your young man one day.”
It felt like a record scratching.
“Meet him?” Lio asked.
“Of course,” Foresight replied.
Lio’s mother sat up a little straighter. Their eyes met and Lio could see some of his own surprise mirrored there.
“My boyfriend’s Galo Thymos,” Lio said. “You know him. He’s featured in some of your campaigns.”
Foresight’s eyes widened a little, not in surprise, but in something like anger. The expression was gone within a moment. Lio almost questioned whether he had seen it, but the shock he felt was unfeigned.
But then the shock waned and beneath it, the flame within him sparked and grew.
“Of course,” Foresight replied, his voice a half tone colder. “I didn’t recognise him in the lighting. I’m surprised to see him at a Burnish event.”
Lio had never wanted to punch someone as badly as he did in that moment. His fingers curled into fists on his thighs. He breathed in deep and slow.
“He came with me, we spent the morning volunteering,” Lio said.
“Well, that does sound very much like Galo,” Foresight replied, his eyes crinkling again.
Did he even remember? Out of the corner of his eye, Lio saw his mother relax against the couch again. His father sat next to her, unwitting.
“Speaking of photos…” Foresight began.
“Hm?” his father replied.
“I wanted to ask your permission to use one from the event last month,” Foresight said.
“Well, of course!” his father said, his voice bright with pleasure.
“Which photo?” Lio asked.
“This one.” Foresight held it out.
It was the image of Lio shaking Foresight’s hand. Foresight’s left hand was clamped onto his arm. Lio looked attentive, maybe a little cool. He hadn’t imagined that his own game face was so refined. His stomach churned.
He remembered the furious, cold burning he had felt on that night. How vicious he had been to Damien. How helpless he had felt.
“It’s a lovely photo,” his mother said, approvingly.
“I don’t give my permission,” Lio said.
“What?” Foresight asked.
“Thank you for asking, but I don’t give my permission,” Lio said.
He clenched his jaw. His father sat up, his face twisting in annoyance and surprise. Lio didn’t look at his mother at all.
Lio saw the anger building up in Foresight again. He felt something in the centre of his chest, just out of reach.
“I was asking as a courtesy,” Foresight said, his voice pitched towards reasonableness, almost careful. Perhaps he thought Lio’s parents would back him up.
“It’s a private event, you need explicit permission to use my image,” Lio replied.
There was a caveat there. Lio was sure Foresight was aware of it.
“Lio, it’s just a photo,” his father said. “Are you embarrassed?”
Lio’s heart sank.
“Look, it’s fine, Kray, feel free to—”
His mother cut him off. “Lio doesn’t want to use the photo, so I’m afraid we have to decline,” she said, her voice pitched soothing, but very firm.
Lio turned to her, his heart beating like a drum in his chest, his hands almost shaking. His father gave her a surprised look, but it faded quickly. His mother’s face was smooth and resolute. Lio’s parents had always acted as a unit. If she was so resolved, his father would follow.
His mother did not look at him. Not even once.
“There were plenty of other nice photos at the event,” his father added, slowly.
“Yes, of course,” Foresight replied.
His posture had not changed, but there was something coiled about it now. Tight with energy. Lio swallowed the knot in his throat. He loosened his hands, palms flat on his knees.
“There’s one more thing,” Lio said. “Thank you for the offer of the internship, but I have to decline.”
“Lio…” his father said, his voice pained with disappointment.
“It was generous, but I don’t believe it’s the right decision for me. I haven’t earned it honestly and I believe our politics are too different,” Lio continued.
His voice did not waver.
Foresight’s nose was crinkled, his face twisted by some negative emotion too complex to name.
“Of course,” Foresight said, his voice a more taut version of its usual joviality. “You have to make the right decision for yourself.”
“Thank you,” Lio replied.
Lio braced himself and turned to look at his parents. His father looked shocked and heartbroken, his eyes were wide and his shoulders were drooped. His mother was stiff with anger. The tension was thick enough to cut.
“I’m going to excuse myself,” Lio said.
He stood up and walked away, towards the stairs. Once he’d passed from sight he could hear his father launch into a rushed apology. Foresight’s answer was just-barely audible. Lio stumbled into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. He rested his head against the door.
“Fuck,” he whispered, into the wood.
Lio heard Foresight leave at around eight, far earlier than he otherwise might have expected the man to go. He waited, restless, for an hour, before his mother knocked on his door.
“Come in,” Lio said, seated on the side of his bed.
His mother looked at him with an expression of frosty disappointment that he had never seen on her face before.
“That was incredibly embarrassing for your father,” his mother said, voice tight as a wire. “And for me, and for the Governor.”
“I’m sorry,” Lio replied.
“Why didn’t you say anything before now?” she asked.
Her thin face, so like his, was tense and furrowed. Her left hand had tightened into a fist by her side. Lio wondered if that was what he looked like, when he got mad enough. She probably hadn’t seen it in him, any more than he’d seen it in her.
He didn’t want to tell her why. He’d never wanted to tell her. Honesty would change too many things between them. Lio knew that he wouldn’t be the son his parents wanted, once he started becoming the man he needed to be. He’d just wanted to run down the clock until he was out of their house and he didn’t have to live with their disappointment.
“You’re right, I should have told you,” Lio replied.
A light flashed through her eyes, bright with anger. Her lips twisted down and her brow furrowed, throwing the little lines beside her eyes into relief.
“I know you should have!” She said, visibly restraining herself from yelling. “I want to know why you didn’t!”
Because you’ve never supported any of the Burnish things I’ve done, never come to any of the events or open days, because I’ve spent my childhood being the perfect son and the perfect student, and now I don’t know how to talk to you. I show you the pieces of myself that will make you happy because if you’re happy then you can pretend that your goals have anything to do with mine.
Because then you’ll pay my university fees.
Because if I lie to you, you won’t be hurt by how little you know me.
“I didn’t think you’d listen to me,” Lio replied, close enough to the truth that it hurt to say it.
His flames flickered inside him, erratically, as if stoked by a cruel wind.
“When do we not listen to you?” his mother asked, beseeching. “We have given you every opportunity, the best schools, the best resources, a hundred other kids would kill to have the internship you just turned down!”
“I know,” Lio replied.
She clenched her hands in her hair and made a noise of pure frustration.
“Then why do you keep pulling away from us?” she cried.
The world turned teal. Lio looked down and saw his body engulfed, his beautiful flames dripping to the floor, where they pooled into little puddles of aqua and pink. He hadn’t shown his mother his flames in years, and never on purpose since that first time, when he was eight.
He looked up into her eyes, which were wide with horror.
“Fuck, mum,” Lio said, his throat suddenly sore. “I think it’s kind of obvious.”
She left so quickly that the door slammed shut behind her.
Lio laid down on his side, his arms wrapped around his waist and let his fire fruitlessly burn.
Notes:
Had to up the chapter count again, but at least this one is 8.6k! I hope you all enjoy it, let me know what you think.
The image of Lio and his Mum was by the wonderful Shamecornerart!
Chapter Text
(19th December, a Thursday)
Galo met him an hour before work was due to start. They sat in the park, in a quiet, shaded little corner, and Galo pulled Lio onto his lap and enveloped him in his arms. Lio sighed into Galo’s shoulder and relaxed for the first time in an entire day.
“I’m sorry,” Galo said, before he pressed a kiss into Lio’s hair.
“I knew she felt that way, deep down, I just never tested it before,” Lio replied.
He hadn’t told Galo the whole of it, not the part about Foresight, though it left a sick feeling in his stomach to lie. But he’d told him enough, how he’d turned down an internship and showed his mother his flames, unrestrained, for the first time in years. How she was afraid, maybe even disgusted of such a beautiful, integral part of himself.
“I think your flames are beautiful,” Galo said.
“You’ve never seen them,” Lio replied weakly.
“Yeah, I have.”
“I’d remember showing you.”
Galo sighed and drew an arm away from Lio’s waist. With one hand he pulled up Lio’s backpack from the ground and put it on the bench beside them. In short order, he produced Lio’s hat. He tapped the plush hotdog on the brim.
Lio groaned and hid his face in his hands.
“I can see how you’d forget, given how long ago it was,” Galo said, with only the barest hint of mockery.
“I’ll never live that down,” Lio replied.
Lio’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it.
“I still don’t want you taking risks for me,” Galo said, gently. “But, I think you’re brave, you know? Being yourself. Standing up for people. That’s why I like you.”
Lio’s heart beat pitter patter in his chest. Sometimes he felt as if everyone could hear just how in love he was, from the thunderous drum behind his ribs.
Lio’s phone buzzed again. Then again.
“Okay, I’m turning this off,” Lio said, as he pulled his mobile from his pocket.
“Popular man,” Galo replied.
“Let’s get going anyway, we both need to change before work.”
“You could take a day off,” Galo suggested.
“You sound like Adelia,” Lio replied.
“I like Adelia!”
Lio pressed down the power button on his phone, then tapped ‘shut down’. It powered down quickly. The silence was welcome.
“Thanks for being here for me,” Lio said.
Galo reached out and took Lio’s hand. With the other, he looped both their backpacks over his shoulder.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Galo replied, reassuringly.
The park-side entry to the mall passed through David Jones, so Lio and Galo had to thread through Women’s Clothing to get inside. As they passed by Lady’s Intimates, Lio saw Sarah scanning the aisles like she was looking for shoplifters.
“Hey, Sarah,” Lio said, with a wave.
Sarah’s head snapped towards him. She held her index finger up to her lips.
“What the hell are you doing?” She hissed. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Excuse me?” Lio asked.
Sarah darted up past the underwire bras and grabbed Lio by the arm. She dragged him behind a mannequin.
“Sarah, what’s happening?” Galo asked, worry threading through his voice.
“You gotta hide,” Sarah said. “There’s cameras out there!”
“What!” Lio replied.
Sarah threw her hand over his mouth, and had she looked less afraid, he would have pulled away from her immediately.
“Guys with cameras showed up at the Hot Dawgs stand this morning,” Sarah said. “Adelia got there early and she’s been stonewalling them, but you won’t answer your texts, so she’s been trying to contact anybody she knows here to find you . Whoever these guys are, they’re looking for you, Lio!”
“Why would they want to talk to me?” Lio asked.
“Oh I dunno, maybe because you used your flames and your super distinctive hat to threaten someone two days ago?” Sarah said. “Maybe?”
Fuck .
“I didn’t threaten anybody,” Lio replied.
He hadn’t, he’d been careful. His flames shouldn’t have shown up on the cctv, and security hadn’t said anything. Neither had the cops-
“Unfortunately it doesn’t quite look that way on the shaky cam shit ass footage someone took of you on their phone,” Sarah said.
“Lay off him,” Galo replied, tense.
Sarah glared at him. “Hey, I’m on your side here, I just need you to realise how fucking serious this is and get the hell out of here!”
Galo froze.
“I… I have a shift,” he said.
“Is Galo in the vid?” Lio asked
“He’s offside, but they might ask him anyway, it’s obvious you’re at the Grotto.”
“I won’t say anything,” Galo said, vehemently.
“I know,” Lio replied. “Just promise you’ll look after yourself.”
“What about you?” Galo asked.
“It’s fine,” Lio replied. “I’ll be fine, I can take the bus back.”
“Don’t bother, go to level six, Gueira’s waiting for you in the carpark. Thyma’s already offered to cover your shift.”
“How’d you manage all this?” Galo asked.
Sarah shrugged. “Adelia works fast.”
Lio tugged on his backpack and Galo let it slip off his shoulder. Lio put it on and ran a shaking hand through his hair.
“Thanks for the heads up, Sarah, I appreciate it,” Lio said. “I’ll call Adelia as soon as I’m home.”
“Anything for my best guy’s best mate, or whatever,” Sarah replied.
“Be careful,” Galo said, beseechingly.
“You too,” Lio replied.
Lio pressed a quick kiss goodbye to Galo’s lips, then turned and walked sedately towards the lifts. He wasn’t about to run. It would only attract attention. He took a moment to be viciously thankful he hadn’t changed into his uniform, when a man with a Prime News lanyard brushed by him on his way out of the restroom.
The ten second wait for the lift was the most painful moment of his life thus far. He didn’t turn around to see if anyone was behind him. He heard the sound of footsteps as the doors opened. Lio pulled his phone from his pocket, so he had an excuse for keeping his eyes down.
He thought he heard someone say ‘Hey!’ just as the lift closed.
Lio breathed deep and slow as the elevator stopped again. A woman with a stroller got on at level three and exited at level five. When Lio reached level six, Gueira was waiting outside. He threw a hoodie at Lio’s head.
“Put that on, Keyser Söze,” he said. “We’re busting you out.”
“So I guess I’m fired,” Lio said, as Gueira pulled out of the carpark.
He was driving at the speed limit, which spoke to just how seriously he was taking the situation.
“No,” Adelia replied, through his phone. “This is a franchise. I can hire whoever I want.”
“What?” Lio asked.
“You probably shouldn’t show up for work for a while, though.”
“Why aren’t you firing me?” Lio asked.
“Wasn’t my customer you pissed off,” Adelia replied. “And you have bigger things to worry about. You seen the video yet?”
“No,” Lio said.
“You should probably do that. It looks pretty bad.”
“Thanks for the reassurance,” Lio replied.
“You’ll be fine, isn’t your mum a lawyer?”
Lio’s eyes clenched shut. He didn’t reply.
“Don’t worry so much,” Adelia said. “We’ve all had our run-ins with the press, you’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Lio replied. “Thanks again for everything.”
“No problem. I’ll tell Thyma you said hi.”
Lio hung up and let his head hang back against the passenger-side seat of Gueira’s ancient car. Gueira stopped at a red light and turned his head to look at Lio.
“You want to hide at mine?” he asked.
Lio shook his head. “No, I’d rather get to my parents first.”
“They working today?”
“Should be.”
“You might want to watch that video now, then. Get it over with.”
Lio opened up his messages to see fifteen missed calls and ten messages from Adelia, in addition to another handful of texts from Aina, Meis and Thyma. He opened the chain from Adelia first. The second message said ‘have you watched this?’ followed by a link.
He clicked it.
It opened up a video hosted by an account he didn’t recognise. It had thirty thousand views already. The post date was from the 18th.
“Holy shit, are you getting this?” a voice behind the camera asked.
Lio saw himself stride up to the Grotto. Even with the shaky camerawork and poor-quality zoom, he could see the anger thick on his own face. He stomped up to the man who had been harassing Galo and the phone picked up the sound of his ‘Oi!’ over the background noise of squeaky footsteps and overhead music. The Grotto was easily visible in the backdrop. Lio saw Aina pass by the screen, but not Galo. Just as Sarah had told him.
On the screen, the man in the suit glared at Lio, then he flinched as Lio’s hat lit up in vibrant technicolor, perfectly captured by the digital camera. He took half a step back that Lio couldn’t remember him taking, right before the video ended.
It was nothing, it was barely nothing, except that it looked like Lio had run up to a man unprompted, for no other reason than to intimidate him with his flames.
“You’re gonna be fine,” Gueira said.
“Light’s green,” Lio replied.
“Fuck,” Gueira said, as he turned back towards the road.
They drove in silence for another few minutes. The streets became thinner and more residential as they approached Lio’s house. Lio breathed deep and slow, in and out.
“Alright,” Gueira said, as he double parked by Lio’s door.
“Thanks for being here for me,” Lio replied.
“Want me to come in?” Gueira asked. “I can stick around for a while.”
Lio shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I think I need to limit the fallout when my parents get home.”
“You need anything you call me,” Gueira said.
Gueira’s eyes were glassy and he had his lips pursed in the way he did when he was feeling particularly adamant about something. He was a true friend.
“Thanks mate,” Lio replied.
“I mean it!” Gueira pointed his finger at Lio for emphasis. “Any time, you just call.”
Lio undid his seatbelt and leaned over to give Gueira a hug. It was awkward with the steering wheel. Still felt good.
“I will,” Lio said.
Gueira didn’t drive away until Lio had his front security gate open. Lio shut it behind him and walked down the path to his door with an increasing sense of foreboding. The feeling did not ebb as he stepped inside his house and toed off his shoes.
There was a light on, down the hall. Lio walked towards it.
He found his mother, blank-faced at the breakfast table, with her tablet in her hand.
“Lio,” she said. “Would you kindly care to explain just what the hell this is?”
It was the video of him, paused on fullscreen, at the moment he’d allowed his flames to flare.
(20th December, a Friday)
Lio was grounded, as he’d expected. His parents took his phone, his laptop and his car keys. They hadn’t gone through his room, though. Like many idle rich teens, Lio had a neglected stash of old electronics that he hadn’t bothered to throw out, including an old ereader that still connected to wifi. He spent the morning listening to his mother shout on her cellphone while obsessively refreshing the truncated video of his fight and watching the view count climb. A reporter had shown up at his front door, only to be turned away for trespassing.
His pixellated face had featured on a number of low-brow news sites that proclaimed ‘Unknown Burnish Teen Assaults Man’. There were op-ed’s on right-wing online publications that had strong words about the menace Burnish represented in society. Lio was just lucky that he was underage, so they couldn’t name him in their articles.
“It’s going to be fine,” his dad had said, that morning, before he disappeared into his office for the rest of the day. “We’ll fix this.”
He hadn’t asked why Lio had done it. As always, the appearance was more important than the cause.
His mother hadn’t spoken to him since the day before, although she hadn’t really spoken to him then either. She’d just yelled. He wasn’t going to try opening up the lines of communication until she’d calmed down a little. Though he’d have to talk to her soon.
He opened his email account and read, for the dozenth time, the letter he had been sent by the admissions board of the University of Promepolis.
Based on recent troubling accusations, your early admission to the University of Promepolis has been placed under review. This process-
Lio had pre-emptively locked down his social media accounts. He was one bitter classmate away from being doxxed. His father had asked if they could issue a takedown for the videos, but unlike Kray’s charity events, the Mall constituted a public space.
He had half a dozen unread messages from his friends. He didn’t know what to say to them. Hey, everyone, I’ve destroyed my future and shamed my minority group.
He opened his DMs with Galo. There were only two lines.
Let me know you’re okay.
I love you.
Lio’s fingers hovered over the screen.
Don’t worry , he typed.
But that didn’t feel right. He erased it.
I’d feel better if I could see you.
He pressed send. Two seconds later, there was a reply.
I’m coming - be there soon.
An hour later, Lio heard the ping of a message notification.
I’m out the front, hiding by the bins
It felt as if every muscle in Lio’s body had relaxed at once. A laugh rose up through Lio’s chest. Galo had come for him, the world’s most noble, and least stealthy, knight.
Lio slunk out of his room on light feet, with a pair of shoes in hand. He couldn’t hear his mother shouting downstairs anymore. He descended the stairs slowly, wary of the wood creaking. When he was on the bottom step, he heard the quiet sound of talking.
“- don’t know him anymore.”
It sounded like his mother.
“He’s always kept to himself,” his dad said.
“Not like this. He’s getting into fights, he threw away his internship. He’s going out drinking.”
“Maybe it’s belated youthful rebellion…”
“Can you please take this seriously!” his mother hissed.
Lio crept down the hall away from them. He didn’t want to listen. Their front door was heavy and loud, so he left the house through the garage. They always left the roller up, unless it was raining. He slipped his shoes on before he went outside.
By the side of the house, shoulders bunched up conspicuously was Galo. He had a motorcycle helmet under his arm and a leather jacket around his shoulders that Lio had never seen before. Lio’s chest ached, as if it had been years since he’d seen him and not just a day.
“Hey,” Lio whispered.
Galo looked up and within a blink he had Lio wrapped in his arms, helmet set neatly on top of the recycling bin. Lio buried his fingers in Galo’s jacket and clenched his eyes shut. The leather had baked warm in the sun.
“I missed you,” Lio said.
“Missed you too,” Galo replied.
“My parents are furious.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lio shook his head. “This is all my fault. You were right. I was an idiot.”
Galo brushed his hand down Lio’s back reassuringly.
“I was worried about something like this,” Galo admitted.
“Don’t worry too much,” Lio said, bitterly. “My parents are already busy trying to make it go away.”
Lio could feel Galo wince beneath his hold. Shame pooled hot and ugly in his belly. Better that Galo learn now, about the mess Lio grew up in. That he was a part of.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Galo said, softly.
“But they don’t know that,” Lio replied.
Galo was quiet after that. When Lio tried to pull away, he gently pressed Lio back against his chest. Lio slumped into him. Galo was steady beneath him. An anchor.
“I think I lost my university admission,” Lio admitted.
Galo shushed him, gently.
“We’ll work it out, I promise,” Galo said. “Shadow Minister Plibersek’s husband went to prison for dealing heroin and he’s the Secretary for Justice now. This ain’t that bad.”
Lio couldn’t help but laugh.
“That can’t be true,” Lio said.
“Totally is,” Galo replied.
Lio shook his head and lifted himself away from the warmth of Galo’s body. This time Galo let him. Lio curled his fingers around the collar of the jacket Galo was wearing.
“Where’d you get this?” he asked.
“Borrowed Mrs Wei’s vespa,” Galo said. “Her son leant me his jacket.”
“You have lovely neighbours,” Lio replied.
“She likes me because I can change lightbulbs without a ladder.”
In barely five minutes Galo had made Lio feel human again. He was like magic.
“Lio?” his father’s voice, from inside the house. “Where are you?”
“Shit,” Lio said.
“You better go back in. Want me to wait for you?” Galo asked.
“No, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Lio said, sadly. “Thank you for being here, I’m sorry-”
“You don’t have to apologise to me,” Galo replied. “I want to look out for you too, like you do for me.”
Lio wrapped Galo up in another short, fierce hug, before he let go. He took a step away, because if he didn’t go back soon, he’d take Galo by the hand and run out the front gate, never to return.
“Just so you know, I love you too,” Lio said.
Galo’s worried expression bloomed into something soft and hopeful. He smiled, bright like summer sunlight.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Yeah,” Lio replied, his voice thick.
“Lio, this isn’t funny?” his father called, his voice louder and more nervous than before.
Lio pressed a quick kiss against Galo’s lips.
“I’ll message you when I can,” he said.
“Stay safe,” Galo replied.
Lio turned and ran back to the garage. He slipped through the side door and closed it as quietly as he could. He didn’t have a good excuse for himself, but he didn’t really need one.
“I’m here!” Lio called.
His father appeared over the bannister to the stairs.
“Where were you?” his father asked.
“Here?” Lio replied. “I just sat outside for a little while.”
“Oh,” his father said. “Well, it’s better you stay upstairs.”
He had an embarrassed look on his face. Lio wondered how his parent’s conversation had gone after he had left.
When he stepped forward into the corridor, he could see through to the balcony. The sliding door was closed. His mother was sitting faced away from them, with a cigarette in hand and a bottle of wine on the table next to her.
His mother had quit smoking five years ago.
“Go up,” his father repeated. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
“Sure,” Lio replied.
(21st December, a Saturday)
Saturday passed silently. Lio stole leftovers from the kitchen and ate in his room. He sent his friends brief update messages, guilty that he’d made them wait to hear from him. More articles were posted, still anonymous, but when he checked the comments sections, he saw one or two that proclaimed to know him, though they didn’t say his name.
(22nd December, a Sunday)
Lio spent the morning lying on his bedroom floor. His mother hadn’t spoken to him in two days and while his father had tried, he didn’t seem to know what to say or how to say it. Lio didn’t know what to say either.
At lunchtime, Lio’s father knocked on his door.
“What is it?” Lio asked.
“Call for you.”
Lio rolled up awkwardly from the floor, his body stiff from the hours he’d spent on it. He opened his door to find his father there with the landline handset in hand. He passed it to Lio.
“It’s your highschool,” his father said.
Lio’s stomach fell. What could they do to him? Would his graduation be revoked? He held the phone up to his ear.
“Lio Fotia speaking,” he said.
“Lio! It’s Vice-Principal Okoye.”
“Hello, Sir,” Lio replied.
Vice-Principal Okoye was a kind man who was a figurative five degrees too warm-hearted for the job he had. Lio was familiar with him from school events. Given that he hadn’t engaged in anti-social behaviour prior to graduating, they hadn’t had other cause to interact.
“I’ve heard you’re having a bad few days,” the Vice-Principal said.
Lio winced. “Yes.”
“I was sorry to hear it,” Mr Okoye said. “I thought you were very brave, personally. Kind of stupid, but brave.”
Lio was silent for a moment. He took the phone away from his ear and looked at it.
“Are you still there?” Mr Okoye asked.
“Yes…” Lio replied. “Sir, I think you may be mistaking me for someone else.”
“I don’t think so. You’re our budding young activist! Or you were until you graduated.”
“Since I have graduated,” Lio said, slowly. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Ah, yes, well, you never filled in your RSVP for the awards ceremony tomorrow and I wanted to ask if you were coming.”
“That might not be for the best,” Lio replied.
“You made Dux, you know,” Mr Okoye said. “You won about two other awards as well…”
Lio heard papers shuffling, then the sound of Mr Okoye counting under his breath.
“Wait, no, three,” Mr Okoye corrected.
“Vice-Principal, I feel I must speak plainly,” Lio said.
“Alrighty.”
“There is footage of me allegedly harassing a man on the internet, why am I being encouraged to attend a school event?”
Mr Okoye hummed under his breath. “Well, there was concern until we saw that clarification video…”
Clarification video?
“After that it didn’t really feel fair to exclude you. And given your contributions to the school, I think a lot of people would be quite sad if you didn’t go.”
“I didn’t make a lot of friends in my grade, if we’re being honest,” Lio said.
He heard Mr Okoye sigh down the phone.
“Alright, if you’re speaking plainly, then I am too,” Mr Okoye said, his casual tone turning serious. “You’re important to who you’re important to. That club you founded doesn’t have three people in it anymore and it’s not the only club in the city, either. That means something, and it would mean something for the people who admire you to see you succeed.”
“Sir…”
“And I hear you want to be a politician, take the wins where you can.”
Lio considered himself convinced. However, he was not the only person whose opinion mattered.
“I’m not sure I will be allowed to go,” Lio admitted. “I’m grounded.”
“That’s fine, hand me back to your dad, I’ll talk to him,” Mr Okoye said.
“Thank you for the call, Vice-Principal,” Lio replied.
“Nice to speak to you, Lio, hope to see you soon.”
Lio handed the phone back to his father, who looked confused, but hopeful. His father held the phone up to his ear and began to make affirmative noises. He waved at Lio, then walked back out of Lio’s bedroom and down the stairs to the living room.
Lio closed his door, laid down on his bed, and pulled his tablet out from under his pillow. He opened his social media and found a group conversation open with Meis and Gueira.
Gueira:
Mate! Mate!
Meis:
QWEIYFHVJEKGLHTRLIHGVRTJK!
DUDE FUCK
FUCK
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?
There was a link. Lio clicked it.
His Instok app opened and Lio found himself looking at a video of Galo’s friend, Lucia. He paused the video when she spoke soundlessly for a few moments. He grabbed his headphones from his drawer and plugged them in, before turning the sound up. He dragged the video slider back to the beginning.
“Hello to my fexatious crew!” Lucia said, her voice marbled by the lollypop in her mouth. “Do I have news for you today.”
“What?” Lio whispered.
“You may all remember the righteous punishment I leveled against my dad for being a complete Ken the other week, well, this time someone else stepped in to deal with a problem before I could. You may remember this viral video from like, three days ago.”
Lucia aired the ten second recording that had upended Lio’s life. Lio closed his eyes so he didn’t have to see it.
“Yeah, that,” Lucia said, through the speaker. “Well that little clip doesn’t give you the full story of what happened, but luckily, I happen to have some better sources that are totally and completely within the law, and I would know because I dropped legal studies in grade nine.”
Lucia pulled the lollypop out of her mouth. “I give you, exhibit A,” she said.
Another video rolled, this one in crystal-clear HD, the camera pointed down on the register-side of the Grotto. Galo walked into view, face blurred, followed by a very familiar looking man in a suit.
“It costs how much?” the man said, with a distasteful expression on his face.
Lio’s mouth dropped open.
“How?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, Sir, that’s the rate,” Galo replied.
When had she? Why had she?
And then the camera angle changed to show Lio vaulting over the Hot Dawgs counter. Lucia had been kind enough to blur out the name of the stand, too.
Lucia caught the whole thing on film, down to a slow motion shot of Lio dropping like a rock after taking a punch to the face. She even kept in the part Lio hadn’t been awake for, when security grabbed Lio’s assailant by the jacket as Galo dropped to his knees by Lio’s fallen body. The way Galo cupped Lio’s cheek looked particularly romantic, though Lio was pretty sure that Galo was checking his pulse. The video ended on a still shot of Galo’s anguished face. It then cut back to Lucia, who was looking into the camera with her arms crossed.
“The defence rests,” she said. “My Burnish friend here took a leap for love. He was defending his elfen boyfriend from the slings and arrows of a violent Ken. I don’t think he deserves to be enemy number one for making a bad pun.”
Lio winced.
“And to the HD crew, especially my mate Thyma, just letting you know, this one’s gratis. Lucia, out!”
The video transitioned to a photo of Lucia set over the name ‘LuCiAFeXXX’.
Lio set the tablet down by his side and flopped back down on his bed. He looked up at his ceiling, now very well charted territory, and thought about nothing. He rolled over to his side and opened up his DMs again. He typed in Thyma’s name.
“Thanks,” he wrote.
A minute later she replied, “you’re welcome.”
Lio’s mother entered his room at six pm, without knocking. Lio’s tablet was still by his side, so he tried to surreptitiously push it under his pillow. His mother shook her head.
“Don’t bother,” she said. “If you could move over a little.”
Lio shuffled to the side and his mother sat down on the bed next to him. She put Lio’s phone down in between them.
“I’m still upset,” she said.
“Yes,” Lio replied.
“But I think I understand a little better now, what happened the other day.”
“Okay,” Lio said, carefully.
“What I don’t know is how we got here,” she replied.
Lio opened his mouth, only to close it with a sigh. Their relationship was a product of a decade’s worth of Lio trying to be a model son at the expense of honesty. His mother just hadn’t noticed until the past few weeks.
“I think the person I want to be isn’t the person you want me to be,” Lio said.
She turned towards him, a complicated expression in her eyes. They both knew about the elephant in the room. Lio had set his room alight with Burnish fire less than a week before. But to talk about that, they’d have to talk about so many other things.
“I want you to be happy more than anything else,” his mother said. “I really do, sweetheart.”
“My early admission to University of Promepolis is under review,” Lio admitted.
“Oh, Lio…”
Tears welled in his mother’s eyes. Lio’s throat felt sore. He reached out and took her hand in his.
“Mum-”
“You can still go to the awards day tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll drive us there and home again.”
“Aren’t you angry?” Lio asked.
“I’m not pleased, but what’s to be done? We’ll get in contact with the university and appeal if we have to. Any allegations based on that video are misleading at best.”
“Oh,” Lio replied.
It didn’t feel comfortable to accept her help, but he didn’t want to throw away his future over a stupid stunt. He still wanted the same life that he had always wanted. That hadn’t changed.
“You’re still grounded, but Vice-Principal Okoye is a persuasive man. I don’t think you’ll get much joy out of sitting in an auditorium, so it’s not exactly a reward.”
“Thanks,” Lio said. “I appreciate it.”
“Do you have a clean uniform?”
“I didn’t throw any of them out,” Lio replied.
He’d burned the hat, but not the rest of it. He’d planned to give them away, second hand. It was the less wasteful option.
“I love you, Lio,” his mother said, before she bussed a kiss against his brow.
“You too,” Lio replied.
She stood up off the bed and moved towards the door. Lio remembered, in that moment, the plans they had made for Christmas.
“Wait, one last thing!” Lio said.
His mother turned her head towards him.
“Christmas… is it still okay if Galo comes?” Lio asked.
She rolled her eyes, but still nodded her head. “For his sake more than yours,” she said.
“Thank you, really.”
“Mm.” she said. “Don’t stay up too late, I’ll see you at breakfast.”
The door closed behind her with a click. Lio picked up his phone and saw that the screen was black, the battery long depleted. He set it to charge by his bed.
There was an empty, relieved feeling in Lio’s chest. He wondered if this was the best he would ever get. An ongoing armistice punctuated by short, bitter wars.
“That’s a bit dramatic even by my standards,” Lio whispered to himself.
He folded down the covers on his bed, turned off the light, and tucked himself in to sleep.
(23rd December, a Monday)
The temperature was 36 degrees in the shade and Lio had to go outside dressed in wool-blend pants and a blazer. He couldn’t even undo the top button on his shirt, because formal school events required a tie.
“Oh, I’m going to miss this,” his mother said, as she held up her phone and took a photo of Lio outside his school.
“Respectfully, mum, I will not,” Lio replied.
“End of an era!” his father said, merrily.
Lio’s parents seemed to be getting along again, which was a relief. The thought of ruining their marriage had added an extra edge to Lio’s shame that he hadn’t enjoyed in the least.
“Are your friends coming?” his mother asked.
“They’re waiting inside.” Where there was air conditioning.
“Oh good, we should go find them so I can take pictures of you together.”
Lio smiled gamely and led his parents towards the auditorium. The school didn’t actually own it, it belonged to the city, but he was well aware that the school’s social presence had influenced the presence of a world-class theatre directly next door.
Lio’s phone buzzed, so Lio took it from his pocket. There was a text from Gueira.
Bro, we’re by the bronze statue of the naked lady. Get here quick, we brought you a present!
Lio texted back.
Give me five
He breathed in deep and slow as he approached the first smattering of students outside the venue. A boy, a few years younger, looked up at Lio and met his eyes. Lio clenched his jaw.
The boy looked away.
Lio blinked. Huh . So not everything was about him.
He took the east entrance to the building, his parents close behind, and headed straight for the bronze statue of the naked lady. She was difficult to miss, ten feet tall with very well-defined nipples. Gueira loved her.
“Oi, Boss!” Meis cried, “Over here!”
Lio saw him one second before he saw Gueira running at him with the speed and countenance of angry rugby player. Gueira collided with him in a hug that bruised Lio’s ribs. Then he leaned back far enough that Lio’s feet came off the ground.
“Why?” Lio squeaked.
Gueira, reluctantly, put him down.
“Missed ya,” Gueira said. “Hi Mr and Mrs Fotia.”
“Hello Gueira,” his parents replied.
“I am here too,” Meis said, happily. “With a plus one.”
At Meis’ side, smiling nervously in a suit that was a little too large, stood Galo.
“Hi.” Galo raised his hand in greeting. “It’s me.”
“Galo!” Lio said, his smile overtaking his face.
“Galo?” his father asked.
Lio hooked his arm in Galo’s and turned to his parents. His mother had an intrigued expression on her face. His father seemed to be trying to remember where he’d heard Galo’s name from before.
“Mum, Dad, this is my boyfriend,” Lio said, proudly.
Lio could feel a nervous jitter in Galo’s hand, through the hold he had on it. He squeezed down gently, in reassurance.
“The famous Galo,” his mother said. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“And you as well, ma’am.”
Lio’s father nodded his head approvingly. “A polite one,” he said. “This is good.”
"Alright," his mother said. "Bunch up for a moment, I want to take a photo."
They dutifully bunched up, Galo included at his mother's insistance. She directed them away from the statue, much to Gueira's disappointment.
“We’ll let you kids catch up a little,” his mother said, once she was content with the number of snaps she had. “Maybe we can take you out for lunch after the ceremony, Galo?”
“I thought I was grounded,” Lio replied, carefully.
“We are still obliged to feed you,” his mother said.
“Oh look, it’s Judge Bartley,” his father muttered. “Dearest, we should go say hello.”
“See you soon, boys, Galo,” his mother said, before his father walked her away.
Galo’s entire body slumped the moment their backs were turned.
“Oh gosh, that was so nerve-wracking,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone’s parents before.”
“Good to see you,” Meis said.
“You too,” Lio replied.
The auditorium reception area was full of students, not yet sorted into grades. Lio wouldn’t be sitting with Meis and Gueira, unfortunately, because award recipients sat in the front rows. A burst of movement caught Lio’s eye and he looked up to see Susie waving madly at him. Her mother smiled sedately, if tiredly, as her son bobbed at the end of yet another leashed backpack. Lio smiled at her in return.
“Hey, Lio, glad you made it.”
Lio turned to see Damien, who was standing a little outside Lio’s bubble, with a girl on his arm. She was vaguely familiar. He felt like Meis and Gueira had mentioned her, recently.
“Hi guys!” the girl said, brightly.
“Lydia and I are dating now,” Damien said proudly.
“Congrats, man,” Meis replied.
“Just so you know, I saw your video and I thought you were very gallante,” Lydia said.
“Ah,” Lio replied, awkwardly. “Thank you.”
“Oh my god, and is this your boyfriend?” she asked.
“Hi, I’m Galo.”
“You are so lucky.”
“Babe…” Damien said.
“Babe, no, I obviously like you better, I’m just saying, Lio’s good too.” Lydia nodded sagely. “He’s super smart, I wasn’t in any of his classes.”
“You’re smart too.”
“Pfft,” she said. “I’m going into business management, I don’t need to be smart, I just need to be, like, violently savage. Full on sociopath.”
A small band of boys that Lio also vaguely recognised walked past. One of them glared at Lio, lip curled.
“Why’d they let you in, loser?” he asked.
“Harrison!” Lydia screeched (literally and at high volume and pitch). “No one fucking likes you!”
“Bitch!” Harrison hissed, as he cut a quick escape.
“You guys are well suited,” Lio said warmly.
“Thank you!” Lydia replied, perky once more.
“You guys too,” Damien said, before he looked at Galo. “Lio says a lot of nice things about you.”
“Aw,” Galo replied. “Yay.”
A dull tone sounded throughout the reception area. The milling students and parents started to move towards the auditorium doors.
“See you around,” Damien said.
“See you,” Lio replied.
Damien and Lydia walked off arm in arm. Lio was happy for them. It seemed like Damien needed someone with a little bite.
“We’re gonna sneak in Galo with us,” Meis said. “So he won’t be bored.”
“I do get bored kinda easy,” Galo admitted.
“My brother from another mother,” Gueira said. “We’re gonna be loud as hell when you’re up, by the way, just want to warn you in advance.”
Lio laughed. “Not like they can get you in trouble for it.”
“As if that ever stopped us.”
The tone sounded again.
“Meet by the naked lady, after?” Lio asked.
“Where else?” Gueira replied.
Galo pressed a kiss to Lio’s cheek. “Proud of you,” he said, before he was herded away.
When Lio walked on stage to accept his award, he held his head up against a low, quiet chorus of boos that was shortly swallowed by a loud and inappropriate burst of hoots and hollers and applause. It was scattered around the crowd, and when Lio looked he saw his friends, standing in their seats, kids from the Burnish club, further back, and cluster of people from his grade, people he hadn’t taken much mind of, that he’d taken classes with, but not talked to past class discussion. Damien was among them.
Lio couldn’t help but grin. It was more than he ever would’ve imagined.
Vice-Principal Okoye handed him his plaque for becoming dux and said, “What did I tell you? You’re important to who you’re important to.”
(24th December, a Tuesday)
(25th December, a Monday)
“This is really nice, Mr Fotia,” Galo said, before he ate another bite of roast lamb.
In grand Christmas tradition, Lio’s father had spent all day cooking in the kitchen until it resembled the second circle of hell. Other people had seafood platters.
“Family recipe,” his father replied, proudly. “The secret is mint.”
Lio had been given his keys back for the day so he could drive Galo over. Galo had worn his peach shorts again and a white, short-sleeve button up shirt that looked new. They were late getting back because Lio had needed to make out with him before he could start his car. He blamed it on holiday traffic.
“So Galo, I hear you want to be a firefighter?” his mother said.
Galo nodded. He took a moment to finish his mouthful before he replied. “I’m starting classes in the new year,” he said.
“It’s a very noble profession,” his mother said.
Lio subtly made a slicing motion with his hand. His mother was right, but if they talked about Galo becoming a firefighter, they might talk about why Galo wanted to become a firefighter, and Lio didn’t want Galo thinking about the tragedy that had befallen his family over Christmas lunch. Tact was not a quality that his mother lacked, but her comfortable topics of conversation were school and work.
“You know who else is a firefighter?” his father said, unwittingly coming to the rescue. “That guy with the religious name. Used to lead the conservative party? His sister is a lesbian!”
“Abbott, dear,” his mother replied.
“Yes, Abbott. There’s a mural of him marrying himself on the side of my favourite cafe.”
“That’s cool,” Galo said. “Which cafe is it? I’m pretty big on coffee. I like trying new places.”
“Well, I’ve forgotten the name, but if you’re walking from Central Station…”
Galo’s back was the straightest it had ever been. He had his elbows tucked in tightly by his side and he hadn’t so much as picked up a fork without seeing someone else use it first. Lio was enamored with his observational skills, but he didn’t want him to feel so buttoned up. Lio reached under the table and took Galo’s hand in his. He threaded their fingers together.
“If you see the park, you’ve gone too far,” his father concluded.
Galo smiled, already looking more relaxed. “I’ll take Lio there sometime.”
“Once he’s allowed out the house again,” Lio’s mother said.
Lio’s father slapped his hands lightly against the table.
“And now it’s time for pavlova,” he said. “I’ll get the dessert plates.”
“I’ll help clear the table,” Galo offered.
After they had both disappeared into the kitchen, Lio’s mother gave him a slight smile and nodded her head.
“Well done,” she said. “I like him.”
“He is infinitely likeable,” Lio replied.
“Go help bus plates,” his mother said.
Lio stood up out of his chair. “You coming?”
“No, I did my part by making the pavlova.”
Lio huffed out a laugh, took the potato tray in hand and followed his father and boyfriend out of the room.
“Mrs Fotia, I can’t possibly accept these,” Galo said nervously, as he looked at the horribly expensive shoes Lio had told his parents not to buy.
“Nonsense,” she replied. “They’re just shoes. The shop boy told me they were the nicest.”
Galo gave Lio a little side glance that implied that Lio’s mother had gotten snowed. Lio shrugged subtly. He’d long had a suspicion that his mother liked overpaying for things. It was a flex.
“Try them on?” Lio suggested. “Maybe they won’t fit.”
Galo had left his sneakers at the front door in deference to common decency, so all he had to do was loosen the laces in order to get his new shoes on. Galo tied them loosely, then bounced up on his feet.
“Oh wow,” he said. “These are super nice.”
Lio didn’t know much about sneakers, but these ones had a red stripe on them, so that probably made them cool. The important thing was that Galo was looking more impressed and less horribly embarrassed by his gift.
Galo’s love language was a little closer to actions than straight gift giving. He’d given Lio a bunch of syrups he’d made himself and poured into mason jars. He’d even tide them up in twine, for maximum hipster flavour.
“We have something for you too, Lio,” his father said.
“More from your father,” his mother added, as she passed Lio a small, rectangular package that was definitely a book.
Lio opened it curiously.
“The Sick Rose,” Lio read. “Disease and the Art of Medical Illustration.”
“Some very good drawings in there of some diseases that you definitely don’t want to get!” his dad said, merrily.
“What diseases is he talking about?” Galo asked, quietly.
“You don’t want to know,” Lio whispered, before he let his voice rise to normal level once again. “Thanks dad, I’ll cherish it.”
“Use it in good health!” his father replied. “Get it?”
That earned him the groan he’d clearly been hoping for. Lio’s mother pushed his shoulder gently, only to find herself enveloped in a very affectionate hug.
“I can’t believe another year is over,” his mother said, thoughtfully.
“Well, not quite yet,” his father replied. “We still have a few social engagements to attend to.”
“Mmm, that soiree with the Governor tomorrow,” his mother said. “I’m glad he’s got a mellow disposition.”
Lio’s heart dropped.
“The Governor’s back in town?” Galo asked, his expression shuttered.
“Since last week,” Lio’s father said. “He always spends Christmas in the city.”
“On his yacht, so no one can bother him,” his mother replied.
“Although he always brings his secretary with him.”
“There’s something going on there. I know it.”
“You know him quite well!” Lio’s father said. “Is there something going on with him and his secretary?”
Galo smiled blankly. “She’s his PA, and I don’t think so. They just do a lot of work out of hours, I think.”
“Boo,” his father said.
“I’m just going to duck outside for a moment,” Galo said. “Get some air.”
“Of course!”
He took his shoes off with great care, then put them back in their box with the inserts replaced and the line of cardboard between them. Lio stayed silent, but followed him as he walked out onto the balcony. Galo leaned over the balustrade and didn’t meet Lio’s eyes.
“I don’t think he owes me anything,” Galo said. “I’m just disappointed.”
“I’m sorry,” Lio replied.
Galo shrugged his shoulders.
“Everyone else thinks that I don’t notice the way he is with me,” Galo said.
Lio didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. He’d been just the same.
“I can see it just as much as they can, I just hope every time, that maybe things will be different.”
Galo’s eyes clenched shut. He sighed loudly.
“When I was a kid, sometimes I used to hope that maybe he’d come to one of my fosters, or homes, or shelters and just… get me out of it. But he never did.”
Lio stepped in close and wrapped his arms around Galo’s body. He brushed his hand, softly, through Galo’s hair.
“You can’t make people love you,” Galo said, sadly.
“So many people love you,” Lio replied. “Aina and Ignis…”
Galo was quiet.
“And Remi and Lucia, and her mother definitely loves you.”
Lio heard a quiet snort.
“And you have me.”
Galo’s arm looped around Lio’s waist and squeezed, gently.
“I’m really glad I have you, Lio,” Galo said. “You are the best thing to happen to me this year.”
“You too,” Lio replied. “You make everything better.”
They stayed outside, wrapped around one another, until the air finally cooled and ushered them inside.
In deference to Lio’s decision to have a glass of wine with Christmas dinner, Lio’s parents agreed that Galo could stay the night over being driven home. They did, however, stipulate that Galo should sleep alone in the guest room. Lio agreed.
He had also lied. He wasn’t about to leave Galo alone in a strange house, even if that strange house was his.
“This is kinda nice,” Galo said, as they slide under the covers on opposite sides of the bed. “Like having a sleepover.”
“It kind of is,” Lio replied.
Lio shuffled over until he could rest his head on Galo’s shoulder. Galo’s arm wrapped around his back.
“Did you have an alright time?” Lio asked.
“It was kind of neat, seeing your family.”
“They’re… different.”
Galo laughed. “So are you, and I like that about you.”
Lio hid his blush in Galo’s throat. He could feel Galo’s pulse beneath his lips.
“You ready to go to sleep?” Galo asked, his voice a gentle rumble beneath Lio’s hand.
“I am,” Lio replied.
Galo leaned away, to Lio’s great displeasure, so he could turn off the bedside lamp. Lio could still see him, barely, through the distant light of the streetlights outside. Lio’s eyes drifted closed as Galo’s slow, steady breaths lulled him.
“Merry Chistmas,” Lio whispered, before he fell asleep.
Notes:
Finally, after a whole year, the last chapter before the epilogue! A whole year later and this fic is almost finally complete! Too late for Australian Christmas, but on time for other parts of the world...
The previous chapters have changed quite a bit, so even if you've read this recently, have another scroll through. I've added entire scenes and shuffled dates.
I will switch out some text for images later, but the content is finalised. I hope you enjoy it. Epilogue to be posted New Year's Eve. Thank you to everyone who stayed with me and read this fic to the end!
Chapter Text
(2nd January, a Thursday)
“Okay,” Aina said. “I’m gonna do it.”
“You got this,” Galo replied.
“I’ve got this, yeah,” Aina said.
Galo pushed her gently between the shoulder blades and sent her walking towards the Hot Dawgs stand. Aina's arms swung casually as she walked, but her hands were clenched with nerves. It was an important day, after all. She’d even worn a dress.
“What’s the premise here?” Lio asked. “I forgot.”
“New bubble tea place,” Galo said.
“And we’re going too because?”
“Gueira suggested a group date to test the waters.”
Over at the stand, Thyma turned her head towards Aina and dropped a bottle of sauce. It was thankfully closed and also made of plastic.
Lio leant his head against Galo’s shoulder.
“Do you reckon we were like that?” Lio asked.
“I think we were a little cuter,” Galo said. “But this is still pretty cute.”
Aina’s face was a shade darker than her hair. Thyma looked like she was about to faint. To the left of her, Gueira was watching them both, a half eaten hot dog in his hand.
Lio’s grounding had been rescinded on New Year’s day, replaced with a relatively generous curfew of eight pm. He still didn’t know whether he was going to uni and he’d received a threatening DM two days before, from someone he was fairly sure was Harrison. But he still had his job and he had his friends, and for better or worse, the support of his parents.
“We should go away, on the Promepolis Day long weekend,” Lio said.
“In February?” Galo asked.
“Yeah. Maybe you could teach me how to camp,” Lio replied.
“Step one is learning how to check for ticks.”
Lio snorted. He pressed a kiss to Galo’s cheek.
“I’ll see you after work,” he said.
Galo adjusted his brand new McMaccas hat and fired off a jaunty salute. He marched off towards the food court with a spring in his step. He managed to make his yellow and red uniform look good.
Gueira sidled over as Galo disappeared into the crowd. His hot dog had been replaced by an ice cream cup full of smarties.
“I can’t believe your boyfriend betrayed us by joining a burger place,” Gueira said.
“Your shift’s not over yet,” Lio replied.
“That’s okay,” Gueira said. “Cronyism will save me.”
Galo appeared at 5.15, as Lio was counting the register. He smelled like salt and fresh chips, even from three feet away. He smiled winningly and Lio’s heart did a little flip.
“So…” Galo said.
He set a bag of gummy teeth down on the counter between them.
“Mind doing me a solid?” he asked.
Lio laughed and Galo looked proud of himself.
“Yeah, sure,” Lio replied. “Why not?”
Notes:
Final artwork is by the wonderful Shamecornerart, for whom I am most grateful.
I finished this story on the stroke of midnight, no joke, at the end of the complete disaster of a year that was 2020. I'm glad that I was able to ring in the new year finishing off a story that took a lot of affection and over a year to write.
Hot Dawgs is the longest novella I've ever written. It's my love letter to Sydney, in a lot of ways. It's not perfect, but it's personal, and it has a special place in my heart.
Thank you for reading. All the best in 2021.
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