“Your thug son asked my son out on a date tomorrow afternoon, and I don't want him to put any bad ideas in his head so I need you to help me keep them away as much as possible.”
Achilles blinked slowly, trying to decipher whether the words he'd heard were actually Greek, or if he even knew how to speak Greek; perhaps he really only knew how to speak Spanish, and that was why what Odysseus had just said to him sounded like a meaningless jumble of random words spoken with absurd rapidity. Or perhaps it was only ten in the morning on a Saturday—his day off, mind you—and he'd just gotten out of bed.
Whatever it is, what the hell was Odysseus doing in his house?
"What are you doing in my house?"
"Didn't you…?" Odysseus clicked his tongue. "Where's Patroclus? I want to talk to someone who actually has functioning neurons."
"My neurons are working well enough."
"Then you can help me keep Neo and Telemachus from dating."
Achilles narrowed his eyes, as if trying to process what Odysseus had just said.
Why would he stop his son from going on a date with his boyfriend? What was the point of that? If they both like each other… Why not just let them be?
Was Odysseus homophobic? He didn't seem to mind that he dated Patroclus the years he was on the ELAU baseball team. He was even invited to their wedding and attended with no complaints. Has he become homophobic in recent years?
"Come on, Ody, don't be like that. Biden's the president now, be more tolerant."
It was Odysseus's turn to blink in confusion.
"What?"
"You know... I mean, I know we've been under a Republican government for the past few years, but not anymore, so what's the point in being so intolerant?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Don't be homophobic, man!”
“What the–?! I'm not homophobic, damn it!”
“Oh yeah? Then why don't you want your son and my son to be together?”
“Because your son is a fucking crook!”
“My son isn't any of those things, you stupid, filthy old coot!”
Their discussion was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the main chamber door opening and a loud groan.
Patroclus emerged from the room, adjusting his glasses and trying to adjust his vision to the sudden brightness from outside.
"What's all the noise about, damn it?" he complained.
"Sweetheart! Can't you guess what's going on? I got up to see who's knocking at the door, and it turned out to be that good-for-nothing Odysseus calling the fruit of our passion a thug."
Patroclus blinked several times, trying to process the words he'd heard.
"Do you...? You mean Pyrrhus?”
"Look, Patroclus, I'd rather talk about this with you than with... him," Odysseus began again.
"Well, here I am, aren't I? Against my will..."
"I'm sorry to wake you, really. I have nothing against you. I'm sure at least Patroclus is a good father."
"Deidamia is a good mother too," Patroclus added.
"Ah, Dei! A sweetheart. I wish Neo were more like her."
"Instead of...?"
"You know."
Of course.
Odysseus finished entering the house—invited by Pat. If it were up to Achilles, he could die on the wild bushes on his porch—and sat down in one of the living room armchairs with a cup of coffee that Patroclus offered him in his hands—They were Greeks, for God's sake! What kind of hosts would they be if their guest left the house without their mouths numbed by the sweetness of a good coffee prepared with an old and washed out briki?
Achilles had tied his hair back in a low ponytail and watched the conversation taking place from a corner with his arms crossed and a frown.
"I think you can sympathize with me, Patroclus," said Odysseus. "You're a father too, after all."
The damn child isn't even his, for God's sake! If he wanted to humiliate my fatherhood so blatantly, he could've brought Deidamia, he thought.
"What's your concern, exactly?"
Odysseus placed his coffee cup on the small table in front of him.
"I'll be honest and spare myself the diplomacy. I don't want my Telemachus and your Neoptolemus to be together because I want my son to go to a good college and end up in the senate as a representative of the state of California and not in a ketamine rehab center at thirty.”
Ketamine, for God's sake. The hardest thing Neo has ever done are percs… under Achilles' knowledge.
"I won't say I'm surprised by your impression of Neo, but I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. Neoptolemus is a quiet, reserved boy, and a good student. He doesn't do things like that."
Odysseus smiled.
"Oh, you're right, thank you. I don't have to worry about him turning Tele into a drug addict, but about them fucking in someone else's office."
Patroclus gasped. The perfect moment for Achilles to confront him.
"Are you still bitter about that?! Man, it's been twelve years!"
"And I still can't walk into that damn office without feeling your hormonal presence lurking there! I can only expect such behavior from a filthy Aeacid like you or your degenerate son! He's not going to put any ideas in my little boy's head, period!”
Achilles rolled his eyes.
"You're infantilizing him too much. Who knows what that boy’s doing! Maybe he's the one putting ideas into Neo's head." Then he plasters a cheeky grin on his face. "Yeah, he looks like one of those. The kind who's all saints in front of his parents but doesn't think twice before getting down on his knees between your legs and sucking you off in the back of a packed movie theater."
"For God's sake, Achilles..." Patroclus mutters.
“Maybe it's genetic. I should contact Diomedes and find out.”
“Achilles, shut the fuck up!”
Neither of them was particularly surprised to hear Patroclus scream; even the most patient man has his limits. Odysseus covered his face with both hands—maybe if he scrubbed it hard enough, he could get rid of the anger seething beneath his skin.
At that moment, he wondered, what was the point of driving to these two men's house? What was the ultimate goal? As always, the burden of protecting his poor offspring fell solely on him. Not even Penelope fully understood the gravity of the matter. Didn't anyone see the aura of evil surrounding that boy? Wasn't his red hair enough of a warning sign?
"You know what? It was a mistake to come here. Have a nice day, both of you. I have to go now."
On the way home, he would apologize by text or email. It would be too embarrassing to do so at that moment.
"No, Odysseus. Wait."
Odysseus rolled his eyes. "Now what do you want, Achilles? Did you think of another high school girl insult to throw at me?"
"No, no, none of that. Look, how about we let them have their date and secretly monitor them?"
"...I'm listening."
"Neo plans to take him to the only Longhorn Steakhouse in Cali, which is twenty minutes from here. We can go in disguise and see what they do. That way you'll have your peace of mind and I can prove to you that Neoptolemus is a decent guy. What do you think?"
The question was directed at Odysseus, of course. But if you asked Patroclus, he'd say it was a terrible idea, and that Achilles should be ashamed for even suggesting it. However, Odysseus reacted as if he'd just received seven million dollars in cash.
Of course, the two of them were on board with that plan. At the end of the day, they were more alike than they thought.
(...)
Saturday had arrived faster than he expected and, simultaneously, torturously slow. He wanted everything to go well between him and Telemachus. He wanted to leave a good impression on him so they could be the serious lovers he so desired. He might not be a prince with a shining crown like Pisistratus, nor was he half as intelligent as Polycaste, but he had some good qualities… he hoped.
Neoptolemus came from a broken, broken, very broken family. Both his father and mother were out of their mind, and Neo inherited their demons. His mother was the more stable of the two, while Patroclus was the only one capable of keeping his father at bay. They were improving as people; he was a witness to that. He held his mother in his arms as she sobbed and apologized for all the yelling, neglect, and fighting, just as he saw his father open up to him with a joint between his fingers and his cheeks soaked in tears. That was the first step on a rocky road to peace. And every year it seemed to get longer and longer, damn it.
They were aging, maturing, learning to let go and forgive. Years of therapy and kilos of Valium and Xanax had tamed them. But what was left of him? He still exploded. He still spewed venom. Always on the defensive, like a war veteran with a shotgun under his arm.
He wished he had one of those, now that he thought about it. If at any point during that date he opened his mouth and heard Achilles' voice coming out, he'd rather blow his head off.
His train of thought was interrupted by his bedroom door opening and his mother's shock of reddish curls peeking out.
"Pyrrhus, son, are you leaving now?" she asked softly.
"Yes, yes. Right now. Why?"
"Oh, well, I wanted to tell you to lock the door when you leave, okay? Oneiros is having a sleepover at a friend's, and I decided to make some plans with your aunts so I wouldn't be alone in the house." She explained. Then she frowned. "Are you going like that?"
Was there something wrong with the way he was dressed? Neo wondered as he looked in the mirror and studied his appearance. A buttoned-up shirt, ironed and perfumed, fitted khakis with a leather belt, and formal shoes. He thought he looked perfect for an evening like this.
"Like... how?"
“Oh, nothing, it's just… You look like you’re going to church. Is the boy Christian?”
“I think so, I'm not sure. But I don't know, should I change?”
"I didn't say that, it's just..." Pause "...different from how you usually dress."
"Well, this is a big deal for me."
"Of course, and I understand, honey. I'm just worried that you're forcing yourself to be someone you're not just to make him like you."
Neo hadn't thought of it that way, but perhaps it was true. Perhaps the need to distance himself as much as possible from his father's image was eating away at him so much that he was losing his authenticity.
"I'm going to put on my leather jacket."
His mother smiled.
"And some earrings, oh! And let your hair down."
(...)
Odysseus checked his watch. They had agreed to arrive at the restaurant at three to be there before the boys, who would arrive at four. Odysseus, always so punctual—not really—arrived at two-thirty, posing as a beggar. Or something like that. In truth, he only wore a fake beard from a Halloween costume, ragged clothes, and an old blanket he'd soiled in the yard. His sweet Penny looked at him in bewilderment, but kept her comments to herself.
It had to be working. As he arrived, a man gave him twenty dollars. All he gets from Americans when he's in his normal clothes is spit in the face.
"Sorry I'm late. Traffic is horrible at this time," Achilles greeted as he sat next to Odysseus at the restaurant's bar.
"It wouldn't be so horrible if you'd arrived an hour earlier like me."
"Well, we agreed on three, not twelve."
"I arrived at two-thirty, not twelve. What the hell are you wearing?"
And what the hell, his tanned skin gleamed the same shade as the gold cocktail dress he was wearing. Skin-tight, a little above the thigh, and flirtatiously open at the back. With shaved legs that ended in a pair of silver heeled sandals and a face softened with makeup, he looked like a completely different person.
"It's my costume. I have a ton of dresses like this in my closet."
"You look like a hooker."
"Thanks. That's the idea."
"Okay, you're a prostitute and I'm a bum. What a plan."
"Well, we never agree on coordinating costumes. Besides, we live in LA; you see prostitutes and bums drinking together on every corner."
"Not before 10 PM."
"Whatever. Hey!" He called the bartender, who turned around to answer him, and immediately changed his tone of voice. "Hey, handsome, what does a girl have to do to get a vodka lemonade in this place?"
The bartender laughed.
"I'll get it for you, babe, but I need to see your ID first."
"Sure."
The son of a bitch pulled his card out of a handbag. Of course. A handbag.
"You're prepared for anything, I see."
"This isn't the first time I've done something like this."
"Do you make a habit of spying on people dressed like a common whore?"
"No, idiot, I just walk around like this when there's a ladies' night at the bars in West Hollywood." He explained. "I have two IDs, mine and Pyrrha's."
"Oh, right, she has a name too."
"Why do you care so much? Are you even surprised this is something I do?"
"...Now that you mention it, not really."
"See? How long until they arrive?"
"They should be here soon, it's 3:55."
The bartender placed Achilles' drink in front of him, and Odysseus took the opportunity to order a glass of bourbon whiskey.
"How old were you when you came here?"
Achilles was startled by the question. Since when had he and Odysseus been on friendly terms?
"Thirteen."
Odysseus burst out laughing.
"You were just a little boy. Surely you don't remember anything, do you?"
"My mother lives in Athens. I visit her from time to time."
The older of the two shook his head as he received his glass of bourbon.
"It's not the same. There isn't much difference between Athens and here. And you're from Lamia, right? Big cities don't count. You have to get into the countryside to experience the real Greece."
"Please, you're an islander, what do you know?"
"More than you, spoiled brat." Odysseus spat, then took a deep gulp of his drink. "I just wanted to mention that my father owned a liquor store in Kioni, near the port, which was always packed with fishermen, both local and foreign."
"Oh?"
"Yes. I was just... remembering those days in my teens when I liked to sneak off with a flask full of sweet ouzo and drink with my friends on the dock."
"Well, look at the troublemaker, who's going to help me get my poor little boy away from someone raised by you?"
Odysseus frowned.
"Fuck off. I won't tell you anything else." He took a last sip of his whiskey with a hoarse sigh. "Anyway. American alcohol is crap. That's the moral."
"Congratulations."
(...)
Neo arrived at the restaurant with his heart pounding inside his chest. Telemachus looked handsome in his T-shirt and the plaid flannel that covered it. His hair seemed to have grown a little longer since he'd seen him. Did he have more moles on his face? Ah, he was overthinking it.
He was nervous, incredibly nervous. Honestly, Telemachus and he didn't start off on the best of terms, to put it mildly. They hated each other terribly. There were always fights, arguments, punches, and calls to the principal. Neoptolemus didn't care; he was the troublemaker, after all; voted in his class as "most likely to end up in jail after high school." But Telemachus... he had things to do; a future to aspire to. Neo was screwing all that up by causing him so much trouble.
The past is the past, and the present was this: that dreamy date under the dim lights of his parents' favorite steakhouse. There were lots of cowboy decorations everywhere, and a pretty woman led the way to their table. Nothing could ruin that moment.
"Salmon—Who orders salmon at a steakhouse? A mental hospital patient?" Telemachus asked, holding the menu in his hands to break the ice.
Neo shrugged. "Isn't your dad a fisherman? Maybe you should order that. It'll remind you of home."
"Ush, shut up. Don't ruin my good mood. Are you paying, or are we splitting the bill?"
"What? Sorry, that was a sudden question…I'll pay yours, why?"
"Fine, just so I know I have to order the most expensive dish and make you really upset."
Neo smiled. "You can't make me upset.”
“That I can't… And what was that before?”
“The fights? Oh, nothing, you were just annoying as shit and pissed me off a lot. But enraged? Nah. You haven't seen me genuinely enraged.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, if it takes so much effort to enrage you, it's best if I save it for something that benefits me…”
Telemachus' tone was slow, playful, drawing out the syllables with seductive intent. Neo smiled and leaned his face toward him.
“And that would be what…?”
Telemachus laughed. “Oh, you know… those kinds of situations where I wish you'd make me sing until dawn.”
It was Neo's turn to laugh.
(...)
Too much hee-hee and too much hahaha for Odysseus's taste, and he couldn't even see what they were talking about. It was all so unbearable. He had to do something.
Beside him, Achilles watched them out of the corner of his eye, a drink in his hand. And he smiled.
"I told you your son was a whore."
"Shut up. You can't even hear what they're saying. How can you say that?"
"Hmm, I don't have to listen to anything to know where the conversation is going. Takes one to know one," he explained, then took a sip of his drink. "And it wasn't my son who started it, mind you."
Odysseus clenched his fists in rage, watching them cackle while they ordered their food.
"That's it, we have to ruin their date."
"What? No, that's not why we came."
"I don't care. That was my original objective, and that's what we'll do."
"God, someone has to pull the stick out of your ass, man."
"Cooperate, for God's sake! Go over to their table and say Neo gave you herpes or something."
"What? Why Neo?"
"Are you seriously asking that question?"
"Well, I'm not going to say that about my own son. Are you nuts?”
"Jesus... all right, I'll go."
Before Odysseus could walk to the boys' table, Achilles grabbed his arm. "Relax for a moment, Ody, give them time! You don't want to make a scene so early, they're just getting there."
Odysseus closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and sighed before sitting back down on his stool.
"Does that mean you're willing to intervene later?"
"Yeah, take it that way if you want. Just leave them alone for now.”
(...)
By Neo's standards, the date was going pretty well. The conversation topics just flowed, and the food was pretty good. Decent. It was okay. Southern food, all things considered.
He and Telemachus had been seeing each other for almost a year, and this was their first date, as well as the first step toward calling themselves boyfriends. Boyfriends. Ah, his boyfriend. His beautiful boyfriend with hair as dark as his eyes and tanned skin adorned with adorable moles.
He wished they weren't so far away so he could lean in and kiss the butter off his lips.
"You're looking at me."
"Oh really? It's almost like we're on a date. I can watch the game instead, if you want."
Telemachus smiled half-heartedly.
"You're looking at me like you want to eat me."
Was that true? Maybe. When wasn't Neo looking at him like that?
He smiled back, cheeks flushed. “Well, I refrained from ordering dessert for me a reason.”
That made his (almost) boyfriend laugh. Tele then wiped his lips with a napkin and dropped his cutlery onto his plate with a clatter.
“What are you doing after graduation?”
The sudden change of subject left Neo stunned for a moment.
“Me? Well, ELAU offered me an athletic scholarship after last week's game, so I guess that's what I'll do.”
“And is that what you want to do, or...?
“Baseball? Of course. I've always liked it. I just... I don't know. I don't know what to study. Maybe I'll just go into literature or something.”
Telemachus sighed. “At least you have it simple. My dad wants me to go into law school.”
Neo burst out laughing.
"What? Do you find my misery funny?"
"It's not that, just... God, law? You?"
"Why? I'd make an amazing lawyer."
"Not at all. A little pressure and you'd burst into tears in court."
"Fuck you. No, I wouldn't."
"Oh, no, you're right. You wouldn't cry, you'd just turn red like you’re about to cry but never actually do it."
“Actually fuck you. I was looking for a way to change my dad's mind, but now I'm going to go into law just to wipe the smile off your face."
"So why don't you like law? Being a lawyer pays well.”
“Yeah, but my dad doesn't just want me to be a lawyer; he wants me to be a senator in the future. It's not, like, one of those jobs that pays well and you can quit after a while; like checking the sushi restaurant's website and realizing they pay twenty-five an hour as a waiter. This is serious.”
“Damn.”
“See?”
“What if you do something else? You're eighteen now, and we graduate in a month. What can he do?”
“Well... I don't know.”
“Are you afraid he'll kick you out of the house?”
“No way! I just... I don't know. I don't think he'd get over it. The ghost of his eternal disappointment would haunt me for the rest of my life, or something.”
“So not worth it?”
“No.”
“What would you like to study instead of law?”
“Music theory, one hundred percent. I'd like to be a great musician someday.”
“Hey, look on the bright side: with your influence as a senator and your money, you could start a music career.”
Tele blinked several times. Neo found him charming.
“Really?”
“That’s how I see it. The only way you could afford a music career would be with state money, anyway.”
Telemachus frowned. “Senator and musician?”
“It’s not like it's new. Wasn’t Jimmy Carter a rock star before he became president?”
“No… but I want to kiss you so badly, I’ll let that slide.”
“Did the idea turn you on?”
“Not really, but I think I can find a way to convince my dad.” He smiled back, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Get the check, quick. If I don’t get my hands on you as soon as possible, I think I’ll die.”
Neo agreed. He’d been agreeing for hours. Maybe his whole life.
(...)
Odysseus slammed his hand against the bar so hard it made Achilles look up from his phone immediately. The guys were gone. They were leaving. Laughing and holding hands. Ah, what it's like to be young and in love.
Well, the man next to him didn't seem to share the sentiment. He was frowning and clenching his fists.
Odysseus stood up determinedly. "That's it. We have to intervene."
"What? No. Wait."
Achilles grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back into his seat, but Odysseus managed to wriggle free. For such a small man, he certainly had quite a bit of strength.
Then, he had no choice but to start chasing him. Chase him through the restaurant, toward the exit. Of course. A few curious eyes followed them to their destination, but neither Achilles or Odysseus cared.
Were they making an scene? It almost seemed like it. Maybe they were about to make an scene.
Did I pay for the vodka lemonade? I don't remember... Well, I'm too pretty for that to matter.
"Hey! Ody, wait!
"Can't you see them?! God knows what they're going to do in that car! Just let me go and stop them!"
The boys were on the other side of the parking lot, but Odysseus and Achilles were shouting so loudly that it was inevitable for them to look up. Big mistake.
"But it was all right! Why do you care so much?"
"You don't understand!"
"Test me! Maybe I won't understand, but at least I’d know. I'm nosy."
Odysseus clicked his tongue and let out a frustrated sound.
"God, everything's a joke to you! Isn't it? You walk around like nothing matters!"
“Let me think. Do I care about the relationship between two highschoolers? No. Not really"
"They're not just two highschoolers! They're our kids!"
"Dude, relax! It's not like Neo's going to give your son acid or something while he sucks his dick on the driver's seat. He's too much of a chicken for that.”
"No, that kid is just like you. And I know what men like you are like. You just want one thing, take it, and leave!”
"What the hell are you talking about now?"
"Are you going to ask like you don't understand? Please. It's always the same with you guys. You approach vulnerable, clueless guys with your free spirit and your disinterested attitude, flirt with them for a while until they're pinned against the back counters of their dad's liquor store, and then you don't return their calls anymore!”
“Holy shit, wait.”
Across the parking lot, like everyone else, Neoptolemus and Telemachus were staring at the scene in front of them. A prostitute and a homeless man arguing about who-knows-what. Nothing out of the ordinary in the city, really, but entertaining enough to break the routine.
There was a pause. It seemed the conversation was about to take a different turn.
“This isn't about Neo, or me—although I don't know why you brought me into this—It's about Diomedes. You're not over Diomedes!”
“Good heavens, shut up,” Odysseus spat, despite being unable to look Achilles in the eye.
“Of course, that makes sense. You were just projecting! Shit, man, you need a lot of therapy.”
“Will you stop?”
“No, I mean, it’s cute. Your relationship with Diomedes gave you a hard time, and you don’t want Telemachus to go through the same thing. It’s sweet,” Achilles said in a sincere voice, only to top it off with a cheeky grin. “At the back tables of your father’s liquor store? You filthy whore.”
“Enough! I don’t need this. I love my wife.”
“Oh, calm down, I’m pretty sure of that. I swear I’ve seen the pictures of her in your wallet more than I’ve seen my mother in my entire life.” He yelled. “You have a beautiful marriage, man, I can tell, and the last thing I want to do is question that. But, like, is it so hard for you to believe you loved other people before her? Specifically, another man.”
Odysseus clicked his tongue. “That thing was barely love, we just got each other off occasionally.”
“Are you sure? Because, based on the tantrum you’re throwing right now, it doesn’t sound like ‘barely love’ to me.”
Damn it, was that his dad?! What the hell was he doing dressed like that?! And who the hell was he talking to?!
Neo wanted to start the car and jump in while it was moving. This couldn't be happening.
"Are you okay?" Telemachus asked from beside him, but he could barely hear over the mess in his head.
Of course, he had to ruin his evening. He had to ruin everything. As always.
Odysseus, for his part, was speechless, unable to look anywhere but the asphalt of the parking lot. The people around him huddled in small groups to watch the argument. Small murmurs here and there, but Odysseus didn't care. Nothing mattered to him anymore, at that moment. He was being an asshole.
The sun was setting. Almost. How long had they been there?
"I don't know what your relationship with Diomedes was like," Achilles continued. “It looks like it was difficult, if he still has you like this. You should talk to him about it, man. Make peace. Close that chapter of your life.”
"He doesn't answer my calls..." Odysseus whispered plaintively.
"Surely there are other ways you can communicate with him, right? You can't assume you were the only one hurt in the relationship. Give him time. Maybe he changed his number. A lot of things could have happened."
There's a pause. A silence. The people around him begin to dissipate, which makes Odysseus feel calmer. Even if he's still in a public space talking about his feelings while dressed like a homeless person with a man dressed like a hooker.
He sighed. "It was my fault. I was the one who cut it off," he confessed. "It's just... It was too much, you know? And there was nothing we could do. What could Diomedes and I do? you know what I mean?" There was no future there, even if we loved each other so much. It wasn't like we could get married. My parents and I moved here, and then I met Penelope. She... she was my angel of light in the middle of darkness. With her, there was no confusion or anything. I knew I wanted to marry her, I knew I wanted to have children with her. It was all so clear and simple.”
He swallowed, as if he was on the verge of tears and was holding it back.
"We promised to keep in touch, but I didn't see him again until that game; thirteen years ago. Everything was so weird. He treated me as a friend then, but... I don't know." He sighed. "You remind me of him a lot. You always did. When he was Neo's age, he was just as careless; going through life without ties or commitments. As well as stubborn and arrogant. Just like you."
"Well... Neo is not me."
"Yes, yes, you're right. Neo is not Achilles." He agreed defeatedly, more to himself. “Neo is not Achilles. I have to remind myself of that."
"And Achilles isn't Diomedes," Achilles added. "Remember that."
Odysseus groaned audibly.
"Yes, yes. Achilles isn't Diomedes…”
Achilles plastered a triumphant smile on his face.
"Good! Since we've got that sorted, can we go? The night is young, and I want to make the most of this dress."
"I don't want you to tell me how. But, yes."
"You have to tell me everything, man. How did you two meet?"
Odysseus sighed for what felt like the thousandth time of the evening.
"His dad's rich, and one summer he got the urge to spend it fishing in Ithaca with his son. He became friends with my dad, and we'd hang out either at the dock or at his house in Argos with his baseball coach."
"Damn, and you fucked on the dock?"
"...Yeah."
"You fucking whore!”
(...)
Telemachus stared as the prostitute and the homeless man walked deeper into the parking lot. Looking closer, they seemed familiar.
…Wait.
“Holy shit, is that your dad? Holy shit, is that my dad?!”
Neoptolemus gripped the steering wheel tightly and closed his eyes. This wasn’t happening. This was a fever dream. This wasn’t happening…
But it was real, dammit. Damn it. Damn it. Of course it was real. Did God hate him that much?
Telemachus got out of the car, and Neo saw no choice but to follow him to confront the pair of idiots and demand an explanation.
“Hi, guys! How was everything? Did you have a good time?”
Neo frowned, starting to get angry.
“Dad, what the fuck are you doing here? And dressed like that!”
"What's the matter? The bartender didn't charge me for the vodka lemonade I ordered. It was worth it."
God, Neo wanted to scream and die, scream and die again and again.
"Were you spying on us?" Telemachus interjected.
"No!" Odysseus hurried to answer. "Yes...?"
"Jesus Christ," Neoptolemus muttered.
"We just wanted to make sure everything was going well, okay.”
"Don't you trust us?"
Achilles interrupted. "Oh, I trust you completely. It was more your father who was afraid you'd end up on the streets or something."
Tele blinked in confusion.
"What...?"
"And that's why you had to embarrass me?" Neo bellowed.
Achilles tilted his head. "What? You didn't even know I was here.”
Neo clicked his tongue. "Classic. When everything seems to be going well for me, you always find a way to come and ruin everything."
"But your date went perfectly!"
"And yet you still managed to ruin it, dad! Congratulations!"
"Oh, for God's sake, Neo, I'm tired. Why don't we save this conversation for later?"
Just as Neoptolemus was about to answer, Telemachus took his hand, immediately silencing his entire train of thought. He saw him, and his dark eyes conveyed the reassurance he needed, like a bucket of water extinguishing the fire inside him.
He took a deep breath and sighed in defeat.
"All right. I guess this parking lot has had enough scenes for one day."
Achilles smiled.
"Wow, you've go him totally at bay, don't you? Keep it up, champ!" He congratulated Telemachus. "Well, I'm going to my car. You guys do your thing. Goodbye."
With Achilles gone, Telemachus, Odysseus, and Neoptolemus were left in the parking lot.
It was almost like a nightmare. Suddenly, Neo began to feel a tangle of nerves gathering in the pit of his stomach and spreading throughout his body. Officially introducing himself to the parents was the second step, and he wasn't ready yet.
Odysseus's furrowed brow didn't help calm him down at all. He looked intimidating even in his disguise.
Neo cleared his throat.
"Sir, it's a pleasure to see you," he stammered.
Odysseus lingered, crossing his arms for a few seconds. So long that Neo thought he was going to spit in his face. Instead, he smiled.
"The pleasure's mine, lad. I'm glad you had a good date.”
Neo blinked in surprise. Well, it wasn't the reaction he'd expected, but that was definitely a good thing!
From what he'd heard, Odysseus was a rather strict and overprotective man. If so, he was grateful he was restraining himself. At least for the moment.
He turned his attention to Telemachus, who looked just as puzzled—but no less pleased—as he was.
"Do you want to go in my car, or will you go with him?" he asked.
Telemachus blinked away his train of thought and looked at his boyfriend. Then he nodded.
"Yes, I'll go with him. There's a lot to talk about."
"You can say it. I have a lot to talk about with mine, too."
"So..." Telemachus mumbled sheepishly. "See you later?"
Neo nodded with a smile. "Of course."
Odysseus took his son by the wrist and waved goodbye to Neo.
"Good night, lad. Take care."
"Likewise, sir!"
It had been an evening filled with chaos, arguments, and conflicting emotions. Odysseus unearthed the bones of something. Something he thought he'd overcome years ago, and whose ghost never ceased to haunt him. He had to confront those emotions, since it was clear they weren't letting him live in peace, and let go of what couldn't be. Starting next week, he would undoubtedly start therapy.
Ah, but in the end, everything was fine. That boy, Neoptolemus, turned out to be a gentleman. He behaved well throughout the evening, paid for both of their meals, and spoke to Odysseus formally. He had misjudged him. It was obvious that the most important people in his upbringing were Deidamia and Patroclus. There was no way Achilles could have participated in such chivalry.
His son seemed happy, which was the most important thing. And he wanted nothing more than the happiness of his Telemachus.
“Dad?"
“Yes, son?"
“Did you know that Jimmy Carter was a rock singer before he became president?”
Date: June 8th 2025