Page 30 of Your Hate, My Claim
“A hook-up?” Seb asks, and I turn to glare at him. Not wanting this attention.
“Why do any of you care?” I ask.
“Because it's affecting your job and you’re not yourself,” Dima says, and I let out a big sigh.
“It's Carlos, isn’t it?” Ivan says, and my whole body goes cold. Fear and anxiety start to build.
No, no, no. I can’t do this right now.
“If you mean that the fucker has insisted I go to Brazil for the favor because of my outburst, then yes, it’s to do with Carlos.”
“Brazil? That sounds fun,” Aaron says, and I don’t agree.
“What is your problem with him? Has he upset you?” Seb asks, and I look at Dima. I'm not sure what he sees, but it's enough for a recognition that the pieces are falling into place and he won’t push it. I’m grateful for this as everyone watching and listening to me is too much. My brain is confused enough without everyone else adding to it.
“Simon, come to my office so we can talk about the Brazil thing, then you can go get washed up,” Dima says and leaves the room, and I eagerly follow behind him, aware of everyone's eyes on me.
When we get inside, I close the door behind me and Dima points to the chair opposite his desk for me to sit in, which I do. I stare down at my entwined hands, unable to look at him.
“Listen, you know I’m not good at this shit. So I’ll just say what I think as your friend and as your boss, then whatever you do, is up to you.”
“Okay,” I say, and get the courage to look at him as he talks.
“Clearly, you’re going through something, which I can only speculate about. Personally, after listening to the guys gossiping and what I’ve see with my own eyes, I think you and Carlos like each other and have been fucking. I also think you’re afraid to come out and tell us, but I’m not sure if that's because it's Carlos, or because you’re gay.”
My breath is shallow, my skin clammy at hearing these words. It's like a tidal wave of emotions, waiting for something to happen which never comes. Then I’m left on edge like it will happen when I least expect it. Which is so fucking dumb.
“I think it's because you’re gay or whatever, and if that's right, I’m struggling to understand your hesitance to be open when this is the gayest family you’ll ever meet. Am I close?”
I don’t want to confirm, but I owe it to Dima to give him something. I gently nod and he sighs, sitting back in his chair. I don’t think he’s hurt, but his eyes are full of confusion and questions. Maybe disappointed?
“I’m sorry if we’ve done anything to make you feel that way,” he starts but I put my hand up to stop him.
“No, D. This is just a fucked up brain situation.”
“When you were younger? Before you came here, did something happen?”
“Yeah.”
“You know we got your back here and you do this when you’re ready. But I have to warn you, the boys know. It’s all they fucking talk about, you two hate fucking.”
I scoff at that. It's hard to hear but there is a tiny piece of relief. I just don’t know how to navigate this.
“You do what you need to do, but Simon, you can’t let this shit affect your work or our relationship with Carlos. Otherwise, we will have to have words and decide where to go as I have to have guards I can rely on and trust, you understand?”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry D. I’ll be good from now on, I swear.”
He relaxes and moves forward, leaning his elbows on the desk.
“Good. So you are to pay your debt in Brazil and deal with it without causing drama or a scene. Carlos’ family are very powerful and won’t take kindly to attitudes. You support Carlos as he tells you. Got it?”
“Yep.”
I really don’t, but I’ll try.
“I spoke to Carlos yesterday and you leave in two days. You’re flying in a private jet, courtesy of the Silva family bringing their boys home. Represent us well, Simon. Any problems, you know we’re here.”
“Thanks Dima.”
