Author's POV
Jotape and Santo had been drinking in silence for a while, each battling their own demons.
Santo was the first to break the silence:
"I was such a jerk, Brow. I yelled at the kid, said a bunch of crap because of a stupid book I bought for him. Turns out the little guy never even went to school, doesn't know how to read or write, and I acted like a total ass, yelling and everything."
"Yeah, you really screwed up, dude!"
Santo glared at his friend indignantly.
"Just apologize, man, be sincere. The little guy is a good kid, it'll make you feel better."
"I don't know, man, this time I messed up bad."
"You know the kid likes you, right? And from what I know about you, bro, you're smitten with him too."
"What the hell, man? Are you kidding? When have you ever seen me like guys?"
"Oh, right, because Allan is such a tough, manly man, huh? Wake up, dude. The kid is all delicate and sweet. And besides, opposites attract."
"You're trippin'."
"Am I? Then answer me this: all the stuff you do for the kid, would you do it for Farinha, for example, Seu Antonio's son from the stationery store? They're the same age. If Farinha was homeless, would you treat him the way you treat Allan?"
"Of course I'd help!"
"That's not what I asked, you jerk! Answer me this: you don't feel anything for the kid, not even desire, nothing? Imagine another guy hitting on him, him going out with another guy, kissing another guy, moving out of your place and living his life somewhere else."
With every word Jotape spoke, Santo's mind conjured up a scene: another guy hitting on Allan, saying something to make him smile, holding his hand, and kissing him—kissing his neck, smelling his scent, kissing his lips.
A maddening fury took hold of Santo just imagining these things happening. Nobody was going to kiss that beautiful neck, or smell that strawberry scent. And that mouth, those full, pink lips, they were his and his alone. If any guy was going to kiss Allan, it was going to be Santo and nobody else.
Jealousy was something Santo wasn't familiar with. He didn't know how to handle this feeling. He threw the bottle in his hand, feeling an infernal hatred for this imaginary man his own mind had created.
Jotape, knowing exactly what Santo was thinking, delivered his final blow.
"Dude, just go for it, stop thinking about what you are, about the name of this feeling. If you want the kid, go for it. I'm your brother, man, that won't change. Whatever decision you make, I'm by your side. I want to see you happy, and I think your happiness is 5'5" tall and has curly hair."
There was nowhere left to run. Santo had to admit, he liked Allan. He couldn't say if he was in love, but he wanted the boy for himself, he liked him. The little guy had won the big guy's heart with all his cuteness, his gentleness, and that delicious strawberry scent. Allan had brought color into Santo's life, a touch of sweetness that he didn't even know he needed until he arrived.
He was smitten with the kid, he couldn't deny it. Besides, he was crazy attracted to him. He tried to restrain himself, to stifle that thought, to avoid dealing with the emotions he felt. But it was inevitable. He desired Allan, body and soul. It was time to face this truth and take action.
"You know what, screw it. I'm going after that kid and I'm going to make him forgive me. If he wants me, we'll be together, and to hell with everyone else."
He spoke as he got up, getting ready to leave.
Santo was speaking more to affirm these things to himself than to Jotape, who was proud of his friend's courage.
Santo stopped at the door and said,
"Wait, what about you, man? Aren't you going to tell me what's going on?"
"I'm in the same boat as you, man. I met the woman of my life."
"Well, isn't that a good thing? What's wrong? Is she married or something?"
"She's trans, man."
"So just take everything you told me and repeat it to yourself, Carai. There's no difference."
"I don't know, man, it's complicated. I don't know if I'm into her enough to deal with all that."
"Imagine another guy hitting on her, her going out with another guy, kissing another guy, marrying another guy, and moving out of the neighborhood."
Jotape tasted his own medicine. And it wasn't good at all. Just thinking about his princess with another guy made him want to shoot the bastard.
He stood up, following his friend.
"I'm going after my woman."
And so the two left, determined to win over their loved ones. It wouldn't be an easy mission, but if anyone could do it, it was these two.
Allan
Allan was in his room, unable to stop crying. He was hurt, thinking about the days when he felt bad for not telling Santo that he couldn't read or write. He wanted to tell him, but he was ashamed.
They were doing so well, the moments they spent together were the best of Allan's life, he didn't want to ruin everything. He didn't want Santo to think he was stupid, let alone pity him. He didn't want anything to change, he wanted to stay in that moment forever.
But it's no surprise that Allan's life was never just roses, and everything Allan didn't want happened. The thorns appeared, and Allan returned to a reality he already knew—pain.
He felt so foolish. How could he think that that beautiful man would ever look at him with interest, that every gesture of affection that had enchanted and warmed his heart was motivated only by pity? It broke Allan's heart. It wasn't pity that he wanted Santo to feel for him.
But how, Allan wondered, could anyone like a freak like me? I don't know anything about life, I'm not smart, I'm not handsome or seductive, there's nothing admirable about me. There's no way he could like me.
Allan didn't even dream of love, for he thought it impossible for anyone to love him, being who and how he was.
He didn't know what he would do with his life from that day forward, where he would go. Santo certainly wouldn't want him there, as he himself had said, the charity was over. He couldn't bear to look Santo in the eye again either. What if Santo had perceived his feelings, and rejected him?
He couldn't bear to hear Santo reject him; he preferred to leave first, preserving what little dignity he miraculously had left.
Already planning to ask for shelter from Maria, who had become like a mother to him, Allan got up and walked to the door, but when he opened it, he came face to face with the one person he didn't want to see.
Jotape walked with long strides towards Ariel's house. He was determined to win over the brunette at all costs, and he already had the perfect excuse to start.
"Wait for me, Princess, your prince is coming."
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