Be Myself! - 37. Halloween in September

The shiny ginger ball of talkative energy that also answered by the name of ‘Oliver’ kept bouncing away for the rest of the week. After the workshop on Tuesday, all the way to Friday, his coming out got a great response from his classmates, which only fuelled his enthusiastic energy further. Every day after school he would eagerly tell his family and me all the details of his classes, and how the teachers had no problems calling him by his new name and pronouns.

“Are you doing your homework on your own initiative too?” I asked Oliver early on Saturday morning. I had woken up to find my boyfriend hunching over his desk. He had not bothered to lift the curtains, and seemed to be struggling to see in the near-darkness.

“Hell no! I’m not that happy about school.” Oliver laughed. “I mean, sure it was the best week of school ever, apart from Monday, but no amount of happy days will make me enjoy homework!”

“Ok, fine. I think I’m a bit relieved to hear that.” I started to get up from the bed, but Oliver had other plans. I merely blinked, and he suddenly appeared on my lap.

“I missed you, Oscar.” Oliver pouted. It was kind of cute.

“But I was here the whole time. We were, like, cuddling and everything.” Oliver shifted position a little, and I began to have an idea of where this was going. Oliver grinned.

“Yeah, I know that. I meant to say that I missed you. Or rather, some parts of you,” Oliver explained. To demonstrate his point, he grabbed the hem of my shirt.

“Oh, so you miss my pyjamas, then? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I joked, trying to keep a straight face. Oliver almost took me seriously, but then he realised what I was trying to do and his grin became even wider.

“You’re joking about sex? Never mind me being out of character, what the hell happened to you?” Oliver raised an eyebrow and laughed.

“I don’t know. I think your good mood got to me or something,” I answered. “One week of daily exposure to bouncing happy Oliver has probably messed up my brain.”

“In a good or bad way?” Oliver asked, more joking than concerned.

“Oh, in a very good way.” Oliver’s happiness messed up my brain so much I voluntarily grabbed his ass and pulled him for a kiss. It was the first time I initiated such blatant intimate contact. I was rewarded by having Oliver moan in surprise while our lips touched. It was surprisingly sexy.

Lube and condom wrappers were thrown around, clothing items flew away, and about half an hour later Oliver ensured that any family member still lost in the whelm of dreams would be abruptly chased away from slumber. It did not feel as embarrassing as it usually did; I was either getting used to the way Oliver’s no-sex-shame family worked, or Oliver’s happiness was really messing up my boundaries. One way or another, it soon ended with us both lying on bed with dreamy smiles plastered on our faces (and, in Oliver’s case, an obvious bite mark on the neck in a disturbing shade of purple).

“You do know we’re supposed to get ready for Luce’s party later today, right?” I asked Oliver, caressing his hair to keep me from falling back to sleep so soon after waking up.

“Yep. I was doing just that until you woke up,” Oliver answered. His hand was still lying on my crotch, but I was not going to tell him to take it back. “I was trying to come up with signs to wear on my costume.”

“Signs for what?”

“I’m going to be my very own Death Bringer. I need to point people towards their deaths, so I need some amusing directions to point them to,” Oliver explained. “So far I’ve got ‘point of no return’, ‘where the sun doesn’t shine’, ‘’soul depot’ and ‘existential void’. Any suggestions?”

“I can’t think of death-related topics right now, sorry.” Oliver laughed and hugged me. He was still wearing his pyjama shirt, which was drenched in sweat. It was not a very pleasant hug, but at least it was brief.

“Fine, let’s go get breakfast. Dad should be up by now, so we can get him to make his heavenly hot chocolate.” Oliver jumped out of the bed, turned his back to me and got dressed in about thirty seconds. I followed him at a much slower pace, so that by the time I caught up with him, Oliver was already in the kitchen chatting to his father. Mr Viñas was almost done making the first hot chocolate.

“Here it is, then, to refill your energy.” Mr Viñas winked knowingly to his son, who laughed wholeheartedly. I had barely reached the kitchen door at this point, they had not seen me approach yet, so I decided to step back and hide in the corridor until the sudden wave of embarrassment left my body (and until I was sure Oliver had stopped talking about our sex life to his father).

As my luck would have it, though, Sam chose that exact moment to come out of his room. He easily spotted me and my discomfort. “Are you here because you just fucked my brother’s brains out and are too ashamed to face dad about it?” Sam asked so bluntly I could not react straightaway. I answered in the most eloquent way I could manage.

“What?”

“Seriously?” Sam’s eyebrows went so far up in his forehead I thought they were going to take flight. “Argh, I never want to become a teenager. They’re all pathetic. Can’t even handle a bit of sex.” Sam turned away from me rather dramatically and entered the kitchen. At this point, it would have been too much to expect the eight-year-old to empathise with my discomfort.

“Thanks for waking me up with your teenage feels, brother. Your boyfriend is waiting outside because he hasn’t got the guts to look at dad in the eye after the savagery he must have done to you.” And sure enough, Oliver’s curious head popped out of the door two seconds later.

“Hi, Oscar.” He greeted me like he was seeing me for the first time that morning. “Want to come in and have some hot chocolate? I promise I won’t say anything that could embarrass you.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that…” Oliver’s father and kid brother already knew all about what we had done. There was no point trying to change the subject now.

“It’s ok, Oscar.” Mr Viñas’s head appeared above Oliver’s. “I’m sorry this situation is making you embarrassed. Should Sam and I leave so you can have breakfast in peace?”

“But dad!” I head Sam protest from the kitchen. Mr Viñas’s head turned to glare at him and Sam promptly shut up.

“I don’t want to make you leave. It’s your kitchen and your house, and I shouldn’t impose myself that way,” I answered, breaking eye contact to look at the ground.

“Bullshit,” Mr Viñas deadpanned. “You’ve been here long enough to qualify as part of the family; you’re not just a ‘guest’ anymore. I made you a hot chocolate too, hope you like it.” Mr Viñas turned to Sam again. “Come on, Sam. Didn’t you mention yesterday that there was a drawing you wanted to show me?”

“Oh, yeah!” Sam jumped from his seat and dragged his father along the corridor. “I drew a purple unicorn! All my teachers loved it! It looks really cool! And his name is Ceres!”

“Any particular reason for that name?” Mr Viñas asked. Sam was standing in front of his bedroom door trying to build up the suspense before he opened it.

“Ceres asked for it. When I finished him, he said ‘now call me Ceres and never forget me’.” Sam smiled proudly. He seemed to really believe his story. His father did not question it either.

“Oh, I see. Well, then, show me Ceres.”

“Right this way, Dad!” Sam finally opened the door, and he and his father disappeared into the room.

Oliver coaxed me into the kitchen and convinced me to sit and drink my hot chocolate with him. It was definitely the best hot chocolate I had ever tasted, but the whole time I stayed in the kitchen I could not stop thinking about what Mr Viñas had told me about being part of this family. Being included like that made me feel warm and fuzzy, but it also reminded me that my own family probably did not think as highly of me anymore. I had not been to their house for three weeks now, and I never told them I was not going home. I had simply stopped showing up, and they never bothered to call me back.

(...)

Luce’s Halloween party took place mostly in her back garden, where there was more than enough space for two dozen teenagers to scatter, chat, or make out in plain view. When Oliver and I arrived at around six in the early evening, Jean was already working on that last option. He was wearing a shirt that had been so torn and ripped up it barely qualified as an item of clothing anymore. There were more holes than fabric there, and it worked perfectly to show off his well-toned upper body. His trousers were in a similar state, but thankfully his crotch area was still completely covered. His ass, on the other hand…

“Is that Henry making out with Jean?” Oliver asked. A green hand with very badly manicured nails grabbed Jean’s very exposed ass. It belonged to someone who had their entire upper body painted in the same decomposing-green colour and whose hair was a close match to Henry’s. From where we were standing, however, we could not see their face.

“That’s Henry all right,” someone spoke from behind us. We turned, and saw Hannah dressed in a faded red dress with skeleton-style make-up covering her face. She looked really scary. “They’ve been like this since Jean and I got here.”

“I’m glad they’re having fun.” Oliver smiled.

“Fun? You should’ve seen Ariadne and Helena…” Hannah pointed to another corner of the garden, where we could just make out two people in white dresses doing things that caused the bushes around them to shake violently.

“Are you ever going to make out with someone?” Oliver innocently asked Hannah. She scowled, becoming even scarier.

“Maybe, but no one here really fits my standards.” She sighed. “I don’t mind waiting. I have more important things to do.”

“Like what?” Oliver asked again.

“Like getting into a good university so I can get a degree and earn a lot of money at my job.”

“Ok, good luck with that.” Just as Oliver and I were thinking of going somewhere else, Luce and Charlie seemingly materialised in front of us.

“Hi there! Enjoying the party?” Luce asked. She and Charlie had fitted together inside one oversized jumper and walked sideways with their backs to each other, so that their ‘front’ was actually half of each of their heads.

“We just got here, but so far, so good,” Oliver answered for both of us. “Happy birthday, Luce!” He handed her our gifts, but Luce shook her head.

“I can’t quite deal with them at the moment.” She lifted the one arm that she had passed through the oversized jumper to prove her point. “I’m asking all the guests who brought gifts to take them to the living room instead. Would you mind? I’m planning to open them all together at the end, with just my closest friends around.”

“No problem, we’ll be back soon.” Oliver nodded, and dragged me inside Luce’s house again. We quickly located a pile of presents on top of the dining table and left our gifts there.

“Do you hear that?” I asked Oliver.

“Hear what?” he asked me, completely clueless.

“I think I can hear a violin somewhere. Maybe upstairs?” Most of the lower floor of Luce’s house was an open space that joined kitchen, dining room, and living room. I could hear a faint violin sound close by, but there was no one playing around us.

“Do you want to go check? I can’t hear anything.” Oliver offered, motioning towards the stairs.

“I don’t know if we should. It’s Luce’s house, she probably doesn’t want us messing around her bedroom.” I hesitated, but Oliver started to climb the stairs before I could stop him.

“It’ll be quick, and we won’t steal anything.” With my boyfriend already half the way up the stairs, I saw no other option but to follow him. The violin sound became much more audible on the upper floor. It seemed to come from the second door in the hallway. “Ok, now I hear it too. You were right.”

“I would recognise violins anywhere. I play viola, remember?”

“Not really. You haven’t played anything since last year’s exams.” Oliver shrugged, but I felt a little disappointed that my boyfriend could not remember my musical aspiration. Not that it was his fault, after all, my father had told me to drop music at the beginning of the new school year, and stopped paying for lessons so that I could focus on ‘the things that really mattered’. So all this time my viola had been hiding in my wardrobe, out of sight and out of mind.

“I think I miss it.” We had stopped in front of the door. Whoever was playing was not very good at it. They were trying to play ‘Happy Birthday to You’, but kept getting the notes slightly out of tune.

“Viola is like the big violin, right? Maybe you can ask if they would let you play a bit,” Oliver suggested.

“I don’t know. We shouldn’t even be here…”

Just then the music stopped, and the middle door opened. Lucius, one of Luce’s brothers, smiled at us.

“Can you play this thing?” he asked, handing me the violin. “I’ve been trying to learn for a while, but it doesn’t seem to be my thing. I was planning to play something for Luce, but it doesn’t sound right.” Lucius was short and stocky, with the kind of muscle that suggested he went to the gym nearly every day. It surprised me that such a person would be interested in learning to play something as delicate as the violin.

“I play viola; it’s not quite the same,” I explained. Lucius still seemed hopeful, though.

“But it’s similar, right? Do you think you can play something for Luce instead of me? I don’t really want to embarrass her with my lack of skills.” Lucius’s eyes were big and very expressive, and they were giving me the perfect ‘please help me’ stare. The man looked like a lost puppy, and I felt really sorry for him.

“How about I try to help you get it right first?” I offered. Lucius’s eyes were beginning to make me feel sad.

“If you think you can do it in the next fifteen minutes…”

“We can try. If I can’t, I’ll play for your sister.”

“Thank you! Thank you!” Lucius shook my hand enthusiastically and invited me into the room. I glanced towards Oliver, wondering if he would like to stay with me, but he was already making his way to the stairs.

“Enjoy your music time! I’ll be hanging around with people and telling them where to go to their deaths!” Oliver exclaimed, pointing to the bits of paper stuck all over his black poncho-like thing that he was using as a costume. “Bye, bye!”

“Bye!” I watched Oliver rush down the stairs, then entered the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Lucius sat on an old-looking bed stuck in the right corner, and indicated that I should join him. There was a music stand in front of the bed, and the violin case lay on top of the desk in the opposite corner of the room. The large window on the back wall oversaw the garden and the party. All of the room decorations and the colour scheme made it clear it belonged to a very masculine person, but as far as I remembered, Lucius was Luce’s oldest brother and no longer lived with his parents, which meant this room belonged to Luce’s other brother, Lugh.

“Ok. Please help me. I’m at your mercy.” Lucius’s desperation was sad and endearing at the same time. He was a fully grown man (probably close to ten years older than me), but he seemed like a lost child looking up to his teacher. It was not a comfortable position for me, because I felt obliged to help him and make him succeed no matter what. I did not want to disappoint him.

“I’ll try, but I can’t really guarantee anything. How much do you know?”

“I’ve had the violin for two months or so, got it from a friend who was moving away and couldn’t keep it. I only had two lessons so far, though, because I don’t have much time to practice.” Lucius explained.

“Ok, then, maybe the best thing to do is to try to teach you to get the rights notes for now, and forget about everything else until you’ve got more practice.” I got Lucius to prepare the violin again and get in position to play the first note. I tried to correct the position of his fingers as much as I could while he played, and then asked him to play scales to fixate his learning. He eventually managed to get his fingers in the right place, but the sound he made with the bow was still horrendous. When he finally played the song again, after all the exercises, the notes were mostly there, but it still sounded like someone had created a musical version of nails on the blackboard.

“Do you think I can play this now?” Lucius asked, still with his sad puppy face.

“What do you think? Do you like how it sounds?” I asked, trusting his self-judgement.

“Can you play it for me once so I can have an idea of how it’s supposed to sound?” Lucius offered me the violin again, and this time I took it.

“Fine, but I’ve been playing for five years now; you shouldn’t compare our sounds.” Because the violin is slightly smaller than the viola, I played a couple of scales to get my fingers used to the tiny fingerboard they would have to work on. It was also a good way to remember that the viola and violin have their strings in a different order (G, D, A, E for the violin, against C, G, D, A for the viola). Once I started playing the song, however, I realised how much I missed playing my viola. I no longer wanted to let go of the violin, of the feeling of the strings against my left hand, and of the light weight of the bow in my right hand.

“You look really happy.” Lucius noted. “Are you sure you don’t want to play for everyone?”

“I’m not good with public performances.” I confessed. “I have stage fright.”

“Then play just for me,” Lucius asked. “You play very nicely. Please play a bit more to get me motivated to get better. I promise I won’t ask you to do any more than that.”

I figured that since I was already playing for Lucius, my stage fright could not get any worse. “Ok, but please remember I don’t usually play the violin, so this is not ideal for me.” I played a couple of moderately easy songs I remembered from memory, and thankfully Lucius seemed entertained. He did not seem to mind that I got a couple of notes slightly sharp, or that my bowing was a bit off. In fact, he clapped enthusiastically after every song.

“You’re really cool! I wish I had started learning earlier…”

“It’s never too late to…” I was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Lucius said. To my surprise, Helena and Ariadne burst in, though they seemed just as surprised to find me there.

“So it was you who was playing that stuff?” Helena asked. “We came to the kitchen to get some drinks, which by the way there weren’t any, and we heard the violin. I didn’t think it would be you.”

“I play viola,” I said, like I needed to defend myself from a particularly ugly personal accusation. Despite Helena’s neutral words, her tone made it sound like she was scolding me for daring to play music.

“But why are you playing here?”

“Because I asked him to help me.” Lucius stepped up in my ‘defence’. “I wanted to play a song for my sister today, but I’m a complete failure at it, so I asked Oscar to help out.”

“You’re going to play for the whole party?” Helena asked me, rather mockingly.

“No, I don’t like public performances.”

“Not even if you’re not alone?” Helena asked again, surprising everyone in the room. Even Ariadne seemed to not have any clues what her girlfriend was getting at.

“What do you mean?” I asked, though part of me was actually afraid of the answer.

“I heard you play some stuff I recognise, so how about we put on a little duet show for Luce and her guests? I sing, you play. If you mess it up, nobody will notice because they always pay more attention to the singer anyway.” Helena grinned. Lucius and Ariadne liked the idea, but I was not entirely sure about it. “Let’s try it now. Play Carmen’s Habanera again and we’ll see if it works.”

“Ok.” I finally agreed. Although I was still not convinced it would be a good idea, Helena was one of those people that would never take kindly to a refusal, so I decided to play safe.

Our trial with Carmen’s Habanera went surprisingly well. Helena was a good singer, and she was almost patient with my mistakes. I got off with only a dirty glare for messing up at the end. We found a couple more operatic arias that I knew from memory, and before I knew it, Helena had dragged me downstairs to perform for the whole party.

“Wow, a music show for my birthday!” Luce hugged Helena and me when Lucius told her what we were planning. “That’s really cool! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Helena answered. “The violin is not Oscar’s main instrument, but it’s good enough for what we have in mind.” I felt my face heat up. Helena just had to find a way of criticising me, even after she had been so nice at our solo rehearsal. “And can I get some beer afterwards? I haven’t seen any drinks at all in this party.”

“Oh, we’re not doing drinks,” Luce answered, smiling sweetly. “I know there are people here who would rather stay away from alcohol, so in order to make this party safe for everyone I’m not having alcoholic drinks served. We have some alcohol-free beer in the fridge if you want, though.” Just as Luce spoke, I caught sight of Hannah on the other side of the room, and noticed she had a grateful smile on.

“Ok, fine, I’ll take it,” Helena gruntingly accepted the offer. “But now gather around if you want to hear some opera.” She waited until a reasonable number of people had entered the room. “For those who don’t know, my mother is a professional opera singer, so naturally I grew up listening to her favourite arias, and then learned to sing some myself. You better like it, ‘cause I don’t do refunds.”

Helena did not give me an opportunity to speak, for which was I actually grateful. Now that I was standing in front of so many people, my stage-fright skyrocketed. I tried to remember that people would most likely pay attention to Helena instead of me, that it was fine to make mistakes because I was not playing on my viola, and that my friends would not think less of me if I messed up really badly. Even Helena had been (for her own standards, anyway) kind to me. It could not be too bad. I could do it.

And, after a tense opening number, I realised I really could do it. I started having fun, relaxing, and feeling the music. It was surprisingly great to pair up with Helena for our short, improvised show. It reminded me of my past aspirations to become a musician, and the old dream of playing in an orchestra (which I never pursued, even at school level, because of my stage-fright). It made me realise music had played a bigger part in my life than I cared to admit until now, and that I was not ready to give it up just yet.

After all, I had stopped playing viola because my father told me to. He had always controlled how much music I was allowed to play and enjoy, from stopping me going to concerts once I expressed a wish to become an orchestra musician, to cutting my lessons once he forced me to give it up at school. But I was not living in his shadow anymore. After three weeks living at the Viñas’, his power over me had decreased considerably.

There, at Luce’s party, standing next to Helena and looking at a crowd of people enjoying my music, I felt I could challenge my father and finally break free. I felt truly strong for the first time in maybe years.

So, by the time we left the party, I had already crafted a plan to rescue my viola from my old home. I hoped to not cross paths with my parents, but if it came to that, I thought I was prepared to stand up to them.