Akimbo ✓

15 : Wanted

"Why are you being so defensive? Are you a lesbo?" Isadora snapped.

Seraphina opened her mouth, but her mother broke in, with a "Stop getting into things that aren't your business, Seraphina."

It silenced Seraphina, but Ignatius noticed the way her eyes were burning with rage. She did not do anything, of course; at the end of the day, both of them were voiceless puppets to their mothers.

"Your wish is my command, ma'am," Isadora told her guest, gleefully, as she took out her phone and put it to her ear.

"What are you doing?" her mother asked.

Isadora waved her hand dismissively. "It's just Lark, don't worry - Lark, it's me," her voice changed as she spoke to Lark on the other end of the phone; her words were cold and sharp, almost cruel. It made Ignatius flinch. "I need you to send me the video. .... What do you mean which video, you moron? The one where the Hawthorne fag kissed his brother."

Ignatius felt something clench around his heart, and wind its way up his throat. He felt suffocated and nauseated. He did not want to see it. Not again.

He had seen that video, alongside the rest of the country, six months ago when it spread through the internet like wildfire. In a country where homosexuality was not only a taboo but also a criminal offense, it erupted mass outrage, with people demanding Thrill, as well as Drayden, to be locked up in jail.

The Hawthornes handled it in a manner no one else could have. The fact that David Hawthorne had enormous power and money certainly helped, but Ignatius knew what mattered most was the untiring support Thrill received from his family.

Isadora got off the call, and a moment later, her phone pinged. Her face lit up in excitement as she held out the device for all to see, and pressed play.

Electronic music blared out of the speakers and the entire screen was lit up with iridescent lights. People, clearly in a drunken state, were dancing with their friends but away from any group stood Drayden Hawthorne, leaning against the bar, a look of disinterest clear on his features. He was surrounded by two girls and it was easy to tell they were hitting on him.

Can you please turn the video off? Ignatius wanted to say, but he couldn't. Helplessly, he watched as Thrill barged up to Drayden, pushed the girls aside and kissed him.

It was like everyone in the club was slapped into silence. A few seconds later, someone bumped into the person making the video and it got cut. But in those five seconds, Drayden caught Thrill by the collar and-

"He kissed him back!" Isadora cried, pure disgust lacing her words.

Ignatius felt bile rise up his throat. He was shaking, though he had no idea why, and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He suddenly remembered how, in a mad frenzy, he too had walked up to Thrill and kissed him; the thought filled him with raw dread. He clutched his stomach and, throwing his head downcast, he closed his eyes.

"If you ask me, I think Drayden is also like him," Isadora said.

Odette scoffed. "But he's David's golden son, so no one can touch him."

"He's too perfect for any of it to be real," Isadora continued. "I've never heard any gossip about him - he has no exes, no public fights, no scandal whatsoever. That's very suspicious. How can someone like him not have a girlfriend?"

"You're right." Mrs. Reishi nodded in grave understanding. "And if he wasn't a filth too, why would he kiss his brother back?"

"David likes to act all high and mighty," Odette said, "but he's disgusting. He has to be, to keep that filth in his house after all that happened."

"It's beyond disgusting," Isadora said. "They're brothers."

Mrs. Reishi clutched her mouth, as if she was about to puke. "I'm going to be sick-" The moment she said those words, Seraphina rose to her feet and, without a word, marched out of the room.

Except Odette Rookwood, who gave her a side eye, none of the other people seemed to care. Isadora continued, "The two of them must be fucking like all the time."

SHUT UP, Ignatius wanted to shout, at the top of his lungs. SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP-

"It's good that he assaulted Ignatius. Now we're going to make sure he goes to jail."

Ignatius felt sick. Like he was crawling in mud, desperately trying, but unable, to wash the dirt off his skin. He wanted to tear off his skin. Anything, to not feel so fucking disgusting anymore.

He wanted to get up and shout at his sister, at his guest and at his mother. SHUT UP. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET OTHER PEOPLE LIVE THEIR LIVES THE WAY THEY WANT. WHY DOES IT MATTER TO YOU, ANYWAY? THE HAWTHORNES AREN'T DISGUSTING, ALL OF YOU ARE.

But at the end of the day, Ignatius could only dream of strength, of courage, of freedom. He could never walk into a public place half naked, wink at strangers and order unhealthy burgers. At the end of the day, he was a voiceless puppet. So he just got to his feet and walked out of the room, without uttering a single word of protest.