Varo Loco

8. 2004

23/01/04

Have you heard about the parable of the prodigal son?

You know, the one where the guy with two sons has one of them leave him, go sightseeing, and eventually come back? That was exactly how I felt stepping into the estate eight years after promising myself to never return.

I guess I would be expected to be a bit discreet and low-key in some way and if I was still a teen, I would have probably done that. I was now older, a lot more shameless, and could not wait to see the look on Don Fernandez's face when I showed the fuck up.

I purposely arrived a week late when Tobias told me his father had sent him to China because there was no way in hell I was going to face the council without him.

It was how things worked. Either the both of us were present or the old guys could go fuck themselves.

I left my car at my mother's house when I arrived and decided to walk to the estate since Tobias already told me he was there. It was almost evening which was disappointing but I still went.

I may have put a little more effort into the way I dressed but you are in no position to judge me. I had not seen the man in a long while.

The absence of engines and loud noise brought a sense of nostalgia over me as I could almost hear the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. I may have not had the best memories in this place but a few of them were worth remembering.

Bittersweet memories of Tobias climbing up my window and dragging me to the beach so we could catch the sunset on time. Memories of me sitting on one of the large rocks balling my eyes out then instantly wiping the tears away when I saw him approaching.

He had found me at the beach a few times. He had also caught me crying there.

We never talked about it because I decided not to.

What would I say was my reason for crying? I could not even remember why my childhood was so sad anymore.

I did not even know why I was still so sad.

Probably because of the constant insults and mistreatment from people I was to call a family. Yeah, I had never tried so hard to seem nonchalant toward their remarks.

"Alvaro?" I nearly laughed when I heard a voice call.

The figure was concealed in the shadow of the high fences making it impossible to see them.

"Eight years later and you're still weird." He gave out a short laugh and stepped out of the shade and when I tell you my eyes widened-

"Who the fuck are you?" He still had that perfect smile to respond with but I chose to not believe it.

Yeah, this did not look like the sixteen-year-old that I left behind.

The fucker was now taller than me with cropped hair that I doubted he had bleached on his own terms. His arms even looked bigger as he had them on full display with the sleeveless shirt and almost white jeans.

He wasn't wearing any shoes.

"Fuck."

He looked good.

"Still cursing obsessively, hermano?" He said grinning. Don't tell me he went ahead to fix his already flawless teeth.

"Gato..." Yeah, I had the best hug in years but it was four seconds too short.

"Varo Loco," Tobias said warmly, clasping my shoulders with a firm hold, "I have missed you."

~~~