Yo.
So I came across a discovery. Most translators I have used only translate to European Spanish (or Spain Spanish), which is a problem because that means Ralph (who is Puerto Rican) is technically not speaking the correct language. It's the same thing with Fred, who I imagine is from Senegal (but this time with French).
I will try my best to fix it and find out everything I can, but if anyone in the comments speaks either language (especially Spanish) could help me I would be very thankful. I'll then put translations in the comments. (Also with Polish and Italian. I want to make sure nothing is wrong and as accurate as it can be!)
Thank you!
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Albert walked into his house with a sigh, his headphones and hoodie on his head, his loud music drowning out the world.
Well, not loud. It was just big and noisy. Gorillaz was like that.
Sometimes.
"Hey, kid", Ralph greeted, yelling from the kitchen. Somehow, Albert heard him and put his headphones down, placing his backpack near the coat rack, where it always went.
He walked into the kitchen and sat in a chair in front of the breakfast bar, right where he sat this morning. "Hey."
"How was school?" Ralph had his reading glasses on, probably reading a furniture catalog.
From what I can tell, Albert thought, leaning over a bit, that's exactly what he's doing. "School was school."
"That was vague", Ralph chuckled, closing his magazine and taking off his glasses. "You usually give me the whole 4-1-1 about your day and the horrible kids you see at school."
Albert squinted his eyes in objection. "I do not."
"Oh, sí, lo haces", Ralph says, leaning on his elbows. "Now tell me."
Albert sighed, looking around before catching Ralph's eyes again. "It's just been a weird day."
"How so?" Albert smiled when he realized Ralph was actually interested in what he was saying. "Come on, tell me!"
"There's this blonde kid", Albert says, giving in. "I'm not for sure, but he might have a crush on me. He keeps staring at me, but he doesn't think I notice."
"¡Dios mío!" Ralph laughed pumping his fists in the air with joy. "You have a crush!"
"No, no, no! Non ho una cotta per lui." Albert was quick to shut the idea down, seeing his foster dad's confused face. "I don't even know the guy."
Ralph stared at his son for a second before shrugging his shoulders. "So?"
"I- Mr. R!"
"What? El amor a primera vista sucede. Just...I don't know, keep your options open."
Albert chuckled, looking down at his swinging feet. "I don't know."
Ralph hummed, seeming to be remembering something. "Oh, yeah! Could you teach me Italian?"
Albert looked up in surprise. "You want me to?"
"Well, I want to be able to connect with you guys", Ralph admitted, shrugging. "I already know some Polish, and I'm still trying to figure out French, but I haven't even learned a little bit of Italian. I want to."
Albert blinked, robotically nodding his head. "Sure. I-I can't say I know much, though-"
"Just teach me what you do", Ralph smiles, putting his fist out. "And I can teach you Español in return."
Albert smiled and bumped his fist with the older's tan hand, looking away to find Fred walking into the kitchen. "Hey, Mr. Stefflan."
Fred muttered a greeting before walking over to his husband and wrapping his arms around him, causing Ralph to laugh.
"Dia duro, mi amor?" Fred nodded into the shorter's shoulder, causing his husband to laugh. "What happened?"
"Karens", he sighs, sitting up. "A bunch of Karens, one racist, and about three different homophobes."
"I'm sorry that happened", Ralph apologizes, kissing his husband on the cheek. "But at least your home now, where the outside world doesn't matter because we're a bunch of introverts."
"Mr. R, you're an ambivert", Albert says, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl. Fred nods.
"And I'm pretty sure Elmer's an extrovert", Fred adds, smiling at Albert. Ralph rolls his eyes, going back to his catalog.
"Odiadores."
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Race muttered angrily in Italian as he unlocked the door to his apartment, having seen his dad was home. Probabilmente con qualche nuova ragazza che ha trovato.
As he opened the door, he heard it creek open, finding trash all over the floor. "What the hell?"
He walked further in, looking at the messy walls and floor, trash everywhere and clothes- which is not something his little gay brain would like to see ever again- discarded on the floor.
He looked up and saw his dad and some lady- Who I'm sure is a very nice lady- laying on the couch, a thick blanket on top of them.
Race sighed as he trudged to his room and opened the door, happy it was untouched. It was just like he left it this morning. Who has a party in the afternoon on a school day anyway?
He quickly changed into more comfortable clothes, ones he wasn't afraid to get dirty. He put slippers on his feet and walked out of the room, on his way to the kitchen to grab towels, trash bags, and his Swiffer wet jet.
But first, the nice lady on the couch.
Race walked over to the two unmoving bodies, having already grabbed her clothes. He shook her softly until she woke, trying to offer a kind smile. "Hi."
She hummed and sat up, looking around. "How'd I get here?"
"I'm assuming you went to a party", Race answered, handing her her clothes. "But you should probably go."
She nodded, taking her clothes and sniffling as she held her head painfully. "Thank you."
"Uh huh", Race nodded, standing up with her. "There's a bus station down the street."
She nodded and put her clothes on quickly, grabbing her shoes, and nearly running out the door.
Race sighed and looked around, turning on the lights. "Alright, Antonio", he started, pulling on gloves. "Time to get to work."
The first thing he did was clear the kitchen of its mess. There were cups in every corner of the room, unused pots and pans sitting on the stove, along with trash skating across the floor. He grabbed every Red Solo Cup and threw it away, making a mental note to buy more. He put the pots and pans in the sink, even though they weren't used, and swept the kitchen floor.
He looked back at the sink, seeing it piled high with plates and pots. He pursed his lips, thinking.
He can wash them.
"Next, the bathroom", he muttered, humming to himself. Grabbing a trash bag from under the sink. He sighed as he grabbed cleaning supplies, a mop, a broom, and his dignity and walked to the bathroom.
Opening the door, he was immediately hit with the smell of alcohol and sweat. He groaned, stepping back. "Oh mio, Dio. Perché?!"
He scrunched his nose and walked in, picking up the trashcan. He grabbed what was left of the paper towels, and got to work.
Cleaning gave Race time to think, think deeper than he usually does- which is pretty shallow. Do I really want to do this for the rest of my life? Or what's left of it?
No. The cold, hard answer was no. He didn't. He hated cleaning after his dad every few days, he hated even more doing it by himself. He hated living like this.
But he still did it, knowing the consequences if he didn't. He didn't want that to happen again. It raised too many questions.
So he continued, finishing when he got to the living room. He picked up the trash in there, turning on the lamp and sitting in his chair, the one he sat in to avoid whatever happened on the couch. Race sniffled as he looked around, satisfied with his work.
It ain't pretty, he thought, getting comfortable, but it's clean.
He looked over at his dad, who was starting to wake up. Stirring awake, he sat up slowly, looking around. "What- oh, hey."
"Go shower", Race says, glancing towards the bathroom. "You stink."
His father's brows furrowed in anger, finding himself more awake. "Know your place, you piece of shit."
Race scoffed as he watched his father stand up and walk to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Race looked at the coffee table, finding his laptop.
Should I do it? He had lied before. He didn't forget about his application, he hadn't even looked at it. But he was considering.
He had a chance to leave all this and never come back, even when he was on his own. He could escape, and that sounded like a pretty good deal.
With one last glance at the bathroom door, Race opened the laptop, wincing at the bright light.