a/n: Strap in, folks, it's a long ass chapter.
Sora loathed sitting in the back of a Tesla that evening when his mind was scattered elsewhere. He blamed his thoughts on Ray, seeing as they all revolved around that little shit, but he couldn't pinpoint which part of Ray's life had him more worked up. Did it have to do with their recording session?
No, he thought, rubbing his thumb idly beneath the hem of his sleeve. This has to do with that guy who misgendered Ray.
How could Ray know a person like that? In fact, Ray seemed excited to see the guy. As much as he wanted to ask Ray about it, it wasn't his place. He felt inclined, however, to spit in Xavier's coffee mug if he ever got the chance.
"How are you feeling?" Parson's voice came from beside him, resting no more than an arm's length away in the back seat of that Tesla.
Sora straightened a touch, his hand flattening over the front of his black suit and button-up shirt. "Fine. I'm glad to be here with you," he said with a faint, charming smile that made the frustration in his gut churn to a boil of fury. How could he be sitting here playing doll when he could be recording with Ray or interrogating the rat bastard about Xavier.
Who the hell did Xavier think he was? Did he really transfer to USFC just for de Lucía?
"Oh, there's no need for a facade," Parson hummed, the glow from his phone screen reflecting off of Sora's window. Sora glanced at him, and Parson offered a short smile. "Just be yourself."
"Sounds like something a mom would say," Sora said, to which Parson praised with, "See? Infinitely better."
Sora let out a hollow laugh. "This must be a kink of yours I have yet to hear about. Rest assured—stowing away my sass for the night. I'm not here to cause trouble."
Parson reached a hand out, and pressed it firmly to Sora's arm. Sora shivered. Sly move, Sora thought, breath completely vanished, evaporated, vamos, I thought he was about to grab my thigh.
Sora met his eyes as Parson said, "Perhaps I want you to cause trouble," before turning back to his phone and leaving Sora's arm be.
The dinner was taking place at an elaborate ballroom event center where, surrounded by gilded sculptures and marble columns, Sora found himself thrust back into the life he used to have with his parents. The Ikedas were a family of affluent individuals who surrounded themselves with well-behaved children to put on display at events like this just to garner the attention of impressive white men saying, "You've done so well raising them."
It made him want to gag.
Instead, however, he was here for a different but similar purpose: to be put on display.
The first conversation he stood in on, Parson turned to Sora to introduce him as nothing more than, "my nephew."
The person seemed just as alarmed as Sora, but Sora was quicker to recover. He shook the man's hand and said, "I know, shocking that people adopt."
And that, it seemed, was precisely what Parson had hoped for when he paid Sora under the table for his services. The bright way Parson's eyes lit up at Sora's comment had Sora grinning, pleased that he had not only (likely) scored a tip, but had also managed to make one of the guests at the event laugh.
As they mingled and brushed elbows with usually-stuffy business men, Sora kept to Parson's side through the first hour of their night. The guy had, after all, paid quite a hefty sum to get Sora there, and so Sora would oblige his presence. However, after the cocktails and the appetizers, they drifted from the cusp of the bar to find their seats, at which point Parson plucked a flute of champaign from an oncoming silver tray and held it out in front of Sora.
Sora blinked at it before raising his hand to grasp the tall, glass neck of it. Parson grinned at him and said, "You're doing awfully well at this, nephew. Dare I say you've done this before?"
"Depends on what you mean by that," Sora said. "If by... accompanying gentlemen beyond private doors, you'd be flattered to know you're my first."
Sora took a sip of champaign as he flattened a hand over the front of his tux. Parson grinned, his eyes trailing over the attendants as the time called for everyone to take their seats. Considering the confidence in Parson's step, Sora assumed the man knew precisely where to go.
Sure enough, their names were posted at pristinely-set tables like they were at a goddamn wedding. This assigned seating tactic felt elementary to Sora, and Parson seemed to have a similar idea.
The man took their name tags and, as discretely as possible, placed them at the table behind them. Sora took the two discarded name tags and put them on the table that was intended for them. Parson gave him a hidden thumbs-up as someone not too far away started in their direction, paused at the sight of Parson, and immediately turned to leave.
"Oh, the man of the hour," Parson declared, pointing to the getaway. He put a hand on Sora's shoulder and said, "You take a seat—I'll be right back."
Sora pulled his chair back as he watched Parson half-jog after the disheveled-looking guy who looked more like a professor who had just rolled out of bed that morning after grading papers until the wee hours of the morning.
The man wove between tables and chairs as Parson chased him down. The guy cursed when he looked over his shoulder and found Parson right behind me. "Nope—No thank you, leave me alone, Hill," he said, using someone's walker to block Parson's path.
"Matias, you delightful bastard, I knew you'd come," Parson teased, gliding past the walker and swinging it back around and into its rightful place beside the owner. He jogged up beside the man—Matias, as it were—and said, "I have quite the surprise for you—"
Matias paused in his escape to turn back to Parson, who skidded to a halt, his smug, grinning face mere inches above Matias's finger, poised directly at his nose. Matias shook his hand, waved dismissively at Parson, and walked off once more, muttering, "I have no intention of indulging you and your surprises. I loathe surprises."
"Yes, well, I loathe that you loathe surprises because I, in fact, love them," Parson preened as he caught up, hooked his arm around Matias's, and spun him back around.
Matias shed his arm with a scoff and flung a hand up to stop Parson from ruffling his hair.
"Is that—? Are you graying? You're turning into a silver fox now, aren't you?" Parson said.
Matias glowered at him. He tossed the tasseled ends of his scarf aside with the open flaps of his tweed blazer, hands on his hips and said, "I take it you plan on leaving the event anyway to follow me. Is that it?"
Parson preened. "You know me so well," he said, wistful and flattered.
"Right, well, and I can't very well kill you to prevent either of your two scenarios from happening, can I?"
"Depends on the three scenarios that came to mind," he said, hands clasped behind his back. He rose an eyebrow at Matias, prompting and eager, and Matias's narrowed eyes only narrowed further.
He pursed his lips and looked away, giving Parson a perfect view of the gray hairs growing in behind his ears like the tufts of fluffy hair protruding from a cat's ears. Before Parson could pluck one out, just for safe-keeping, Matias turned back, decision made.
"One," Matias started, and Parson was all ears because Matias was giving him that look that said he would uppercut Parson right then and there if he could, "I stay and you explain this 'surprise' to me, in which case you're a thorn in my side for the rest of the night until I ditch you at the valet."
"And two?" Parson hummed.
"Two, is that you'd wind up following me out of the venue and to the steakhouse I have reservations for three at in the case that you wound up being here so that I could A) avoid you and B) eat and drink a long island without social scrutiny, which I prefer."
"Ah, a long island. Very sorority-girl of you. I love when you embrace your youth," Parson hummed. Before Matias could gray any further, Parson stashed a second and third champaign glass that night, one of which was glared at by Matias as Parson presented it to him and said, "It's not a long island, but anything will do."
Matias took it with a vengeance and downed it like a shot as Parson added, "And don't you mean reservations for two?"
"Not at all," Matias said. He stalked back in the direction of his table—which was now their table, considering the rearrangement of name tags—and all but tossed the glass at one of the attending waiters. The waiter caught it in a panic, eyes wide as Parson hurried past and apologized on behalf of Matias.
As he followed, he called after Matias, saying, "And what was that third option?"
"Also involves my reservations," Matias said, and muttered off to the side, "Both at the stakehouse and for indulging you." Luckily—or rather, unluckily—Parson picked up on it and laughed.
During this exchange, Sora sat unaware of the chaos that was bound to ensue. He resisted the urge to check his phone, but ultimately broke that promise in order to text Charlie and ensure that he was still alive and did so by including a password they had agreed upon so that Charlie would know it was actually him.
In the midst of sending the message, someone approached beside him and set a velvet clutch down in the broad space between Sora's champaign and her napkin.
Sora tucked his glass closer to his plate as he said, "Oh, sorry—I'll get this out of your way—"
"It's no problem—" she said at the same moment, and they both paused, their recognition peaking in a clash of cymbals and orchestral clamor that signaled the end of the pre-dinner charades.
Sora never experienced shock quite like this.
"Robin," Sora whispered.
"I—" Robin started, and Sora's heart pounded agonizingly hard in his chest. It felt like a hammer was about to crack his ribcage and leave air whistling out of his lungs.
Robin's signature look was still present that day in the form of a tuxedo not unlike Sora's, only with a flare of color in her cherry red lipstick and cherry red blouse that bloomed with ruffles up to her throat. Her cuffs were accented with it, too, as were her perfectly manicured nails.
She always did wear gold jewelry, and that night was no different. It was accompanied by glittering gold eyeshadow that shined against her dark skin and the golden barrettes in her black curls.
"You look amazing. Wow," Sora said, surprised he even found his voice. It cracked, though, and he felt it all the way down to the part of him that wanted to die in that very same second.
As he cleared his voice, Robin smiled and said, "Thank you. And you look—great as well. Not gonna lie, I saw the suit and the hair and expected you to be some snobby executive. Like, frat boy, for sure."
Sora pressed his closed fist to his mouth, trying to gather his bearings as Robin took her seat beside him. They both cleared their throats, and Sora realized then that this was just as awkward for her as it was for him.
"You never told us you were leaving," she said, pointedly, busy popping open her clutch.
"I... never intended to," Sora said.
"Erin was heartbroken."
"Yeah, I know."
Robin freshened up her lipstick as she said, "And now you're here. Of all places. Why is that?"
"I could ask the same," he said. Robin snapped her hand mirror shut and Sora resisted the urge to flinch. Damn, he thought, I always turn stupid when she's around. I can't lie to her!
And perhaps she was the main reason Sora couldn't face them that night he left Erin and Robin's place for good.
"You know what I do. You know why I'm here," she said, at which point Sora noticed that Parson was on his way back, hot on the heels of that man he chased down earlier.
"Why isn't Erin with you?" he asked, turning to Robin again.
Robin studied him for a moment. A long, dreadful moment. Sora swallowed hard and said, Shit, is it really that bad now? "I would have brought her," Robin said, and Sora couldn't emphasize his sigh of relief more, "but I'm accompanying my boss tonight."
Sora rose an eyebrow. As far as he was concerned, Robin was the head of her company. The business began as a startup her junior year of college—no more than twenty people, if that—at which point she was hired on as an intern, and then full-time post-grad with the promise of several promotions within the first year. One thing led to another and Robin was pulling the strings.
So hearing that she even had someone higher-up than her was surprising. She never talked about any overbearing, narcissistic overseer. Didn't people complain about bosses? That was what people did, didn't they?
"Your boss?" Sora repeated.
Robin gestured then to the man Parson had been shepherding around.
The man yanked out the seat beside Robin and sat with an annoyed huff, and Sora took one look at his disheveled appearance and decided that yes, he did, in fact, have the aesthetic of a crotchety professor.
Robin didn't seem at all fazed. In fact, she simply slid her glass of alcohol over and said, "Malibu and coke," and the man took that like a shot as well.
Parson claimed his seat beside Sora with a triumphant smile. He placed a hand behind Sora's chair, and as Robin's eye gravitated towards it, Parson pointed to Robin's boss, and Sora's anxiety spiked.
"That man right there?" Parson said, and the man glared at them both. "Is Matias de Lucía."
As if Sora's brain hadn't already imploded, it now exploded in a colorful assortment of curses. de Lucía!? he thought, his mind racing back to Ray de Lucía, the only de Lucía he knew and the only one he ever imagined existing. Ray never spoke of his parents, let alone their professions.
But there Sora could see it—an exact (albeit older) rendition of Ray's facial structure slapped and stretched onto the face of this decrepit professor who groaned in contempt.
"Oh, don't parade me, Hill," Matias groaned. He passed a hand over his face and dragged it down to his chin. "Who's this kid anyway, huh?"
"Oh, of course, this—" Parson started, but Sora's brain had already caught up to him at that point, and Robin being there had plunged him into overdrive.
Parson had been going around introducing him as a nephew—never by name, since they never agreed to that, and so Sora was left with a mostly blank, crystal-clear slate that Robin could see right through. She'd call Parson out on the nephew lie, and something told Sora that Parson would catch on in an instant if he just told Matias—
"Sora," Sora said at the exact moment Parson gestured to him and said, "Sora Ikeda."
Sora's heart plummeted from his chest.
Matias straightened, just a fraction, to look at Robin. Robin was staring at Parson with her brow knit, looking thoroughly frazzled by the strings of fate that brought Sora to Parson's side that night. Sora, likewise, looked at Parson with the unfathomable urge to scream, "HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?"
Parson was still sporting that plastic smile of his that looked oh-so fake but was oh-so genuine. Seeing it informed Sora that Parson had planned this. He knew precisely why Sora couldn't scream it, and it was because his actual relative was sitting directly beside him trying to put the puzzle pieces together.
"Ikeda?" Matias repeated. He rose an eyebrow at Sora then and, with a slight huff of distaste, said, "Sorry to disappoint, but this is an incredibly anticlimactic surprise. I admit, you had me for a second there, but as it turns out—I really don't care about this."
Parson smiled. "Oh really? I assumed 'Ikeda' was familiar to you, considering Robin's a Ikeda—"
"Half Ikeda," Robin corrected.
"—And your son is flatmates with Sora."
If it were possible to hear a pen drop amidst an entire ballroom of grown adults, Sora would have heard it. He would have told the offending pen-dropper to shut up because he couldn't process this without complete and absolute silence.
How in the world would Parson know this? Sora thought, paling second-by-second. He knew there was always a risk of stalkers at Bandaids, but he never thought they'd go this far or risk his entire reputation in front of his sister's wife.
Sora turned to Parson and, voice hoarse and quiet, whispered, "How do you—?"
"Simple. I personally filed your leasing papers," Parson said, tapping a finger to his cheek. He leant his elbow against the table with a smile as the pieces of the puzzle clicked in Sora's head.
Robin turned to Matias and said, "I didn't know you had a son."
Matias was staring, unblinkingly, at Parson. "I don't have a son."
Parson hissed with a fake grimace. "You really have been missing out," Parson hummed, shaking his head. "Daddy's little girl has grown into a handsome young boy."
Matias shoved to his feet faster than Sora could blink. His chair nearly toppled behind him, but Robin caught it before it could clatter. Robin yanked her hand back as Matias crossed behind her, behind Sora, and to where Parson was taking his dear sweet time getting to his feet.
"What the fuck is this," Matias hissed.
Parson splayed his hands out and said, "A surprise! See? You're surprised, aren't you?"
The only reason I'm here is because of this damn lease situation, Sora thought, gripping the edge of the table like he was about to bolt. The only reason I'm here is because of Parson-fucking-Hill—
It had been such a tolerable night until that moment Matias put a finger up in front of Parson's face and said, "There are two scenarios that can come of this."
"Go on," Parson prompted.
"One, I do nothing. Two, I make a scene."
"Oh, I can only imagine which one you'll pick—" Parson sang just before Matias geared back and bashed his forehead into Parson's nose.
Chairs skidded. Glasses clanked on their tables, plates and silverware shaking as Robin lunged to her feet to stop her boss from starting a good old fashioned tavern brawl. Matias, however, had Parson by the lapels and was now flinging him across their table with a force and strength akin to an MMA wrestler.
As Parson scrambled across the table like a fish out of water, Sora really wished he had something to smoke. Instead, he propped his elbow up over the back of his chair, crossed his legs, and watched Matias grapple for Parson's ankles to drag his limp body back across the table.
There, he braced Parson with a hand balled up against his tuxedo coat, wound his fist back, and—
_____
"How do you know Mr. Hill?" Robin asked that evening at the police station, nursing the stuffy end of a bloody nose after Matias had inadvertently elbowed her in the face on a backswing.
She touched a tissue gingerly beneath her nose as Sora sighed, "You don't want to know," because it was as close to the truth as he could get. "But it sounds like he's the reason my lease situation is fucked. Glad I know that now."
"What do you mean?"
"I got a single bedroom apartment," Sora explained.
"Ah, yes, Erin was telling me as much," she said.
"Yeah, except she doesn't know that I was scammed into signing a lease with another person—which is... Matias's son. I guess." He grimaced, shaking his head in distaste.
Robin tossed her tissue into the bin. "I didn't even know he had a son."
"I didn't know his son had a father figure of any kind," Sora confessed. The two of them looked at one another. "Perhaps he...?"
Robin sighed, dejected. "I wouldn't put it past him."
Sora crossed his arms and studied her for a moment before confessing, "To be honest, I didn't know there was someone you answered to."
"That's because I don't. Answer to him, I mean," Robin said, tipping her head to the side. "I run the company and Matias... travels the world."
At that moment, the door across the station opened and Parson Hill stepped out with a bruised, swollen nose and a black eye. His tux was ruffled, but not torn, and the first few buttons of his shirt beneath it were now undone. Sora narrowed his eyes at Parson, unable to refrain from the loathing he felt for even trusting the man.
Parson approached them slowly, accompanied by an officer who veered off to the front desk.
"Thank you for coming. I've been looking forward to this for quite some time," Parson said.
Sora rolled his eyes. "Oh, before or after I signed my lease?"
"Same time, actually. It's very rare that you get a Ikeda and a de Lucía to tour the same apartment," Parson said, and before Sora could add to the number of bruises on the man's face, Robin put a hand out in front of him. "Did you expect anything less from me, Robin?"
"Of course not. You always pull shit like this," Robin said. "Where did you even find out that Matias had a son?"
Parson gestured to Sora, and Sora realized then that it was because of their interest in the apartment that Parson ever thought to act on this ridiculous heist. The reason being? He knew Parson ever since his first day in Bandaids. He never knew a thing about Parson outside of the club, but evidently, Parson knew him.
Parson Hill knew everything about him.
"I take it you have a means of getting home that you prefer?" Parson said to Sora.
"Yeah, and it doesn't involve getting in a car with you," Sora said.
"Is that any way to thank me for your tux and that lovely dinner?"
"We didn't have dinner," Sora reminded him, since Matias and Parson completely shattered the table they would have been eating on.
Parson waved a dismissive hand. And, considering Parson paid him half of the total share before the event, Sora decided that he could risk never receiving the other half. He'd rather risk it. No amount of money could persuade him to get in the back of a car with Parson again.
He passed Robin a card on his way out. She lifted it up, staring after him, dumbfounded. "And what the hell am I supposed to do with your business card?"
"Give it to Matias for me, will you!" he chimed, backing through the front door of the station. He waved to Robin and made a 'call me' gesture before spinning back around and disappearing into the night.
Robin and Sora looked to the card. In red ink, Parson had drawn a heart next to the phone number on the back.
"Unbelievable," Robin sighed, slapping the card down. "I don't blame him, though. He's only able to pin Matias down once a year, if that."
"More like 'peg'," Sora snorted, and Robin let out a startled laugh.
The two of them were giggling over it like a bunch of schoolyard kids when Matias de Lucía himself was escorted out into the foyer. Robin hopped to attention, hurrying to the front desk to finalize everything as Matias approached, looking more or less rough for wear but altogether still alive.
Sora couldn't stop staring at Matias's goddamn face. Holy shit, the guy looked like a carbon copy of Ray—if Ray was a silver fox with facial hair, anyway. Matias had his dull, plaid scarf looped around the back of his neck, letting the tassels hang free all the way down to the low hem of his trench coat.
Matias stuffed his bruised hands in his pockets. Sora brought his eyes back up and realized that Matias was staring directly at him.
The officers bid them farewell, and Robin led the way back to Sora. "Do you need a ride?" she asked. "I'm driving."
"No, I'm driving," Matias said.
Robin rolled her eyes. "Matias goes forty in school zones."
Matias slapped her in the arm and, shielding his mouth from the officers nearby, said, "Careful. We're at the station."
"Again," Robin said, and Sora couldn't help but smile.
"Thanks for the offer," Sora said, "but I actually need to grab something to eat now."
"Then let's get something to eat," Robin suggested, leading the way out of the station. Matias squinted at her, suspicious, but followed suit regardless. It took several moments for Sora to realize that he was, in fact, getting dinner with his sister's wife and his roommate's father.
Weird, he thought as he ducked into the back of Robin's vehicle. As everyone got settled in for the ride, Sora offered up a suggestion. "We... could ask Ray if he wanted to join us?"
"Ray?" Robin repeated when Matias said nothing, and Sora realized that Matias had no clue who he was talking about.
"My... roommate."
"No," Matias said, short and clipped. Robin put the car into drive and offered Sora a shrug through the rearview mirror.
Sora took to studying Matias's profile from where he sat behind the driver's seat. Matias had his elbow resting on the center console, his phone in hand, the glow of which was dimmed among the passing street lamps. The car became deadly quiet and almost ceased to exist at all. Time slowed until it came to a standstill at every red light along the way to their destination, of which Sora had no clue. Matias went on playing sudoku until Robin began looking for parking spots, at which point he played the part of a backseat driver, criticizing Robin's parallel parking.
Robin put a hand against the back of Matias's headrest and looked over her shoulder as she backed up and Matias said, "You do realize you're an inch away from scuffing my car?"
"This isn't even your car," Robin sang under her breath.
"Considering you paid for it with money you earned at your current position—"
"Who's name is on the check? Mine. Who's name is on the car insurance? Yours truly."
"Who's name is on your paycheck?"
"Mine," Robin said, throwing the car into park and returning Matias's pointed glare before twisting back around to look at Sora. She smiled sweetly, her golden earrings jingling. "You ready?"
"God, why do you say that like we're going to the zoo?" Sora groaned. He pushed out of the backseat and hurried to the sidewalk as Robin called after him, "Did not!" to which Matias replied, "It really did come across like that."
Robin groaned and exited the car. Sora paused just past the curb his eyes going up to the sign above the tinted windows of what appeared to be a restaurant. He could see the reddish glow of table lamps through the window, however, and through the frosted glass on the door.
"A steakhouse?" Sora commented as Matias walked past and pushed directly inside. Robin slowed beside Sora, who turned to raise an eyebrow at her.
She shrugged. "Matias prefers steakhouse vegan mac and cheese and martinis."
"Is there such a thing? At a steakhouse?" Sora said, baffled, and Robin merely shrugged.
They wandered in after Matias, who looked sorely out of place in his disheveled appearance. Robin and Sora, on the other hand, looked fabulously in line with the recommended dress code. Matias gave his name to the woman at the hostess bar, and she walked them past the front of the house, beyond the glossy, mahogany bar, and to a room filled with white table cloths, candle-lit centerpieces, and red velvet chairs and booths.
At their booth, they were welcomed by a severely well-paid waiter and a cart of their finest delicacies that evening including, but not limited to, slabs of steak as thick as Sora's forearm, bacon as thick as Sora's wrist, lobsters (still alive) the size of his head, and oysters, fresh out of the tank.
After the waiter left to put in their bar tab, Matias put down his phone. Robin had ordered his drink for him. "I'm intrigued by the bacon."
"Ah," Robin hummed. Sora looked to her for an explanation. "It's one thing to endorse the commercial meat industry, but they must have a more humane seller for their pork."
"No point swearing off of certain foods if indulging them once in a while protects their rights as citizens of the planet," Matias said, reclining back against the booth's upholstery. When he met Sora's eyes, he poised a finger up at the sky, as if about to praise the Holy Lord, but instead said, "Bees. I love honey."
"Interesting," Sora hummed. He looked across the restaurant, which was wide and open, but thoroughly packed. There wasn't a single table open among all of the white table cloths and booths. At the door, Matias had given a reservation for three under his name. "Why did you have a reservation for three?"
"Same reason I gave Robin my bail money last night," Matias said, gesturing to Robin, who threw her napkin down with a huff and cried, "That was what the bonus was for? Christ, Matias..."
"And... what reason is that, exactly?" he prompted, resting both forearms on the table, his eyes on Ray's father.
"One of three things was bound to happen tonight, and I was certain of one factor, which was that Hill would be there. From that I deduced that I could either A) see him before interacting and effectively avoid confrontation, in which case he would likely know I was already there and proceed to follow me out of the venue and follow me here. Alternatively, B) I could stay and hear what he'd have to say—which had to do with you and... um..."
"Your... son?" Sora offered, both eyebrows on the ceiling.
Matias awkwardly cleared his throat. "Or C) otherwise known as the most likely scenario, that we would be kicked from the event, arrested, and wound up with the three of us here. Albeit, excluding you. I assumed Hill would be joining us."
Sora stared at him for a moment as Matias took a glass of water, his voice having momentarily been lost after that break to do with his son. Sora glanced at Robin, who gestured as if to say that this was a regular occurrence.
"You forgot about a fourth option," Sora said.
Matias paused, glass to his lips. It seemed no one had ever said that to him. He lowered his water glass down just as the waiter came by with their beverages. As Robin thanked the waiter, Matias said to Sora, "And what would the fourth option be, assuming you're right."
"To not go to the event at all," he said.
His answer drew a collective silence across the table. He took a sip of his soda as he watched Robin blink slowly at him, and then again at Matias, who looked like he was on the verge of a hernia.
Instead of answering, Matias went for his martini, at which point Robin said, "Yeah, why did we go to the event if you knew this would happen?!"
____
After their dinner that cost approximately as much as Sora's rent, they left the restaurant and returned to the car where, on the driver's side, Robin offered to drive Sora back to his place.
It simply reminded him of one crucial fact: that Erin thought he and Ray were dating and not, in fact, roommates. "Wait, Robin," Sora said, holding a hand to her arm. Robin paused, her door half-open.
They both glanced inside where Matias was back to playing sudoku. Robin shut the door.
"Please pretend like... you don't know anything about Ray and I," Sora said, shaking his head. "It's really complicated right now and Erin doesn't actually know what's going on."
Robin stepped closer to whisper, "Yeah, I thought you two were dating. I didn't realize you two were roommates as well—"
"We aren't—" Sora started, only to huff. He put a hand to his forehead and cursed his inability to lie around her. Realizing what Robin had thought all that night had him bristling with distaste. "Ray and I aren't dating. Erin just thinks we are. She doesn't know that we're living together."
"What's with all the secrecy?" Robin said, and Sora could only roll his eyes because he didn't have a good enough answer—at least not anymore, not after Parson Hill blabbed about everything directly in front of her. "It will only cause more trouble in the long run."
Sora gruffly crossed his arms and said, "I'll... talk to Ray about it."
"Promise me that you'll actually do it," she ordered, and followed up with her pinkie held out to him. Sora swallowed at the sight of her many rings, chief among them being the diamond wedding ring he helped Erin pick out all those years ago.
Sora hooked his pinkie onto hers and said, "Promise," as the purr of traffic passed behind them.
After entering the vehicle, Robin punched in Sora's address and followed the route back to the front of Sora's apartment complex. From down the street, Sora could see a faint light on at the living room window. He glanced up at it as he stepped out of the car. He leant back in to thank them for the ride and, begrudgingly, agreed to text Robin more often (he wouldn't).
He shut the door and waved them off like a grandmother waving to her grandkids from the front porch of some country cottage. When they were out of sight and around the corner, only then did Sora enter the apartment and make his way up the steps.
Ray heard Sora's keys turning in the door before Sora ever stepped foot into the apartment. He had been thinking about Charlie's reminder, that Sora was escorting that night, and it was all that was on his mind as he sat and twiddled his thumbs in the living room. Try as he might, he couldn't focus on a damn thing other than the ticking clock, which drew closer and closer to midnight. How long did events like that last? He couldn't be certain.
But then, Sora was walking in, and Ray was already on his feet and at the foyer archway, saying, "Welcome home," as he watched Sora toe off his fancy leather shoes.
Sora still looked smart in his black tux and polished black vest over a simple, dark button up. It made his pale complexion, eyes, and hair pop. Sora tugged at the hems of his sleeves as he stepped into the hallway and paused to look at Ray.
Fuck, Sora thought, instantly reminded of who he just spent the evening with. After a split second, however, the harsher edges of Matias's frown-lines, furrowed brow, and facial hair faded from Ray's wide open expression, and the worry creasing between his brows.
Sora cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey," he said, and passed Ray to head to his room.
Ray didn't linger. If Sora wanted to talk about it, he would—Ray was certain of it. After all, they had a moment that night they slept out in the living room. Didn't that warrant some sort of trust between them? Ray mused over it as he went back to sitting at the kotatsu, lips pursed, and his fingers brushing against his chin.
Sora frowned at his suit coat after he shucked it off. He hung it in his closet where he hesitated to do anything at all. All he wanted to do was talk about how bizarre his night was, but there was no way to articulate it.
But it involved Ray, and Ray ought to know. He didn't know what Ray's relationship was with his father, but whatever the case, perhaps this information was useful.
Sora silently emerged from his room. He stood at the top of the stairs, hands tingling. Perhaps he was going into shock? He wasn't quite sure, but he felt it jittering up to his skull like both of his arms had fallen asleep.
"I..." he started, voice hoarse.
Ray turned to look back at him, one hand leant against the rug and the other still on his chin. Ray's eyes met his, and Sora managed to speak again.
"I had dinner with your father," Sora said.
Ray, to his credit, reacted immediately and in a way Sora didn't expect. He laughed and said, "Funny. I don't have a dad," and turned back around. He giggled a little, shaking his head, and Sora thought to himself, What the fuck is happening?
Sora stepped across the apartment, his socks making his footsteps all but silent against the wood. He rounded the kotatsu to see Ray's expression, and Ray didn't look much like... anything, really. Not sad, or mad, or even confused.
"You don't... have a dad?" Sora repeated.
Ray rolled his eyes and settled back on the textbook lying open on the table. "I mean, I guess I do, but I've never met him. His name is—"
"Matias de Lucía," Sora said, and Ray's eyes snapped up to his. They stared at each other for a long moment until Ray's jaw slowly dropped open and Sora said, "I had dinner with him. Tonight."
"Matías—You had—" Ray said before uttering a string of incomprehensible words that had Sora jolting in surprise. Ray shook his head, hands in his hair. He clutched his fingers into fists, his hair sticking in all directions as he cried, "My dad hired you to be an escort?!"
a/n: This chapter was too chaotic to split into two lol hope y'all enjoyed the update!!