Chapter 1
“— You need to stop picking fights, Caio,” Daniel said, leaving the police station with me beside him, like his embarrassment was bigger than mine.
“— That motherfucker messed with me. It’s not my fault his face was too weak,” I replied, without looking at my dad.
We got in the car.
“— Sit up front, Caio.”
I ignored him. Put my headphones on.
’Niggas in Paris’ by Jay-Z. Loud. Loud enough to bury his voice and the weight of this shitty city.
We got home. The damn white facade house with a rotten soul.
And there she was.
Valerie.
My dad’s wife.
My stepmother.
A woman who turns me on every time she shows up in that fake yoga outfit, but also makes me sick.
I don’t like old women. But she’s not old… she’s different. She’s wrong.
“— Honey,” she said, planting a peck on him. “How was work?”
“— It went well, dear. But then I had to rush to the police station to pay the damages…”
“— Damages? Why?”
“— Caio got into another fight. On the street.”
She turned to me with that Stepford Wife act.
“— Caio… why did you fight in the street?”
“— None of your business.”
“— Caio, I’m talking to you. I’m your mother.”
“— Mother my ass.”
“— CAIO!!!” — my dad shouted.
I looked at him. Serious. Cold. Face saying, “So what? Go to hell.”
I went up to my room. The only place in the house where I don’t feel suffocated.
Put my headphones back on.
Now it was Commitment Issues by Central Cee.
Volume to the max.
I entered my private gym — because this anger needs an outlet.
Grabbed the weights.
Arms. Chest. Abs.
Silent workout. Sweat. And hate burning under my skin.
