The Castle
The hospitals are the most depressing place Leon could ever think of. Yeah, courtrooms and hospital floors, both choke you by the neck with that weird vitamin smell. Everyone within these walls wants to get out as soon as possible and everybody is pretty sure about that too. He tried his best not to become a regular in this place but there is one organ inside him that made it impossible despite all his efforts. There is one damn piece of meat working with constant electricity inside your skull, taking almost all the oxygen in your blood. You are basically its slave, begging it to regulate itself so your whole life won’t be wasted.
Some people are gifted when it comes to their brain. It works, it helps. Like really helps the person. Sometimes they are just normal. They look at the world and see it the way it is. They are gifted with that organ by their parents. And look, their parents are also aware enough to give the right amount of regulation to their children. They are conscious, they know what they are doing. They made them knowingly and their brains can plan, form proper imaginations and perceptions, towards themselves and towards their children.
In some cases though, some people have to be in this building. All white corridors, old leather chairs, people answering phones looking like they are about to kill themselves or you if you say something wrong and even the water tastes like mud. If you are honest enough, you can stay here at nights too.
Leon thought about hospitals a lot, because he is aware that the limited breaths he can take without confusion or that imposter feeling are because of therapy and medication. Time to time his condition makes him more anxious or depressed so he needs pills. His doctor knows him well and knows how anxious he is about his body, his surroundings and, to be honest, Leon thinks about everything at every given moment. He thinks so much that sometimes his thoughts paralyze him from acting on life. He can’t participate but he is very thoughtful about everything.
He hates how subtle the ideal is but it’s there. One of his doctors told him his condition could be related to developmental issues because he was born with a very low birth weight. He struggles to empathize with his mom, like he struggles with everyone else. He can understand how she stayed stuck in her model diet even while pregnant. To be fair though, she couldn’t have been the only reason.
All his life, every time he is alone, which is more often than it should be if you ask him, he thinks about the possibilities, every single one of them. What if I wasn’t afraid to talk to him, didn’t I take the joke, is that why they didn’t invite me to the next meeting. I hate fucking germs, I don’t want to drink from bar glasses nor do I want to kiss him, there are a shit ton of illnesses you can catch just from kissing, let alone the other things two bodies could do. Also the worst thing is that you can’t predict people, they can wake up as a completely different person with a different personality because something you didn’t know happened one day ago and if you are attracted to them, well yeah, your routine is going to change too. We really don’t want to risk that. But social life wants to mute your brain sometimes. You have to want someone so much that you stop thinking about their medical history or hygiene routine, or you have to understand what they want to say and weirdly enough they are saying completely different things while explaining themselves. He could choke the fuck out of the person, if there even is one, who made these rules but yeah.
While waiting he loves to guess who has what. In psychiatry it is an even more fun game to play because he basically has permission to ask what kind of insane are you? We are not talking about cancer, cells or infections. On this floor some of you fuckers think Lady Gaga is your mother and we know each other well enough that I had small talks with your actual mom every time we saw each other. And it’s not even judgment because in here, unlike outside and inside our own homes, we are the majority. The normal in here is this. We need help to keep the electricity in our brains at a livable pace.
He did his therapy like every previous one. His blood looks good, he needs more iron though. He told his therapist nothing changed almost like a flex, he managed to keep everything in its place. Yeah, most of the time hospitals feel like hell but it’s been 18 years of him visiting hospitals, it is part of his routine now. He changed therapists and psychologists from time to time but the faces in the corridors always look like each other.
After he got out of his session he sat in the coffee shop near the hospital. It is also part of the plan. He rewards himself with this coffee and maybe a piece of cake but he needs to be careful about his diet. He doesn’t smoke, drink or use drugs. Some parties here and there but he sticks with soda most of the time.
At least his family understood early on that things had to be handled differently so he got really good at masking it in public. He forced himself to make eye contact and he thinks four times before talking so he doesn’t sound blunt or rude. Despite all the effort though, he knows he is acting. It is a show, so it doesn’t really work when he is talking to himself.
The connection doesn’t feel real. People like the show from time to time but they would leave if they saw the real face. His brain, his past, his struggles and his unequal thoughts became the punchline of the joke somewhere along the way. He will be cool and different until he won’t. When a condition starts affecting your behavior people’s perception of you can change from different to annoying in seconds. And what happens then? Not a big deal, someone has to leave.
He considers himself lucky most of the time. He is the son of one of the country’s important models. That helps with his looks and his opportunities. He has two big sisters who take care of him sometimes more than his mom and dad. Dad who left. Maybe the psychologist corridors are talking through him right now but dads also have this tendency. They leave and it affects the stupid electricity in your stupid brain.
After a certain age his mom tried her best to keep him as far away from modeling as possible. In that job you have an expiration date. She is a stylist for celebrities now and owns a modeling agency. Her name is big, big enough that sometimes cars follow Leon’s car just to ask about his dating life. People know his face, not more than his sisters though. They were smart enough to use the opportunity and inherit the legacy of fame and beauty. Leon basically couldn’t. Attention most of the time made him overstimulated and the noise from paparazzi, the constant shouting of questions for an audience, was exhausting. And Leon’s worst nightmare is applause. Clapping hands. No idea why we still have this primitive tradition and express happiness with that annoying noise but whatever.
He prefers staying on the planning and protecting side of fame and family. He feels like he needs to be productive somehow to be worth something to his people. His family never told him that but, you know, he has to. The feeling of having no purpose always shows itself when nobody needs anything from him. He wants to feel needed, he wants to be good at something and he wants it to be something good. So he chose law. He isn’t even sure the achievement is fully his own. The money came from his mom and the motivation, the focus and finishing law school with an honors degree came from his condition. It helps his memory and intense focus and, honestly, not having friends or a boyfriend helped him pour his whole fixation into school.
**Emma and I are at home.**Waiting for you.**We want to get ready together.
He saw the three messages from his sister. His middle sister, Anne, is the warmest person in his home. He knows, factually, everyone in his family loves him so much and wants to protect him from everything. But because of his condition everyone acts like he is made of porcelain. They censor bad things when they happen. The last person to get updated on anything is always Leon. Sometimes they even speak to him in different voices. He knows they talked about this a million times and it comes from love but still, he is not an idiot. He is just the youngest and needs a little help with social cues.
He took a picture of his coffee and sent it to Anne.
**I’ll be on my way after this, need anything?
Anne replied immediately.
**How was therapy? Don’t rush yourself if you want to take your time, baby.**I’m sorry, I’m just excited for tonight.
Leon smiled at the phone. He took the last sip of his coffee, gathered his car and house keys, unplugged his charger and stood up.
**Therapy was therapy.**I’m on my way.**See you at home.
-----
Maria Vale was a brand. She had a strong, serious face. Her body, for her age and honestly for almost every age, looked unreal. Not a single wrinkle, not one. She took care of her skin with treatments and skincare was basically a religion in the Vale household. When his father left them the media became a mess. Everything happened in front of the whole world but Maria never took his last name. She never gave them a crying picture and everyone expected weight gain after the divorce but no, she wore suits so good people talked more about the clothes than the heartbreak. She was a master at controlling crises. She changed the last names of her children too. She did thousands of things and somehow people only talked about her haircut, her skin, how elegant she looked and how beautiful her family was.
“I’m asking this with full respect,” Anne started talking to Emma, “was looking like a lettuce intentional or are we trying to make a statement right now?” She looked at Emma’s layered light green dress.
Leon started laughing while his mom tied his tie. Anne continued, “I can wear red and be a tomato, Leon can rock the brown and be our meat so we can go out looking like a hamburger. 2019 Katy Perry wouldn’t stand a fucking chance around us.”
Maria fixed his suit and spoke while laughing. “Please be kind to your sister, Anne. Your sister does not look like a lettuce and the Vale family would never be a hamburger.” She pointed her finger at Leon, telling him to turn around and show his suit to his mom. “If anything, she is a cucumber and we are going to that gala as a very healthy salad.”
Leon wasn’t really sure why they were comparing Emma to vegetables so he just quietly said, “I think you look great.”
Emma hugged him tightly from behind. “Finally someone understands fashion.”
His mom looked at him with pride in her eyes. Of course she chose the suit. She knew every measurement of her children, every shape and every color that looked best on them. She chose black trousers, a black shirt and a dark red jacket with a matching vest. A customized brooch shaped like a sun and matching earrings. He looked great because his mom was never wrong about appearances.
“My handsome prince.”
----
They knew the rules. Their mom taught them from the first moment they saw a camera. Don’t drink too much, which is easy for Leon, though his sisters struggled with that one sometimes but they were masters at looking sober now. Don’t answer questions about family issues, especially your dad. Smile as much as you can. Make eye contact, though she understood Leon sometimes couldn’t handle that by the end of the night. Easy enough. He just needed to be pretty, exist, stay beside his sisters and mom and nod at everything they said. Also smile, don’t forget that one. Don’t forget to say thank you and please. Be kind. He doesn’t want to talk at all because he isn’t sure when to stop once he starts and that is not safe for their image or for themselves.
He is one of the industry’s popular singles. Wealthy, handsome and quiet. A ladies’ dream, of course, and people are deeply interested in him. No one knows details about his private life. No one knows he isn’t in the ideal spectrum of sexuality or that he is autistic but they don’t need to know that either. It doesn’t change anyone’s life. He feels like it is just part of the job. His surname is a job on nights like this. Staying a favorite among women is good for the brand, good for his mom’s connections.
Moreover, favoritism, connections and obsession are everything in this industry. People have to feel ugly so things can be sold to them. People have to obsess over beautiful faces so they care enough to follow them. Fantasize about them. Sex is a huge sell. Leon is not better than other people, he feels obsessive about a lot of things. He is not on the dirty side of the industry most of the time but there is one obsession he could never make himself an exception to.
He has an obsession with one beautiful face. It has been satisfying his need for romantic thoughts for a while now. Platonic glances are more than enough for him most of the time. Alexander Voss. His father, Daniel Voss, is a permanent designer in fashion shows. Every piece is worth millions and Leon’s mom loves wearing his designs. They were a huge team in the nineties. Now Alexander owns a popular jewelry company and inherited being the heartthrob from his father. If you ask Leon, thanks to social media, Alexander’s effect on people is even bigger.
He is tall, broad and always knows exactly what to say to everyone in every room. Unlike Leon, he is not good at playing safe. He has had a decent amount of scandals but somehow always finds a way to be accepted as perfect again and again. Leon feels jealous of his social skills most of the time. Leon spent years in therapy, took prescribed pills for his social problems, wore carefully planned looks chosen by his famous model mother and memorized speeches from the agency but he still never felt accepted and never believed he had the right to create drama. If he did even half the things Alexander did, he is sure his family would be destroyed.
The Voss family walked toward their table. Even the way they walked looked synchronized and powerful. They did not dress in matching colors or fabrics but somehow they still looked like a team. A strong one. In the few seconds Leon allowed himself to look at anyone from the family walking toward them, he stole glances at the oldest son. Alexander looked unreal, like always. He wore a monochrome black suit. His mom hated wearing one color head to toe in daily life but Leon was sure she would compliment him for it.
Alexander always dressed in one color and wore only one piece of his own work. Right now he had a ring on his index finger. Black and red diamonds. Bold, elegant and Leon had memorized every piece of his designs. This one was new. Leon wasn’t even sure Alexander knew he existed and honestly he wanted to keep it that way.
“Maria, you look absolutely perfect,” Daniel told Maria with a smile deep enough to show the wrinkles around his eyes. They are actually friends, Leon thought, though he was never sure what was real and what wasn’t in environments like this.
He thought about Alexander a lot in his free time but he knew he could never afford someone like him. He taught himself to make enough eye contact so people would not question him, taught himself how to make small talk and what to say during conversations but whenever Alexander was around he forgot every lesson he had forced himself to learn for the sake of looking normal and turned into a blushing mess staring intensely at the floor. He could hear his own heartbeat and breathing. He couldn’t contain himself around him. He couldn’t even imagine actually having him.
Because honestly, what could Leon even do with Alexander Voss. He imagined things he would never normally allow himself to imagine but sometimes in the middle of the night he could picture surrender. Stopping all the electricity he constantly tried to control inside his brain and just letting Alexander have every inch of him. Feeling his breath, his lips.
He had to be alone. He couldn’t stay around them anymore. He felt Emma’s hand on his leg, his sister trying to stop the shaking. And he knew there was a look in his sisters’ eyes he hated seeing. He quickly leaned closer and whispered, “I have to go,” into Emma’s ear before leaving. His sisters would cover for him for sure. He just needed to get out.
He quickly passed through beautiful dresses and expensive drinks, trying not to touch anything around him. Every noise and every light felt like it was stabbing him. It hurt his senses. He wasn’t even interacting with anyone right now but even overhearing the interactions around him hurt physically.
He saw a corner in the garden. Quiet and dark. Sitting there until he could control his breathing sounded like medicine. He couldn’t think about anything except closing his eyes for a minute.
He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall behind him. He tried not to think about possible bugs around him or his suit getting wrinkled. He couldn’t. He just had to breathe.
He took one breath and started counting in his mind. Until one hundred. Most of the time that was enough. Slowly, just count. Don’t think about where you are. Don’t think about who you are. Don’t think about who your mother is and never think about the man in front of you that you have fantasized about for a decade being in the same building. Just count to one hundred.
He felt calmer around the eighties. As his senses slowly settled back together he smelled amber perfume and heard the click of a lighter. Great. Now cigarette smoke too.
He decided not to open his eyes until the smell disappeared. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk and he definitely didn’t want to hear another story about someone admiring his mother. No. He needed to stay silent here and for once he was going to break one of his mother’s rules. He couldn’t be kind or smiling right now.
Then he felt a hand under his chin, lifting his head upward. He didn’t open his eyes. He wasn’t sure who was touching him or why.
“Open your eyes.”
He knew that voice. He knew that voice very well.
