Jin smirks. "Well, obviously he has tattoos, you fool. Half the time he looks like a walking warning label."
"No," Daisy says, leaning in, lowering her voice. "Aspecifictattoo. Right above his… " She gestures vaguely under the table.
I choke. Coffee goes down the wrong pipe. I cough, heat rushing to my face. I don’t know if I’m embarrassed or dying. Probably both.
"Like, literally right above it. And it says—"
"Enough!" My father’s voice cracks through the room. Daisy goes silent.
Jin lets out a low whistle. "I wanna be this guy."
Daisy snaps at him. "No, you don’t. You’d need balls to pull that off."
My father sets the newspaper down. "That boy is a walking embarrassment. And the fact that any of you laugh about it is pathetic."
Daisy finally looks up. "I mean, no offense, but you gotta admit, Gio’s hot. Like, annoyingly hot. If he were straight, I’d probably make a move. Anyone would. No offense, dad. It’s the truth"
The air shifts.
My father’s jaw tightens. "He’s… into guys?! That makes it worse. Good thing you’re… normal. Because if he ever turned that filthy charm on you, I’d bury him myself. He’s disgusting."
I bite the inside of my cheek. Hard. I say nothing. I don’t like Gio enough to defend him.
But I don’t dislike him enough to agree with the absolute bullshit coming out of my father’s mouth either.
Jin leans toward Daisy. "So… how do you feel about the fact that I have more chances than you?"
Daisy snorts and smacks his arm.
I hide my smirk in my mug. I check my watch and look at mom as she appears in the hallway, fully armored in elegance.
"We leaving?" I ask. She nods, grabbing her purse. Dad folds his paper. "Let’s go close some deals."
"Let’s go pretend we’re not all mildly unhinged," I mutter.
Even at my own breakfast table, he somehow hijacks the spotlight.
Fucking Gio.
…
These conferences only get worse. Same voices. Same suits. Same empty promises about "the future." I sit through the third presentation, fighting a yawn.
Canada can’t come soon enough. I glance at my phone under the table, scrolling back to Sophia’s messages. We texted earlier, nothing heavy.
She wants to meet after the conference. Go for a swim. Talk. It feels hopeful. Familiar. Like maybe something still waits for me that isn’t marble floors and fake smiles. I look around the room, bored out of my mind. And then I notice.
Gio still isn’t here.
I lean toward my mom. "Where’s Gio?"
She barely turns her head.
"I don’t know, sweetheart. I haven’t seen him all morning."
I pull out my phone.
ME:
