A/N - The second sequel to Unmasking. UNRELATED TO THE OTHER SEQUEL. Reviews are love.
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I will not cry.
Amber cries. The GENterns are crying.
But I won't. I refuse.
The eulogy is as utilitarian as our city. It could have been for anyone. It isn't worthy of the man now being lowered into the ground. I doubt, however, that any speech could have truly captured the many eccentricities of Pavi Largo. He was a unique man, deserving of unique words.
If they had asked me to do the eulogy, it would have been along the lines of how screwed up he was, and how he fucked over pretty much every girl in town.
They probably wouldn't have appreciated it, though.
Instead, I have to listen to this boring old man ramble on about 'nobility' and 'people-loving' and other bullshit that supposedly has something to do with Pavi.
I fiddle with a thread on my black dress. The service must be over soon. It feels like it's been going on for years. I don't even know why I came. I haven't spoken to him in four years.
My eyes travel over the surprisingly small turnout. Luigi and Amber are standing together near the minister; Amber has her face buried in her brother's shoulder. Luigi...always the cold, heartless bastard, not crying or even frowning. Still as a stone.
Apart from them and a smattering of choice GENterns, not many other people have shown up. I'm sure all of the women who have had their hearts broken by him at one point or another are laughing at home right now, thinking that the asshole got his just desserts. I suppose he did.
The eulogist has finally finished speaking. We are standing and circling the grave. Everyone's eyes look down to the mahogany coffin. Yes, always the stand-out Largo sibling, that Pavi. Why go for the generic black box? Have got to be more elegant than the rest, even in death. That was him, all right—my dashing Pavi.
Handfuls of dirt are being tossed on top of the coffin. When it comes my turn, I do not contribute. I will not offer him this last act of respect. He did nothing to earn it.
People are walking away. Gravediggers are hovering on the outskirts of the gathering, waiting to finish their job. I continue to stand over the grave. My sight is locked on the depths; brown on brown. Soon to be indistinguishable. Pavi Largo, the most colourful, charismatic man in our city, is about to assimilate with the blandness. He is going to be as unremarkable as...as me.
The tears are starting to burn. I hold them back.
I hear impatient snorts from the gravediggers, but I don't raise my head even to give them a dirty look.
"Paviche..." I murmur through gritted teeth. "Why?"
With a furious motion, I rip a gaudy plastic ring, still crusted with dirt of another grave, off of my finger and fling it into the hole.
"I saw what was behind your mask, and it disgusted me," I continue to whisper at his dead body. "And I still wanted you. Even now, I want you." I can no longer restrain the tears. They cut paths down my cheeks. "What is it about you, Pavi? Why you? Why me? Why us, in this stupid city, in this stupid time?"
My throat is locking up. I spin away from the grave, determined to never return.
*
The flowers I laid last week are dying. I'll have to replace them soon.
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-end-