My fourth update in one night. I'm quite proud of that. I hope you like it, I really do.
The door knocked, and Naboo felt himself flush with heat. He got up, crossed the room, and opened it.
He wasn't quite prepared for how much older Howard would look. The lines on his face were so much deeper, and there was grey appearing in his hair.
Naboo stepped back, lost for words for once, to let Howard in.
Howard entered just as silently.
Naboo followed him into the living room, where he was looking at Ciro and Consuela as though surprised to see them there.
"Go on," Howard said to them.
"Let them stay," Naboo objected.
"I don't want them here," said Howard. His tone was far more assured than Naboo had ever heard it. No trace of nervousness, uncertainty. And no trace of pretence.
Looking at each other, just as nervous as Naboo was, Ciro and Consuela got up and left them alone.
"What happened?" Howard asked.
"Everything happened," replied Naboo.
"Why are you here?"
"I wanted to find you."
"To find me but not to see me."
"I was… nervous," Naboo said. Nervous wasn't quite the right word. He wasn't afraid because he knew no harm would come to him. He wasn't anxious because there was no pressure. Maybe he was just overwhelmed, though he'd been overwhelmed by things before and it had never quite felt like this.
"So you came to my son?"
"He came to me," Naboo told him. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that. I've never used him. I like him."
"What have you told him?"
"A lot of things." Naboo can't quite manage to go into specifics straight away. "I've told him about when we first knew each other, about the zoo, the shop. He asked why you left. I just told him you wanted something new. It wasn't a complete lie. I just didn't tell him why."
Howard's eyes gazed around the room. Naboo saw them come to rest on the old photo of Vince, taken after Howard had gone.
"What about Vince?" he asked.
"He lasted eight months."
Howard looked at him. A look of shock, of confusion.
He turned back to the photo, studying it anew. "He's so thin…"
"Anorexia," Naboo informed him.
Howard put the photo down. He stood there, rigid, almost shaking. Naboo pushed him over to a chair, and he sat down. He was still hunched, his mouth was still open, and his eyes were still wide with disbelief.
"I never thought…"
"None of us did," answered Naboo.
A memory. Chinese takeaway. Vince requested it, but he isn't eating it.
"Do you want it microwaving?" Naboo asks, more out of habit or desperation that anything else.
"Nah," replied Vince. He puts the plate down on the floor.
"Please don't," begs Naboo. "Not again."
Vince just sighs.
"You're ill, you know," Naboo tells him. "It's an illness, and you need help."
"It's not an illness!" Vince shouts. He almost screams it, and Naboo jumps in his seat. "It's… penance."
Naboo stares at him. "You can't blame yourself," he says.
"Well I am," argues Vince, sullen like a teenager, but a grown man's reason to be.
"People grow apart-"
"Not like that, they don't!" Vince shrieks. "People who are that close, who love each other that much, don't just 'grow apart'!"
"Siblings grow apart," Naboo counters. "Children who spend every day of their lives together for years and years grow up sometimes to never speak to each other again. It happens."
"But I made it happen."
Naboo searches for an answer. All these years on, he still hasn't found one.