I do not own any of the characters from the musical, nor do I claim to, however the characterisation of Che is my own, hence the character is female here although played by men in the film and musical.

Nor do I claim that this work reflects on the life or thoughts of Eva Peron or any other historical figures. It's fiction, not fact. That said, I will try to be as historically accurate as possible in regards to dates.

Also, please don't leave comments criticising the nature of this piece. If you're homophobic, please leave now.

Chapter 9

The next day, a Sunday, passed as usual. Eva woke late in my arms, we made love slowly in the new way I'd discovered with her the night before, before dressing and eating. She left with the rest of the family for church and a family do with one of her older siblings, and I stayed home.

I was bringing in the wood I'd been chopping outside, arranging some in the baskets in the kitchen ready for the day's fires when I felt him appear. He made a drink, not speaking, though I noticed when I stood up that he'd made one for me as well. I took it up, sipping the cool liquid but didn't thank him, frowning at him as I watched his eyes run over my body.

"How often does she make you do that?"

I shrugged, putting the drink back down and going back to my work. Let him stare at me if he really must.

"I mean...it's obvious to anyone that you love her, Che...but Ada always make you entertain men?"

"Her name. Is Eva"

"Eva...what did she want out of it?"

"Buenos Aires. Setting her up somewhere."

He nodded, getting up. When I glanced back, I caught his eyes on my chest, taking me in. There was a long pause between us as I drew up, nearly his height myself and my growth spurt hadn't quite finished yet. Magaldi sipped at his glass of water, before meeting my eyes an giving in, nodding.

"You would be going?"

"Of course I'd be going"

"I can't promise agents or anything...but do yourself a favour. In the city, you need to have mastered the voice. Men'll beat the life out of you if they see any women, beside whores, having your kind of relationship. The hair you can get around, but you need to sound like a man. It's the only way you'll both survive."

I frowned more. That was hardly the response I'd expected, and I certainly hadn't expected his advice on top of that. We both moved back to the table, now talking seriously, almost as if this man hadn't watched me make love the previous night.

"Are we common?"

"No. Whores will touch each other and kiss for the money, but like you two? No. One or two in the acting circles and even then, they'll hide it whenever they can. And then...there's not what you two have."

"Oh?"

"You two are real...and it's rare that anything like that catches my eye"

"So why watch?"

"You're a beauty, that's why...and for that, I can get you a few weeks at most in a bedsit. Best I can offer, and it's for you, not her. I don't pay whores"

He left, leaving me stunned at his words. For...me? Had he really said that I was...? Eva herself had only said it in relation to the word 'boy', and normally then only in bed. More over, there was the wave of reassurance at his reaction to us. The reminder I needed that my Eva really did love me, that she couldn't forget me like she'd forgotten him.