"So...the Genterns."

Pavi swirled the wine around in the glass before taking a sip. He waited until the glass was set down before choosing to acknowledge what I had said.

"The Genterns," he repeated as he handed our menus to the waiter sweeping by the table. He paused to announce our orders, then diverted his attention back to the table, waiting for me to continue. I could just see the shadows of his face illuminated by the candle set between us. The restaurant, though furnished finely and boasting a successful enterprise, had a certain dismal air.

"Why" was all I could say before my self-consciousness shut me up. My intention was to ask him why he loved the company of the horny sycophants, but wondering if it would be rude had made me hesitate.

He seemed to have caught my drift anyway. "They enjoy-a being around the Pavi—what can I-a say? I will not deny them the-a company of a friend."

My ensuing laugh was scornful. "Friend? They consider you a friend? I figured you were a way for them to get their rocks off. It's not like they'd be interesting conversation." I kept my eyes focused to a point somewhere over his left shoulder. Even if I had accepted his offer to go to dinner, I still disagreed with his lifestyle. I still disliked him.

Pavi's reaction of shock and dismay was so exaggerated that I allowed myself a grudging smile. He had charisma—no wonder the people flocked to him.

"Ah, bella! You-a say that the Pavi is an object to those-a girls, that they don't like me for me!" The last word came out as a trill that drew the attention of nearby diners. I could see a fair few young ladies glaring in our general direction.

The red was rising in my cheeks, a hot flush that even I could feel. "Well, yeah," I mumbled.

His chuckle was disarming. "I-a knew you were a smart one, bambina. The Genterns...they are-a...how do you say...they are amusement for the Pavi." He scratched absently at one of the clasps binding his mask to his mangled face. "They are lovely girls, but not-a smart, like you."

"You never struck me as someone one could have an intelligent conversation with, either, Mr Largo." Ouch. That was below the belt.

"Please, call me Pavi." His eyes revealed amusement far more sincere than that portrayed by his mask of comedy. "Bella, the Pavi is certainly not-a smart enough to run-a GeneCo, but he is not a complete idioto! I-a know enough..." His voice trailed as the waiter set out plates before us, gave a quick bow to Pavi and pranced off to the kitchens.

Our conversation remained subdued as we ate. My stomach had been protesting for the past hour or so, indicating that I had not eaten anything during my walk. My depression was escalating, and I was afraid.

Whenever I thought it safe, I snuck quick peeks at Pavi while he ate. Everything about him demonstrated a polished upbringing. It was hard to believe that he was brother to Amber and Luigi, crude as they were. Though frivolous and juvenile at times, he was not intolerable to be around. It was almost possible to forget about his face-stealing...but as the thought crossed my mind, even my ravenous appetite dwindled into a feeling of illness. I pushed the plate of spaghetti away.

Pavi noticed the shift in the atmosphere and looked up. "Is-a something wrong with-a the food?" He returned his gaze to his own plate, as if confused that his meal could taste good while mine didn't.

"No...I...er..." My breath began to speed up as I saw myself for where I really was: dining with a wanton skin thief, the indirect reason for the shattering of my friendship with Lana. It was all I could do not to bolt right then and there.

"Bella?"

"Pavi..." I finally raised my eyes to his. "You're a sick bastard, and I hate you." The words sounded weak, but it was the only thing that came to my fumbling mind.

He was taken aback, and this time, the recoil was genuine. He wasn't used to criticism. This was the man who expected all girls to drop to their knees, mouths open, as soon as he entered the room. I saw his hand twitch for the mirror he had laid on the table, perhaps to seek comfort from the only person he considered to be truly beautiful and worth minding.

I wanted to say something truly scathing then, to take him down a peg, to let him know that not everyone swooned in his presence. My vocal chords, however, had failed. Furious and lacking anything to spit out with the vehemence boiling inside, I stormed from the restaurant. I didn't look back to see how the effeminate whore was reacting to my departure.

The anger was relief. The anger was emotion. The anger was something that wasn't about to consume me in a fog of despair. It felt wonderful. I felt free. I inhaled a lungful of suffocating city air, and smiled for the first time in over a month.

I learned within a very short time that it's difficult to stoke one's anger for very long if the source of it is nowhere near. Luckily enough for me, Pavi had taken to prowling my neighbourhood with his Genterns in tow. Whether he was doing it on purpose to find me or whether he just enjoyed the quiet suburban atmosphere, I wasn't quite sure. All I know is that roaming the streets with him lurking at every corner was no easy task.

It did keep my rage fuelled, though, to see the Genterns grinding him whenever he stopped for a moment in his strolls. Apparently, amusement was all that the youngest Largo sibling required. Half a brain wasn't criteria for admission into his entourage. The sight of their uninhibited envy to get into his pants was enough to upset my stomach with ill-suppressed fury. The Genterns, the Genterns, the Genterns...I hated them dearly. If their throats had gotten ripped out by Repo Men, I wouldn't have cared.

Sometimes I had the bitter urge to walk up and slap Pavi just as Lana had done to me, but I feared giving away my position. He didn't know for sure where I lived, after all. Hopefully, he would leave if I didn't resurface.

The days got lonelier. I began calling my parents more often to just to pass the time. My dad was in hospital for a heart transplant to cure an infection that had been brewing. My mother was still looking into the costs, seeing if she could afford some joint operations while they were at it.

I guess you could say that we were fairly fortunate. Due to their careers connected indirectly to GeneCo, my parents had earned enough to stay in a modest home in a neighbourhood on the other side of town. They were by no means rich, but if ever they needed some procedure performed on their bodies, it was normally not an issue to cover the fees. Nonetheless, they had been careful to not become dependent on the surgeries. As a result, their debt was not crawling upwards like so many people in the city. They managed to stay ahead of it all.

Of course, it was thanks to my parents that my knee problem had been taken care of before it worsened and left for me to fix when I got older. Being jobless was only possible at the moment because of the small sum my parents had bequeathed me in order to support myself before I got on my feet. Two years had passed since I moved out, though, and still no work. My funds were running low, but I couldn't summon the will necessary to go job-hunting. The recent past had done nothing to inspire me either.

If worse came to worst, I often told myself, I could always run back to Pavi and become a Gentern. At least then, my job would require little effort. Sort out some organs, maybe, stock shelves, do a little nurse work, sleep with Pavi now and then—simple as that.

It would be a cold day in hell before it came to that; of that I was certain. If I never came across that masked lunatic for the rest of my life, I would be perfectly content. As you know, though, this story would be over right now if such a thing had happened. Life would have gone on, and maybe things might have been better.

Of course, as I have already stated, life isn't without its obstacles. And I hadn't truly run into Pavi Largo—not yet.