tomorrow I shall burn You. dixi.

Daniel finds him, Daniel fucks him, and Daniel leaves him: over, and over, and over again.

From his wayward fledgling, Armand gets a taste of his own medicine.

He was walking the streets in Mombasa at night. A shadow fell in step beside him, followed him silently to where he was staying, held open the door for him with deeply ironic chivalry. He was leaning against a bar counter in Huancayo and suddenly smelling Daniel’s particular brand of cigarettes. Getting drunk off human beings in a nightclub in Rocinha, and then Daniel was putting his arms around him from behind. In Ushuaia, at the end of the world, Armand woke in bed to someone on top of him, an overwhelming presence bearing down on him and smothering him, and he threw them off with all of his strength, in a numb panic—only for Daniel to spring up again grinning and come right back. He spent two weeks in a whorehouse in Canberra before Daniel showed up, annoyed, saying, “Jesus, Armand,” and pulling him out of there; “you sure know how to show me a good time, huh?” I do not show you anything, Armand thought. I show you only myself.