aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAA

After lunch they are seated in the den, fondly flipping through old photograph albums, when Ilya spies one that makes him lean over and squint. In the way of disposable camera film from the early aughts, it is grainy and overexposed, but there are no mistaking the warm brown eyes and pouty lips of Shane Hollander, looking blank faced at the camera. What comes as a surprise are the bleached blond ends of his dark hair, styled into crunchy looking spikes with obscene amounts of product.

Ilya emits a noise that can only be described as a squawk. Hand clapped to his mouth, because he barely trusts himself to speak, he chokes out, "What is...this?"

Yuna glances over nonchalantly. "Oh, that. Shane begged me to let him get frosted tips when he was 12."

Ilya will die. He will die right here, gagging on suppressed laughter, and Yuna will be forced to clean the mess of his remains off the berber carpet.

"I think he was trying to emulate some boy band he was obsessed with then. NSYNC maybe? I thought it was a bad idea, but David convinced me to let him try it out. Shane was going through a moody period, and he thought it might help."

"And-" Ilya squeaks in way too high a pitch, then clears his throat. "Ahem. And did it?"

Yuna thinks. "Hard to say. God, he was a bit of a bitchy preteen." She chuckles. "He had a poster of Lance Bass taped to his closet door. In hindsight, I should have guessed the gay thing much earlier."

Ilya can no longer contain his laughter. He doubles over with it, waving his hand and wheezing, "Sorry, sorry." He wipes tears from his eyes. "I can have this picture?"

Yuna shrugs. "Sure. The poster is probably still upstairs in his closet, if you want that, too. I've been meaning to clear it out-"

We don’t talk about this enough. With all the big romantic gestures in The Long Game, this, to me, is one of the most romantic moments.

We know Ilya isn’t a fan of Shane’s restrictive diet. He teases him about it, but Ilya is an expert ragebaiter who knows how to tease the people he cares about when they feel safe and in ways that never really hurt.

Shane is “frantic” in this scene. Ilya has the perfect opening to say something about his diet, and he doesn’t take it. He sees that Shane is panicking, steps in and fixes it. He was looking at that menu thinking about Shane and Shane’s fuckass diet that Ilya doesn’t even like. But he knows this is important to Shane. He knows Shane is already nervous about being on a date with Ilya in public and being with another queer couple. So he meets Shane’s needs without Shane ever having to ask, and he does it quietly, without drawing any attention, so that Shane can save face.

Of course he’s gonna tease him about it a little bit later because that’s what they do. But he only does that AFTER Shane’s had a chance to catch his breath and feel safe again.

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

4 year old me: why must we do this

Fantastic old woman in the leopard print coat: "Why yes, my tooth IS real silver! Nobody ever asks me that. Do you like cats?"

Every day I watch her struggle without the urgent treatment she needs. Fear and helplessness overwhelm me, and I don’t know how much longer we can endure this.

My daughters, Alma, Lama, and Lina, ask about their mother and cling to me in fear. I try to stay strong for them, but it gets harder every day.

At the same time, we struggle to meet our basic needs. Food, clean water, medicine, and daily essentials cost more than $200 every day, and we cannot afford this on our own.

Every day donations stop, my fear grows even more. Without your support, we cannot survive, and my family’s future becomes more at risk.

Please, if you are able, donate today. Even the smallest amount can make a real difference for my wife and my children.

If you cannot donate, please share this post. A single share might reach someone who can help.

Please do not leave us to face this alone.