ch9 of sd&an now also on squidgeworld!!
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Oscar knew that while it felt like the axel of the earth had shifted when he confessed to Carlos, it hadn’t. The world was turning at exactly the same speed it has since forever and while his life has changed, no one’s else has.
So it comes as quite a shock, when Mark picks him up from the airport, sporting a ring shining bright enough for Oscar to notice. And sure, Oscar would be the first to admit he’s not the most observant person on the planet, but Christ. You must be able to see that ring from fucking mars.
“Erm, anything you want to tell me?” Oscar asks, his new bag-pack Carlos brought him for the trip when he found out he hadn’t packed a thing—not even a toothbrush—slipping off his lap and down to the floor of the car.
“You being thousands of kilometres away from me, gives me some time off. Who would have thought.”
“Enough time off to get married?”
Mark glance at him. Then he rolls his eyes. “I did not get married, Oscar. I doubt even you could miss that.”
“What’s with the,” Oscar points down at the visibly new ring. “Then?”
“My long-term partner and I agreed to… take the next step.” He says.
“Your long-term partner? I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone.”
“You don’t know everything about me.”
Oscar opens his mouth to argue, then closes it.
“And I don’t think you should be one to talk about secret relationships.” Mark adds. “Hypocrite.”
Oscar folds his arms and leans back in his seat, a frown on his lips. He yawns.
Mark looks at him again and sighs. “Did you two get everything figured out?”
“For now.” Oscar looks out of the window. The chain around his neck feels heavy and awkward. Oscar is surprised Mark hasn’t noticed it, but how would he? It is small, hidden behind his shirt. He had already caught himself forgetting it’s there and flinching when the cold metal hit his chest.
Carlos had found it for him to keep the ring on, when they got home from the restaurant. Wearing the ring on his finger… yeah, no, that would be a horrible idea. No matter how much Oscar might want to.
But with the ring on a chain, it was close to him at all times, closer to his heart.
His room was as he’d left it. Pieces of a broken remote scattered around the floor.
He’s become a changed man since making his relationship official, so instead of just collapsing on his bed, he goes and finds a broom and cleans the mess up.
He picks up some dinner from a local pizzeria. The jetlag isn’t hitting him yet, thankfully. He didn’t take his laptop with him to Spain and even just a couple of days away from it, has made his unread emails reach the thousands. He sighs and gets to work.
The election is getting closer and closer and you can feel it on the rising stress levels in the house. Now it’s not only his mother, and sometimes Oscar, no, now it's everyone. The campaign workers run around like headless chickens, Mae moved to dad temporarily to get away from the noise and Oscar is waiting.
He paces his floor until his feet hurt, he sits outside his mum’s office, he types and retypes emails over and over again, and he waits for something to do.
He’s benched, more or less, and it was fine then, but then is not now.
He wants—no—he needs something to do.
Mark isn’t any help either. Oscar tried to get his sisters to help him figure out who he’s engaged to, but they all ridiculed him.
“Maybe you should go back to school, just for a week or two.”
“You could go back as a guest lecturer,” Edie gasps. “I’m a hundred percent sure some students would love for the prime minister’s son to come teach.”
“It’s still break.” Oscar reminds them, deadpan.
None of his sisters are of much help.
He offers becoming a coffee runner, but even that is being too close, when you’re canoodling with foreign royalty, his mother’s words.
But maybe he shouldn’t have wished for something to do quite as hard.
Hattie knocks at his door early and points her phone in his face. “Mark’s gonna call soon, I think.”
“Oh, fuck me.”
It’s a nice picture annoyingly, something you would see on one of those artistic Tumblr’s. or, it would be a nice picture, if it was not of Carlos and Oscar both leaning in for a kiss over the console of Carlos’ car.
“I mean, you can’t really tell you were about to kiss.”
“Obviously, you can.”
Hattie scoffs. “I know you. If you saw this picture, you would just think they were leaning in to hear each other better, which with your, you know, deafness is not too hard to believe.”
“Deafness?”
“Yes, deafness.” Hattie repeats, louder. “See what I mean?” She rolls her eyes and taps her phone too quickly for Oscar to keep track. “Here, they just think you were trying to get a better look at the sunset.”
“Their add is fruitycarlostruther.”
“Potahto, potatoh.” She waves the phone around. “And there is more than one Carlos in the world, it’s probably just one of those athletes. Anyways, the point is—”
Oscar’s phone cuts her off. It’s Mark calling. Oscar hisses and declines.
“He’s already on his way.” Hattie informs him.
“I know.” He whines.
She lets him have exactly ten seconds to think before she speaks again. “What are you going to do?”
“Shoot myself?” he murmurs. “God, I don’t know.” For some reason, something like this happening had never crossed his mind. It would either be so completely obvious no one could deny it, or so normal that there would be nothing to deny. This… this was skirting between the lines.
Hattie keeps speaking but Oscar can’t listen. Only yesterday, he and Carlos had discussed what they would do in the future, how they would keep going like this, if they would come out or… or if they didn’t get the chance to come out themselves.
“…But it’s getting a bit more traction than just a rumour.” Hattie’s nails tapped against her screen. “No one thinks anything of it, it’s a joke, but more are posting about it now. Oh,” she startles.
“What?”
“Did you text Jack? He’s blowing up my phone.”
Oscar looks down at his own. No calls show up.
“Ugh, gimme.” She faces the palm of her hand up and Oscar puts his phone there. His brain was still drowning, but doing what his sisters tell him to do is a preprogrammed order. She scoffs. “You put it on Do Not Disturb.” She tells him. “Carlos’ called too.”
He moves like lightning, calling his boyfriend back. “Hello?”
“Did you see?”
“Hattie is showing me now, yes.” Oscar turns his back to her and begins pacing. “It’s not that bad, is it?”
Carlos doesn’t answer immediately. “My grandmother is asking questions. She is… not happy.”
Oscar flinches. “What is she saying?”
“Nothing. That is the problem. She hasn’t even called me for a meeting.” Carlos breathes heavily. “It is from Bianca, I am hearing this. She said mother is coming home.”
A beat comes and goes.
“Is this really so terrible?” Oscar frowns.
There’s a noise of friction on the other side. Oscar knows him well enough to know he’s shrugging. “They think they control me. They do not. Now they’re realising it.” He answers shortly.
“Oh,” is all Oscar can say.
There’s a sigh. “I need to go. Fernando is getting me back to Spain.”
“…Good luck.”
Hattie is waiting for him when he hangs up.
“All good?”
Oscar stares at her. “No. No, all is not ‘good’.”
She grimaces. “Sorry. Mark is downstairs now.” She points down the stairs. “Edie got him down in the kitchen for something to drink before he could come up here. Thought you might need five.”
Sometimes Oscar forgets how great his sisters are. This is not one of those times.
He pulls her into a hug, crushing his arms around her. “Thank you. And sorry.”
“All is fine, dude. You just need to see that too.” She takes a step back, keeping a hand on his arm. “This is nothing. This will blow over a thousand times quicker than the wedding disaster. You’re only freaking out because it’s real for you now.” She gives him a pat before going for the stairs.
His mother is in Sydney, thank fuck, so the emergency meeting being held in their kitchen isn’t in danger of being hijacked. Not by her, at least.
It is, however, in danger of being hijacked by a very angry, very Spanish man.
Oscar has the feeling of being in the middle of a fever dream.
The accent could be heard from rooms away, loud and commanding, and it made a bead of cold sweat run down his back. When he finally enters the kitchen though, it’s not as bad as he’d imagined. For one, there is no Spanish man in the room, only a phone on speaker.
“Oscar is with me now.” Mark tells him when he catches sight of his hunching figure.
“Good. You tell the boy the plan. I will call you.”
Oscar has never been more relieved to hear the end of call beep.
“How much did you hear?”
“Not much.” Oscar replies. “Only the end. Is it bad over there?”
Mark looks at him, really looks at him. Oscar doesn’t think he looks too bad, but Mark probably disagrees.
“Have you spoken to the Infante?”
He nods. “He didn’t tell me a lot.”
“Are you okay?”
Oscar shrugs.
Mark tilts his head, letting out a sigh. “This isn’t anything to worry about, not for you.”
“Yeah, because none of this is about me. No one gives a shit about me, it’s all about Carlos.”
Mark raises an eyebrow.
“Not like—not like that, I mean,” Oscar stops. “Okay, I don’t know what I mean, but this isn’t—this isn’t only him. It’s also me.”
“Right.”
“So, it’s not only him who should be forced to do—I don’t even know what, but I should too.” He looks expectingly at Mark. “What is the plan from their side?”
“From the sounds of it… they are getting him a girlfriend.”
“What?!” Mark has barely finished talking before Oscar’s yell.
“Not a real one!” Mark reassures. “Just someone he will be seen in public with, to let the rumours rest.”
“And he agreed to this?”
Mark’s face did a very complicated thing. “Not… exactly.”
Oscar folds his arms and glares.
“Christ, Oscar, I’m as against this as you are. It’s psychotic. But it is what it is.”
“He can refuse.”
“He won’t. You know he won’t, Oscar,” Mark rubs the bridge of his nose. “It’s the fucking queen. It’s one against all over there, kid.”
“And is the queen the ‘one’? ‘Cause I know Carlos is not standing alone.”
“There’s nothing for you to do. Or,” Mark shifts. “The only thing you can do is leave him alone.”
Oscar sputters.
“You might not have a choice. I’m sorry. This is out of my hands, and yours too.”
He wants to argue but doesn’t get the chance.
“Talk to him. He can explain it better than I.” Mark stands up and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Just… look, I’m sorry. I wish it was—…” he trails off, a faraway look in his eyes. “I wish it was different. For everyone there.”
Oscar is unsettled. He drinks a cup of tea on Mark’s order, downs another one on Hattie’s, and spends a long time staring blankly at the wall.
His phone buzzes with an email nearly four hours after he spoke with Carlos.
He calls him instead of reading it.
“You accepted?”
“I didn’t. I didn’t get a choice.” Carlos sounds rough. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no, don’t I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just,” he drags a frustrated hand down his face. “This is insane. I can’t believe they’re dictating your life just because of this. This is nothing.”
Carlos snorts. “I would not call it ‘nothing’. But I know.” Oscar waits for him to go on. “We have reached a boiling point. The queen, she has had… ideas. About whom I spend time with, or at least of which gender they were. She was not happy then and she is not happy now.”
“Oh,” is all Oscar can muster.
“Yeah. What she said today, it cannot have been planned on a whim. She has known and she has waited for the right time, she knew I could do nothing.”
Oscar’s throat burns. “But,” his voice cracks. “But what are you going to do?”
“What I can.” Comes the honest reply. “Which is not much.”
“Your mum!” Oscar remembers. “You said she was coming?”
There’s a long pause. “She is not here yet. She does not know anything, and I am not going to tell her, and neither is my grandmother.”
“Well, she would help if she knew, right? So, tell her.”
“I don’t know.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t know if she would help me if she knew.” Carlos says. “Ana is doing what she can, but she is not in good standing as it is. Bianca knows nothing, only that the meeting took place. Grandmother didn’t tell her what it was about, but she knew it was important enough to tell me what was happening.”
Mark’s earlier words come back to him. It’s one against all, kid. Oscar is hit with how little he knows. Of how the royalty works, of how Carlos’ family is, of how those two might braid together. He knows nothing.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asks desperately. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You being here helps. Talking to me helps. I do not know what to do either.” Carlos admits. “Fernando says I should distance myself from you. Publicly, I mean. My ‘girlfriend’ is not a stranger, to look at the positives. She will know fast, I am not interested, and she will leave me alone.”
“How fast is ‘fast’?”
“Not fast enough. But it will be fine. This is not my first time.” He says with an empty laugh.
“…I’m sorry.” Oscar repeats. “I thought,” he shrugs. “I thought I could do more, I guess.”
“You are doing more than you can imagine.”
Oscar shuffles back and forth. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Carlos echoes. “And I miss you already.”
His mother came home late that evening. She hadn’t heard of any of the mess currently happening online, which should be a relief to hear but isn’t. Because now Oscar has to explain to her what’s happening.
She drags him with her to a meeting, but he gets kicked out before the actual meeting begins. He’s not mad, this is the most in the loop he’s been since he was kicked from the campaign.
He is, however, pissed that because of the kicking out, he was left alone to wander around the building. And if he hadn’t been that, then he wouldn’t have seen Daniel Ricciardo leaving. And to make matters even worse, just as the door is about to shut in his face, Daniel looks up, directly at Oscar. He nods his head.
Oscar follows him, an old, not buried habit of being his intern for years.
Oscar’s week went from bad to shitty to horrible over four long days.
He first had to say goodbye to Carlos after finally making it official, that alone was enough to put a damper on his mood. And then, the very next day, he had to make peace with his boyfriend getting a fake girlfriend just so people wouldn’t think he’s together with Oscar, even though he is.
And now he is standing beside Daniel fucking Ricciardo. He doesn’t know what he was thinking.
Daniel has a cigarette between two fingers, steadily inhaling and then blowing out smoke. Oscar tries not to cough.
“You have nothing to say to me?” He asks.
“I thought it was the other way around.”
“Hmm. Touché.” He blows out a cloud of ill smelling nicotine smoke. Even after years of staying in a British boarding school, Oscar did not get used to the smell.
“What are you even doing here?” Oscar finally bursts.
Daniel ever so egregiously shrugs. “We have a meeting.”
“Right. Sure.” Now that Oscar has gotten started, he can’t stop. “It’s just, I can’t believe you. Brown? Really? I just—why?!”
“He offered me something I couldn’t decline.” He answers, a rehearsed reply. “Being pissed about politics like this is a rookie mistake, Oscar.”
“I’m not pissed; I’m fucking—sad!”
For the first time since he came to stand beside Oscar, Daniel looks at him. “Sad.” He states.
“Yes, sad. You know, when I started working for you it wasn’t because you paid well, or were a good boss, never mind that you were, it was because you stood for something good. You had principles and didn’t care if they made you disliked. It was honourable.” Oscar blurts. “And then—what? You begin working for Brown? Brown who is against everything you stand for, is against the very existence of you? And you’re just doing it? Without argument?” He shakes his head with a scoff. “You are not who I thought you were.”
Daniel doesn’t say anything, just lets his cigarette burn.
“It’s sad to see someone lose their morals like this.” Oscar utters. “It’s fucking disgusting.” He turns to him. “People looked up to you. I looked up to you! Just for you to do—this.” He scoffs again.
“So, you came out here to tell me how much of a loser I am, is that it?”
“I came out here to ask you; why. Why the fuck would you do this?!”
“Oscar—”
“No! Fucking answer me!” Oscar shoves his hands in his pockets. He’s afraid he will do something he’ll regret otherwise. “Do you remember when you showed me the pictures you keep of all the kids you’ve helped? You told me each and everyone’s story, because you cared enough to remember them all, even when you were, maybe, the only one in the world who did. You still kept in touch with them years, decades after, because you cared, not for the work you did, not the success you’d achieved, but for the people.” He breathes in soundly. “I just. Brown? Of all people, Brown, the man who has never cared about anything but how much money he can get in his pockets.”
Daniel shakes his head, but Oscar doesn’t let him speak.
“Does he have something on you? Is he making you do this? Because if that’s it, I can help, mum can help.”
Daniel rolls his eyes. “Your family has been kind to me, done more for me than you know. But this is my choice and mine only.”
“Then fucking tell me why.”
“No.”
Oscar throws his hands up in the air. It’s a better alternative to where he really wants to throw them.
“You know, I thought I knew you; I really did. I went into your office everyday thinking, ‘yeah, I want to be like him, because I know him’. Because I want to help people. Help them like you did.” He forces the words out. He almost thinks he’s gotten through to him.
“You don’t know anything about me.” Daniel says, quietly. “Nothing, nada, nix. No one does, fuck!” He shuts his eyes and rubs them with his free hand. “Jeez, Oscar. Can’t you find some other fucking role model. Don’t make my mistakes, don’t be like I am.”
“I already am like you.” He tells him, can’t not. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Daniel looks at him for a very long time. He blinks. “What do you mean.” It’s not a question, yet Oscar’s answers anyway.
“You know what I mean.”
“You’re—you—no.” He stammers. “You’re not like me.” He says, finally.
Oscar holds eye contact with him, watching. “No, I could never be like you. I could never betray my own ethics. But I am… I am.” He states.
“Fine!” Daniel snaps. “Okay. But you can still go marry a nice girl, you can do that. You can pretend none of it has happened and go on to live your life without these,” he waves around like a madman, “shadows following you.”
Oscar stares at him unblinking, knowing what would fall if he did. “You’re right,” he says. “I am nothing like you. I could never—I could never pretend to be someone I’m not. I could never act like I don’t love who I love.”
Daniel takes out a new cigarette and lights it, blowing the smoke directly into Oscar’s face. This time he does cough. “You can’t fucking say things like this.” He inhales sharply. “What the fuck are you even thinking?! I’m on your fucking opponent’s side; I can’t know this! Fuck!” He exclaims.
“This is what I mean!” Oscar urges. “Do you think Brown would stop me once I poured my heart out to him? No! He would wait until he has as much dirt on me as possible.”
“Oscar,” Daniel stops him. “Stop talking. For both of us I need you to pretend this conversation never took place. You didn’t say any of this, got it? You need to be careful.”
Oscar stands defiantly. He takes a step closer, close enough Daniel can hear what he has to say, even when the words barely reach a whisper. “I trusted you.” His eyes dark and lips pulled into a tight line; he doesn’t pull his punches. “No, I believed in you.”
“I know,” Daniel’s words are barely even a sound. “And now I need you to leave.” Go, he mouths.
Oscar turns on his heels.
Whatever amends he thought he would be making, no, whatever questions he thought he might get answered, none of his expectations happened. He doesn’t know what he was thinking to make his way out there.
His mum is waiting in the car when he finally finds her. She doesn’t comment on his mood.
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