#yvan mentioned

1. (In-story memory circa mid-1910s. Intermediate school. Le Maladroit. Think of all dialogue as ‘translated from French’.)

Le Maladroit’s day seemed to be going nicely so far, and he was enjoying his delicious sandwiches made with love. As the young child preferred solitude (at the time), he sat alone; if he wasn’t eating, he was giggling between bites as he bounced his legs up and down. However, L.M. saw something at the corner of his eye; 2 mean-looking boys around his age. He tried to look away, but it was already too late.

“You! Fat boy! Yes, I’m talking to you, freak!”, yelled Boy #1. L.M. was gripping the lunch tray, which had only an empty lunchsack on it. “I bet you sit alone because you have no friends!”, Boy #2 joined in, invading the smallest child’s personal space by crowding over him. #2 grabbed the lunchsack, then was disappointed when he saw there was nothing inside. “Looks like there’s nothing to take. Well, I think we know what to do next!”, he said to #1 with a creepy grin.

#2 chucked the empty bag aside, painfully grabbing on L.M.’s ears, while #1 pulled on his 2 long cowlicks from behind. L.M. screamed and squirmed around, kicking hard enough to shake the table, not even letting go of the lunch tray; speaking of which, he decked #2 in the face hard enough to give him a shiner, and swung the tray backwards at #1. #1 was whacked unconscious, and #2 had an even crueler idea than trying to steal a boy’s lunch or tug on his ears: “HELP! HELP! L.M. ATTACKED MY FRIEND!”

Unfortunately for L.M., these bullies put on a convincing angelic act around their teachers all the time, while he was seen as ‘eccentric’ and ‘misbehaving’. Much to the chagrin of L.M., the one teacher who was there took #2′s side. Le Maladroit snapped, which didn’t help his case, and he was struggling against the teacher when she tried to bring him back inside.

While things were eventually corrected, this particular memory still infuriates Yvan to this day. He doesn’t care how old it is, if it’s real or not, or if those bullies even had names; it’s ingrained in his head, so he has to feel something, right?

2. (Memory circa early 1930s. Yvan was on the original Bonhomme Studios property, taking a break after being on film. It was just a few days after receiving his new name, which he was excited about. He and Helena have been dating offscreen for a few days. Think of all dialogue as ‘translated from French’.)

“Is everything okay, Helena? You seem uneasy lately.”, Yvan said with concern. Helena looked at Yvan, with eyes glossed with fear. “No…yes…no…erm…”, she managed to respond. Yvan spoke up again: “Nobody’s hurting you, right? You’ve been staying away from most of us, and always looked away whenever Barry made eye contact with you outside of filming. Please don’t think I’m being a hypocrite; I don’t like eye contact in general. But you…this is not your usual behavior.“ Helena quickly examined the area; having noticed Barry walking, she shushed Yvan as she pushed him into her dressing room.

“He’s nearby.”, she whispered. “Why did–” Yvan talked at his regular volume, which was a bit above average (almost like shouting), which brought Helena to put a hand on his mouth. “Barry is evil, Yvan. I can see it in his eyes. I have reason to believe he sees me as some sort of obstacle, like I’m taking you away from him. Whenever that happens, I feel like my days are numbered.” This got a shocked “Hmm?!” from Yvan as he swiveled his head towards her, still with his mouth covered. “I don’t know his motives, what he wants, or what he’ll do. Please tell me you believe me!”

Helena found herself gripping her free hand on his shoulder, slowly letting go of it when she noticed he showed discomfort. Yvan quickly removed Helena’s other hand from his mouth, her showing no resistance to this sudden movement. “He can’t possibly– Barry isn’t– he’s my friend– are you sure–  oh, dear…” Helena had her arms around him, shaking very badly with tears in her eyes. “I’m scared, Yvan!” Yvan was caressing her hair, having trouble finding the right words to say. “If it’s…any consolation to you, I…I’ll ask him some questions.”

The wavy-haired darling pulled back, gazing at her love with worry and confusion. “You two aren’t going to fight, are you?” Yvan simply shook his head. “I’ll make sure you’ll be safe, okay?” He smooched and patted her hand, then she leaned down for them to kiss. There was a knock on the door. “Ms. Petran! Break time ends in 15 minutes! I hope you know where my cousin is, because I can’t find him anywhere!”, said Kenneth from outside. The couple chuckled, then stared at each other as they tried to figure out how to explain why they were in Helena’s dressing room together. “I’ll be there soon!”, she hollered.

While Yvan had occasionally helped out with makeup for both fixing another person’s cosmetics, and for segments where he had to dress in drag, he wasn’t an expert on it; thankfully, it was an easy fix for his sweetheart. Helena was not one to cry in public, and wanted to keep it that way. They’d be meeting up with the others soon, so interrogating Barry had to wait.