Chapter Text
Boris was never a wise man, but he was smart. He knew exactly how to work the system to get what he wanted. Combine that with his looks, and there was no stopping him. He went through life easily, had everything he could have ever wanted. He had a rich family, an allegedly sweet boyfriend, and got handed everything on a silver platter. To many, he was practically a god. To me, he was my best friend. Throughout highschool, we were inseparable. Even his boyfriend, Dane, couldn’t get him to leave my side. I should have taken that as a sign.
The breakup was messy. Boris left, and Dane scoured the city looking for him. I foolishly let Boris in, and told him I would keep him safe. I told him nobody would touch him, and for a while we believed it. When Dane and his boys came in, they cleared the entire house. Never have I come back home quicker than when my brother called me. Blood covered the house, but everyone remained untouched.
Dr. Pearce reads over the journal entry, then looks up at the large man sat across from her. “That must have been a stressful time, Victor.” Her voice is soft, but feels condescending to the man. He’s never had someone talk down to him before.
“I deal with more now than I have before.” Victor shakes his head. Dr. Pearce struggled slightly with placing his accent, but she eventually settled on Russian. “It was nothing compared to now.”
“Still,” Dr. Pearce begins, “it’s not like it doesn’t weigh on your conscience just because you have other things you’re worrying about.”
Victor doesn’t respond, instead opting to look anywhere but at Dr. Pearce. Uncomfortable silence befalls the room, until Dr. Pearce speaks again.
“I would love to hear more about Boris.” Once again, Victor remains silent, prompting the woman to speak again. “We won’t get anywhere if you don’t say anything. If you want to be cleared, you need to at least meet me halfway.”
Victor shakes his head and stands up. “I’m leaving. Have a good night, Doctor.” Before Dr. Pearce can respond, he’s out the door. Dr. Pearce finishes writing her notes, sets her notepad aside, and checks the time. The session had only lasted fifteen minutes. At least it was more than last time. She marks that down again, then heads out of her office.
Victor stalks down the street, a glare settled on his face. He was already used to the people staring as he walked past. Being just over two meters tall meant that he was constantly getting approached for many reasons, the most common of which was people at bars thinking they were funny when they asked about him playing basketball. The glare was something he adopted to try and ward off anyone who dared to bother him. That never stopped the brave few who decided to approach him anyway.
Victor turns toward the entrance to a club. The neon sign read “Saint Valentine’s”. He had always hated the club, but never had he spent so much time there as he has recently. He looks through a window, the lights making his eyes hurt. Despite this, he steps into line. The two women in front of him, despite it only being around nine, already seem wasted. They giggle and gossip together until one of them notices Victor.
“Oh. My. God!” She looks up at him in what looks to Victor to be awe. “You’re, like, so hot! Can I get your number?”
Victor grimaces. “I am not interested.”
“Aww, what? But you’re so,” the woman’s friend gestures to him, “y’know.”
“I do not engage in such deviant behavior.”
The women gasp, pulling away dramatically from Victor. “Wow, okay, asshole. I thought you were hot but I guess you’re just like every other man.”
Victor doesn’t dignify them with a response.