The Degradation (translation)

Chapter 13.2

If you have diabetes, you take diabetes medication. If you have hypertension, you take blood pressure medication. But as soon as you start taking psychotropic drugs, everyone around you reacts as if you don't deserve to be in the same room with them.

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Louis' pov

I never got to sleep. It's been six days, and I've almost forgotten about sleeping. After our conversation, I continued to lie on the bed, staring at nothing and thinking about him. I twist myself inside out, trying to figure out how best to tell him that I know everything. I wasn't in class today. Too tired. I'm not used to getting so little sleep. On the contrary, I need a very good night of sleep to be in shape, but I can't. There are too many thoughts in my head. I have to talk to him. Now. I can't wait any longer. I do not want. I'm afraid I won't have the courage to wait too long. He might get mad at me... I don't want to lose him. I spent hours trying to figure out how I would react if I were in his shoes. If only he knew so much about me. Badly. I would have reacted very badly. I would feel betrayed, and maybe that's why I'm so nervous. At three o'clock in the afternoon, I get into the Lamborghini and repeat my rehearsed speech for the hundredth time. It's not difficult. You go there, knock on the balcony door, talk and accept the consequences. I won't tell him everything. Just about the flash drive and Samantha. We'll save the medicine, blades, and scalpels for later. I can't talk about it. I know I should, but I can't. I still can't take responsibility for going through his bathroom. This shouldn't have been done, so I won't say anything. If he leaves me alone in his house, it's because he trusts me. And I'm already going to lose his trust when I tell him what I'm going to tell him. You can't tell everything at once. It will be too much for him and for me. At 3:25pm I go up the alley leading to his house. He told me to always park in the back yard, and that's fine with me, so I won't meet his father. You get up, knock, talk. I sigh, gathering my courage before getting out of the car. You get up, knock, talk. It's not difficult. Theoretically. I would have laughed if I hadn't been so worried. I climb the old stone staircase, skipping four steps at a time. The main thing is not to forget anything. I scratch the tip of my nose, closing my eyes. As long as he didn't overreact. You speak and accept the consequences. You speak and accept the consequences. I repeat it so intensely in my head that I forget to knock. I push open the glass door and walk quickly into the room, head down. The words themselves begin to fly out at maximum speed. Half of what I say is incomprehensible nonsense. Everything I'd been rehearsing all night had gone down the drain. But I can't stop the flow of words. Not now.

"I know about you and Samantha. You left your flash drive in my car that night, and I couldn't help but look at what was on it, because I'm nosy, and I'm also a moron. Curious cretin. And I saw the pictures and realized that she was your girlfriend and you were very beautiful in the pictures, I've never seen you smile like that, and yes, I know I shouldn't have done that. But this is stronger than me, I even printed out one photo where you are alone, and I keep it under my pillow. I'm a complete idiot, I know. You can mock me all you want, but don't get mad, please. I just wanted to find out who Samantha is, and I know what she's done... That she killed herself, and it must be hard for you... And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for digging around like this, but this is stronger than me. Hell, I already said that. But I really needed to get to know you, because you never talked to me, and neither did Anonymous. I know you can tell me to go to hell with a clear conscience, but I don't want to go anywhere. So if you kick me out, I can stand outside your door until you take pity and let me back in. Or not, you don't have to let me in. Just lend me Bastard, and we'll both be sitting on the doorstep, so I'll be less lonely. And, your voice. I listened to your song. Hell, I know it by heart. I know you want to kick me out now, not sing, but I love your voice and your song. At least it's talking to me, not like you. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy, but it's your fault, you shouldn't have left your flash drive in my car and never asked for it back! I'm an idiot who doesn't know what you can and can't do, and now you know I don't. Damn, does that expression even exist? It seems that everything I said is meaningless. It's your fault, not mine. You're the one distracting me... I have nothing to do with it at all! You're the one who came out of nowhere, turned my life upside down, and blew my mind. And this is worse than looking at the contents of some unfortunate flash drive. It's entirely your fault. What the hell am I talking about? Don't listen to me. Say something, don't let me embarrass myself any more... Forgive me."