The Aberrations of S.I.D.E.

No. 18: Practice Makes Perfect

"Okay, let's try this again," Virgil said. "You've got it all worked out?"

Roman nodded.

"Right. Go."

He took a deep breath. "Mother, Father, I have something to tell you both. I'm gay, and I'm in love with Virgil. Yes, the Aberration I've been rooming with. No, he didn't turn me gay, I was always like this. In fact, I realized before you even sent me to the Academy, back when I was eleven."

Virgil gave him an encouraging smile. "Good so far."

"And I know you don't approve of that, but don't worry, you won't have to deal with it," Roman continued. "I'm moving out, and you can tell your bigshot friends whatever the hell you want. Tell them I'm dead or something---I don't care. Just know that you won't have to deal with me anymore, and I'm done being your golden son. Thank you." He looked up. "How was that?"

"I'd be less respectful," Virgil suggested. "They don't deserve it."

Roman gave him a look. "You try to be disrespectful to your parents after you've been Mr. Nice Guy your whole life."

Virgil shrugged. "Whenever I have arguments with my parents, I argue my point even though they're technically in charge. Just because I'm the kid doesn't mean I can't let my parents know that my side of the argument's valid and that they should pay attention to it. And it's worked occasionally." He paused. "Granted, they're right a little more than half of the time, but still."

"And that is the main difference between your experience and my experience," Roman said, pointing at him. "Your parents are great. I've seen you guys argue, but---for the love of God, Virgil, you tell each other 'I love you' about fifty times a day. You said it yourself, you never actually had to come out. You can afford to be a little snappish and rebellious with your parents sometimes. I can't. Never could. Remus only got away with it because my parents knew that he was always going to be the problem kid. I literally have no idea how to tell my parents 'no.'"

Virgil felt a twinge of guilt. Of course he had no idea how Roman interacted with his parents. Of course he couldn't actually relate.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "That was shitty of me to say."

"No, you're fine," Roman assured him, sitting down next to him. "I really do wish my parents were like yours."

"I know, I'm lucky." Virgil looked down at his feet. "Shouldn't be, though."

Roman gave him a worried look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my experience shouldn't be luck, it should be normal. You shouldn't have to deal with shitty parents. Everyone should have parents that actually respect who their kids are."

"Yeah." Roman bit his lip. "Can we practice again?"

Virgil rested his hand on Roman's arm. "First off, tell me about your parents. I need to get a sense of what we're dealing with here."

"You sure?"

"Yep."

"All right, then." Roman pulled out his phone and opened it up to a picture of a huge portrait hanging in a hall somewhere. It featured younger versions of the twins---maybe twelve or thirteen---sitting with two severe-looking people in their mid-to-late thirties. The man looked the most like the twins, feature-wise, but the woman had their curls and amber eyes.

"Xavier Sanchez and Francesca Sanchez, maiden name De Luca," Roman said. "My father's family may be a legacy one, but it's incredibly small right now---it's just him, his older brother, and my cousins Nina and Vanessa." He shrugged. "The Sanchez powers are considered weird at best and destructive at worst, so not a lot of people are willing to marry into the line."