He smiles at me. I smile back, only the left side of my mouth lifting up, cheek dimpling. The classic Fitzroy smile, the one I hate with every ounce of my being, and here I am, using it. I want to say something, anything, to warn him. But I know I can't. I know a lot of things, like the longest word you can make with only one row of the keyboard is 'typewriter', and that some cats are allergic to humans and that a chef's hat has exactly 100 pleats and that my parents are paying slave traders and that my family, the Fitzroys, have supported racism and homophobia for centuries... I know things. Some of the things I know could get me hurt in ways I can't imagine.
He takes my hand, strokes my cold fingers. I don't know how I can do this to him. I hurt, inside. I hurt so bad. This... this is all wrong. It goes against everything I ever stood for, every single thing. I hate them, I really do... but I don't know what else to do. Break them from the inside... that's the plan, right? It seemed so foolproof when we talked about it, together. But now? Now, I'm not so sure. I don't think I can break them if I go to these lengths to join them. And it's not just that. I... if I do this, he won't be around to help. To support me. He'll be gone, and where he's going, he won't be able to come back. I'll regret this, I know. But what else can be done?
They say that blood is thicker than water... and isn't that what matters? My family is my blood, and isn't Alfie just water? Is he? Nothing makes sense anymore, just like I never made sense to my mother. My name never made sense to me, so why am I trying to make it permanent? I know I can't beat them... there's too many that share their views, not enough powerful people are really good. I find that, more often than not, power is in the hands of the wrong people. It all comes down to money in the end, doesn't it? Money and fame, and apparently, nothing else matters. But I thought I could at least stop them, for a while, make it more difficult for them.
But, of course, I was wrong. I had spent five minutes with them and their thoughts and ways of living had made an impact on me. I've changed. That much is clear. If I am still me, I wouldn't be sitting here with a button in my hand. But then again... have I changed? Or is the real me just surfacing? Was this me all along, disguised by a web of lies? I realise, then, what the truth is. I can't change the injustices of the world. I know that. What's the point in even trying if I know I'm going to fail? Blood is thicker than water, and it's time I accept that."I'm sorry."I plant a kiss on his cheek; he's still staring after me as the ground beneath his feet gives way. I know what I am now. And he does too.
I am a Fitzroy.
