Marie couldn't always look at the screen as she was driving. She had a lecture miles away from Mojinko, and being the independent woman she had always been, driving alone was never a burden.
"What happened?" Marie asked gently, keeping her eyes on the road. Her voice carried a quiet gravitas that made silence more unbearable than anger.
"I—" Jacques couldn't bear to look at the screen. His head tilted down in guilt for failing her trust.
"It's okay. Just tell me what happened," Marie asked again, even though she already knew. The reason she kept asking was because she wanted Jacques to explain himself—as a form of accountability for what he did.
"I'm sorry, Mother. I failed you," Jacques said.
"How did you fail me?" she pressed.
"Because—I let my anger control me, and I… I beat him up." Jacques looked guilty, especially because he had betrayed her trust. She had sent him to the Police Academy to become a better person—not a criminal at such a young age.
"Why were you angry? What made you so angry that you needed to beat him up?" Marie asked again. Once in a while, she glanced at Jacques and flashed a small smile to let him know that she wouldn't guilt-trip him. She just wanted him to take responsibility for his actions—at least at a minimum level—by admitting that what he did was wrong.
"Because—" Jacques stopped. What was he going to say now? That he was gay and that boy had taken his lover?
Oh, fuck it.
He had to say it. He wasn't a kid anymore. He did it, and he would admit it.
But damn, it was harder to say when the person you wanted to make proud was looking right at you.
"He provoked me. I feel like shit because of what he's doing," Jacques said, not feeling comfortable enough to tell Marie what had actually happened.
"How did he provoke you?"
"Mom, no… I can't tell you. I'm sorry." Jacques shook his head.
"Did he humiliate you? Did he hurt you?" Marie kept asking.
"Yeah… something like that," Jacques looked sideways. "Look, Mom, I'm not someone who would hurt people just to take their power or show how strong I am, okay?"
"It's okay if you can't tell me what happened," Marie replied, her tone calm but firm. "But you ended up in jail. I need to get you out of there if you're not guilty. But before that, I need to know the truth. What is this about? Because whatever you just told me… it could really depend on perspective."
Jacques felt tempted to tell Marie about his sexuality—but he stopped himself again. He remembered how Marie always talked about what kind of girl he might like so she could start looking for someone for him. She often talked about him getting married one day.
It would be hard for her to know he wasn't into women.
He planned to tell her one day—but not now.
"Looks like you need time to tell me about it," Marie gave him a warm, reassuring smile—an assurance that no matter what Jacques told her, she would not judge him.
But still, Jacques hesitated. He couldn't imagine how disappointed Marie would be once she knew the truth.
"Yeah, Mom… just give me time. I'll tell you one day," Jacques promised—not just saying it to escape the situation, but because he meant it.
"Have you eaten?" Marie asked casually.
"No, I haven't."
"Why? Was the food bad?"
"Yeah—corn soup with stale rice," Jacques side-glanced at the untouched food left on the floor near the door.
"Tell them you're a carnivore," Marie chuckled.
"They can't even cook corn soup right. They'll ruin my favorite steak," Jacques's smile crept onto his face.
"Bro, you're in jail. Remember that, okay? You don't have much choice," Marie teased, making Jacques chuckle.
"Now eat something so you can tell me about it one day. Because, Jacques… I really want to get you out of there. We might not be tied by blood, but I watched you grow. I'm the one who taught you how to think, how to depend on yourself. You mean so much to me—and it's not even funny. So, I'll wait for the day you tell me everything about you. No matter what, I promise that I'm here to help." Marie's voice softened as her words sank in.
"Yes, Mom," Jacques nodded.
"IF—" Marie emphasized the word sharply, "you really deserve it. You hear me?"
"Yes, Mom," Jacques agreed. It was fair enough, and suddenly he felt like he had made the right choice by not telling her about his sexuality.
"But even if you turn out to be a bad person…" Marie's face darkened with disappointment, "I'm going to do what's right. But here—" she pressed her hand to her chest, "you'll still be my dear son."
"I understand," Jacques replied.
"Alright. I'm driving now. We'll talk again later. Love you, son."
"Love you too, Mom."
The call ended, and the holographic screen disappeared.
The other holographic screens showing mukbang and cooking videos reappeared, surrounding Jacques with the clear intention of stimulating his appetite. Jacques looked at his corn soup… and took a bite.
"It worked!" Sigma shouted, his victorious laughter echoing through the lab.
"The connection between mother and son, even though it's not tied by blood, is apparently powerful—" Beatrix, the android, smiled as she continued her analysis and explanation of the phenomenon.
***
Nothing feels more bitter than having the roommate you always wanted—only to end up having him taken to the hospital for multiple surgeries and recovery. At least the unwanted one is gone now, locked away in prison.
"I swear, Jacques, I will never forgive you! Just when I was about to get the life I wanted… you took it away from me! I will carefully count every day I miss without Mourice—that's how long I'll make you suffer. You'll pay for it one day!" Charles grunted as he tidied up his belongings in his new dorm.
Then he realized something: he left behind his toothpaste in the old dorm. It still had plenty left to use, so it was better to pick it up than buy a new one.
He made sure to lock his new room first before walking all the way to the east wing where his old room was. When he got there, he was stunned to see the door open.
He proceeded carefully—maybe a new cadet had already occupied it. It bothered him because socializing wasn't his favorite thing.
"Okay, just make it brief. Say, 'Hello, excuse me, I need to get my toothpaste,' and then just take what you need. Avoid any conversation and walk away. I know small talk is shit, but I need to do this." Charles walked to the door and knocked.
"Excuse me—" He was surprised to see Instructor David inside his old room with another boy with eyeglasses and bronze wavy hair. Charles had only seen the boy once, but he never forgot—that was the boy who dated Jacques.
"Oh, here's Charles Baxter. He's Jacques's roommate—maybe he can tell you more about Jacques," Instructor David said, motioning for Charles to introduce himself.
Without hesitation, the boy walked forward and offered a handshake. "Hello, my name is Ethan Shaw. Nice to meet you, Charles Baxter."
Charles returned the handshake with hesitation. Now that he saw the boy up close, he could feel the energy radiating from him. He might have looked like a pretty boy who only cared about his looks and grooming—he even smelled good too—but there was something deeper there. There was strength behind his polished appearance. He wasn't someone Charles could look down on, because there was an undeniable brilliance that radiated from him.
Jacques surely knows how to pick a good boyfriend.
Charles wanted to act a little bold by calling him out—to show that he knew they were dating—but something in him made him instinctively feel the need to respect this boy.
"N-nice to meet you," Charles quickly pulled away his hand.
"He's here looking for Jacques because he went missing. I think you know the whole story, considering you were his roommate," Instructor David explained casually. Of course, Instructor David knew about the incident with Mourice, but for some reason, he couldn't speak much about it.
"Why me? We were just roommates—we didn't really have anything going on," Charles folded his arms, but his defensive tone let Ethan know that Charles knew far more than he was letting on.
"Imagine your best friend went missing, and you had no idea where he was or what happened to him. What would you do?" Instructor David raised his eyebrows, reminding Charles to be empathetic.
"I don't know. I never had a best friend. If you'll excuse me, I'm just here to grab my toothpaste." Charles entered the bathroom—but Ethan quickly seized the opportunity. He slipped into the bathroom behind Charles and winked at Instructor David.
"I'll take over from here," Ethan said smoothly.
Then Ethan closed the door and locked it, leaning back against it with his arms folded. A faint, confident smile played on his lips, and his eyes gleamed with a knowing look that said, I know you know more than you're letting on. He waited for Charles to speak—until he revealed everything.
"What do you want from me?" Charles sounded irritated. Even though he did push-ups daily, Ethan was bigger than him. He doubted he could overpower him.
"Just tell me what happened. I know he was caught by the police when he was in the dorm—fighting with someone, which was another cadet."
"I know nothing about that incident," Charles said, frustrated.
"That's not what he told me," Ethan teased, trying to poke at a hidden weak spot. "He said it was a setup—a very careful, strategic setup to put him behind bars."
Oh, so that's what Jacques told his boyfriend? He's talking shit about me and Mourice behind our backs, isn't he?! How rude! Well, Jacques, now I'm going to turn the tables on you.
Charles then proceeded, "Whatever Jacques said about me, he was lying. He was abusive and a jerk. Anyone in my position would've looked for another boy—someone more masculine and capable. He's just useless. The only thing he's good at is being a parasite."
"Is that why he's behind bars now?" Ethan asked, his facial expression shifting to one of shock—like he hadn't expected the truth about Jacques.
"Surprised, huh? Exactly how I felt too when I figured it out. He might appear capable, smart, dominant—but after you know him better, he's nothing but a dork. Just a weak-ass idiot who's too stupid to stop himself from being used," Charles confidently exposed himself.
"Hmm… I see now…" Ethan's expression shifted to one of disgust, as if he had just realized who Jacques truly was.
"So, a little advice for you—don't waste your time on that idiot. Find someone better, and you'll thank me later."
"It's difficult to let him go, I mean…"
Charles laughed. "I know. He'll cling to you, trying to prove how good he is and how he deserves to be kept—but all he's doing is showing how stupid and weak he is. He's not a real man."
"Is that why you called the cops?" Ethan asked.
Carried away, Charles exposed himself even more. "Best decision of my life."
Ethan couldn't hide his internal laughter anymore. His lips curled into a smile, his eyes watching Charles with quiet amusement—like he had just caught him in a lie.
And that's when Charles realized… a nursing student was apparently more of a detective than himself.