Flashes Of Light

Present Day

Sveta almost hopes Percie and Logar aren't going to comment on her argument with the presenter.

What would they say? 'Oh, I didn't know you have learnt how to read and write'?

Logar is looking at her that exact same way, so she has to tell herself that he'd been in prison for the last six years, and of course he has all the reasons to be pissed off at the rest of the Power of Sight.

"I did read your book," Percie only says. "Before, you've never spoken of the Dormitory much."

"I didn't think anyone would want to know," she replies, honest.

"And how was life at the orphanage? Was it any different?" Logar asks, like a little kid taking notes.

"Now you're pushing your luck," she bites back. However, after all those years, it's hard to stay mad at the others. Not when they're in the same room as you, and the three of you know you're all equally fucked up.

"No, pushing my luck was when I used to talk of my private matters in front of my friends, in public, and hope the paparazzi weren't going to take pictures," Logar declares. "Or write their silly little stories. Like the time they spied on a conversation where I said there was only one person I would have liked to make amends with. Someone who never saw me as I was -- which sounded ridiculous back then. What I was was a colossal cunt with yellow hair."

"Who were you talking about?" Percie asks. "The Anti?"

Logar becomes red before he even notices the others are teasing him. "I... no!! It's not my fault I could never get along with him."

"But you were a little immature," Sveta points out. "At least you admit that now."

"Is it about Jonath Cincinnati?" Percie tries his luck again.

"What? No! Jonath was my best mate," the reply is always very defensive. Logar looks down. "It was about my father."

Percie and Sveta keep their mouths closed. It's not like Logar's mother's death, they all know how his father died. It's a sad memory that they'd rather not think about again.

"I think your father was harsher to you than you realize," Sveta says quietly.

"Poor people are always harsh," Logar replies, an offended look upon his face.

"I should know," she tries to reason. "I had nothing!"

"Yes! You had nothing!" Logar stands up and exclaims. "And that's exactly the difference between me and you. You had nothing, and I'm sorry, but you don't know what it's like to have little. And to live in a household where everyone's always working to make sure that little becomes enough."

Sveta supposes Logar is right. However, the way he makes excuses for his dad reminds her of something. They do have something in common. People like him and people like her had to grow up too fast.