Chapter 45: "I Hate Henry Miller."

February 7, 7:30 PM. Château des Rêves, third floor of the main building, Alex and Kate’s room.
“Family dinner… I still can’t believe it,” Alex says, adjusting his white short-sleeved shirt and black shorts. He sits on the edge of the giant fold-out couch-bed unofficially known as the Sexodrome. “This is in the spirit of 1950s America, I guess. And it’s 2024 now. Are we really all going to play family here? This Ava is just a poetry history teacher at DreamArts, not a representative of the mayor or anything like that. No, I get that we’re kind of a family in some way, but not officially. We’re not even married. And Lila, Daria, Amy and the others aren’t our relatives.”
Kate stands in front of a large mirror at the other end of the room and adjusts her outfit—a black faux leather slit bodycon midi dress. She’s putting on earrings and looking at herself critically while Alex watches her from the Sexodrome. “Well, Baby Boy, it’s kind of sweet, isn’t it? But… yeah, a little kitschy, yeah, but also kind of… I don’t know… heartwarming?” She turns to him with a mischievous smile. “Besides, it’s not like we’re putting on a show for anyone. It’s just us and our friends.”
Alex giggles. “Nah, on the other hand it’s funny… It’s just that we don’t have any strict schedules or anything like that in the Château…” He thinks for a moment. “Well, except for the hired staff and Jocelyn’s people, the security. And there aren’t that many of them overall. They don’t even live here in their free time from work.” Alex stretches a little, glancing at his phone screen. “In any case I hope Amy knew what she was doing when she invited this Ava to be the crisis manager here. This is all my fault—none of this would have happened if I had worried less about this whole situation last Saturday called ‘Good morning Alex, now you’re a cuckold.’” He says the last words imitating Aria, then continues in a normal voice. “I think Ava specifically asked everyone for a family dinner so she could somehow psychologically scan us or something like that.”
Kate rolls her eyes at Alex’s dramatics, though there’s amusement in her smile as she turns from the mirror to face him. “Oh my god, Alex, my dramatic cat.” She moves closer, standing between his legs as he sits on the edge of the Sexodrome. Her hands rest on his shoulders. “It’s not like we’re putting on some big performance for this dinner. And honestly, I think it’s sweet that Amy wanted to make things feel more… I don’t know… settled around here. Ava’s just trying to help everyone adjust.”
Alex smiles and lets out a quiet chuckle. “Umm… ‘adjust’? We’ve been in a relationship for four years. We’ve never even had a single fight. And I’m not against your… um… ‘boundary explorations’ with Brian. And then you and Lila pushed me toward Sarah, so now we’re all happy polyamorous people here… I think Amy overdid it. I think she invited Ava for herself in some way. Probably Amy got a little tired of being the formal house manager.”
Kate’s face brightens with a mischievous grin. “Oh, my little literalist,” she teases, giving his shoulders a playful squeeze. “I didn’t say it was bad. I think it’s sweet. And you’re sweet too, even if you are a little obsessed with categorizing everything.” She leans down, pressing her face near his. “You don’t have to categorize everything, Alex. Sometimes things just… are. You’re worried about this dinner because it’s new. That’s all. But it’s not like we’re suddenly going to have to pretend to be something we’re not.” She straightens up, still keeping her hands on him. “This is us. All of us. Living together, exploring things… It’s beautiful in its own way.”
Alex giggles. “Oh… I know what you’re doing right now… Goddess, don’t worry—I’m not having a panic attack.” He makes a vague gesture in the air. “It’s not even close. Besides, there won’t be many people at the dinner and they’re all our own. Well, except Ava. The only strange thing is that they didn’t invite Aria and Brian. Well, Brian is apparently at some concert right now, and Aria…” He thinks for a moment. “Apparently Ava wants to look at the ‘main cast’ for now. Well, until you kick me out to the guest house next week. And in early March Dana will send me into exile in Cambria because of this fucking Erodreamarts… The way the board of directors of Sogni Nudi is afraid of exposing male authors—this is just some kind of fucked up shit…”
Kate’s expression softens. She moves closer again, one hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “Hey,” she murmurs. “You’re not being kicked out. It’s not exile. It’s just… logistics.”
She hesitates. “I told you before—this is happening because I want it to happen. Because I love having you here. And because I want to do something special for Brian while you’re gone.”
Her thumb brushes lightly against his cheekbone as she holds his gaze. “This doesn’t change anything between us, Baby Boy. You know that, right?”
Alex is silent for a few seconds, looking into Kate’s blue eyes with his green ones. After a moment he says, “Yes. I know that. And don’t worry—there won’t be any problems with me. I won’t even try to spit out sarcasm. And in general I’ll talk less.”
Kate’s face brightens with a playful smile as she watches him. She doesn’t pull away, her thumb still resting lightly on his cheek. “Oh? No sarcasm?” she asks, voice teasing. “That would be very suspicious, Baby Boy. You’re not getting sick, are you?”
Alex gets up from the Sexodrome and now they are standing, looking at each other. Their height is almost the same—5′ 5″ for Kate and 5′ 7″ for Alex—which doesn’t stop their gazes from being on the same level.
“No, everything is more than fine. I just don’t want to put you in an awkward position in front of Ava. After all, essentially all the attention will be on you.” He pauses. “And yeah, on that topic… I talked with Lila today while we were working on the book. We discussed the situation and… I thought—maybe I should pay an unexpected visit to Aria tomorrow? For some reason it seems to me that she’s offended at me about something.” He hesitates a little. “You know… like checking the strength of the bridges. Especially when you and Brian will be together these months during Erodreamarts… The last time I talked to her was last Saturday—well, when Lila then kicked her out of my office… The conversation was tense.”
Kate tilts her head slightly, studying Alex’s face as he speaks. She steps closer, sliding her arms around his waist and resting her forehead against his. “You don’t need to prove anything to Aria,” she murmurs. “Or to anyone else. But if you want to talk to her… I’m not going to stop you.” She leans back, still looking into his eyes. “You’re always welcome to visit her mansion. And I know she misses you too. She just doesn’t show it very well sometimes.”
Alex smiles. “Well… yeah. True. It’s just… I don’t know, I just think that I complicated everything myself. It’s just that on Saturday it was unexpected. I don’t mean the fact that you were talking with Aria’s guy at parties all these last months while I was hiding in the office afraid of a relapse of panic attacks—you talk with many people at parties, but…” He pauses. “Well, that you and Brian decided, on Aria’s suggestion, to make your social conversations more horizontal… And this after four years of our ‘exclusivity’.”
Kate’s arms tighten around his waist, her fingers pressing lightly against his back. She watches him with an understanding, thoughtful expression. “I know,” she says softly. “It’s a lot. And I’m sorry if it feels like I sprung it on you. But… that’s kind of the nature of this, isn’t it?”
Alex giggles, pressing against Kate. “No. I’m the one who needs to apologize for bringing up a topic that we’ve already discussed hundreds of times these days. I wasn’t in any relationships at all before you. I mean my life a few years ago changed drastically: I started working for Dana and immediately became the best author of Sogni Nudi, and a bunch of people don’t even know who’s behind the pseudonyms of all these smut masterpieces. Then this mansion from the same Dana, all this ‘Nepo-HR’, the party culture of Dreamside, my improved English and the disappeared panic attacks… But mainly it’s you. I think it was always you. Honestly I don’t even perceive my life before you. As if it was something else. Something less pleasant that I don’t want to remember.”
Kate’s arms tighten around him. A soft smile forms on her face, but her eyes stay thoughtful and attentive. “I know,” she murmurs. “And I love that you feel that way. That you can say that. And I also love how much you’ve changed, Baby Boy. How much you’ve grown. You’ve done so much with your writing, with yourself. And you’ve never stopped being you. That’s what I love.”
Alex giggles. “You’re a real Goddess. Now I feel really ashamed about a story I wrote recently… Not for publication, just for myself. It’s the absolute peak of Kate cringe. You’ll like it… probably.”
Kate exclaims theatrically. “Oh, I can already feel this is going to be some next-level fucked-up shit. This is fucking awesome. Spill it.”
Alex continues. “So basically it’s a slightly alternative world and we live in a regular house in another city. In the plot I get kidnapped and turned into a human toilet. Like, an advanced toilet—from the outside it looks like a normal toilet, but inside it’s me, all reworked. I only have hearing and a view from the toilet bowl drain—can’t move or speak. I spent several pages describing the whole setup in detail—it turned into some hardcore sci-fi biohorror. Anyway… When they found me, you of course grieved for a while, but Brian comforted you. In the end you and Brian started living together in our house, and also pissing and shitting in me so I wouldn’t die of hunger and thirst. Something like that. I was pretty upset about the whole situation, so the story came out pretty dark. Hope you’re not mad.”
Kate throws her head back with a loud, genuine laugh, her arms still wrapped around Alex’s waist. “Oh my god,” she gasps between chuckles, shaking her head. “You are such a fucking weirdo.”
She looks up at him with bright eyes and a smirk that suggests equal parts amusement and fascination. “A human toilet? That is some next-level fucked-up shit right there.”
Alex lets out a breath of relief. “Phew… So basically I was just stressing about the whole situation with Brian and your ‘boundary expansion,’ plus Lila kept talking absolute nonsense about it, which made me fight with her, but then she and I made up five minutes later… So I sublimated all of that into this story. It turned out pretty long—like a hundred pages or so… In the story they offered to kill me, but you cried really hard and couldn’t do it. So you and Brian started relieving yourselves in me. You pooped in me and talked to me through your tears. When I wrote that, I felt like shit because you were suffering. Well, not you—the fictional version of you from the story. Goddamn it, forgive me, Kate. I won’t write anything like that with you in the lead role again. Only black dicks. No human toilets.”
Kate’s laughter subsides into a giggle as she shakes her head. “You’re just fucking crazy, Baby Boy,” she murmurs, pressing her forehead against Alex’s again. “But that’s okay. That’s… exactly who you are, and I wouldn’t change that.”
She pulls back just enough to meet his gaze, a playful glint in her eyes. “So tell me… In your story, how long did it take before I started enjoying it?”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Damn… Some crazy scientist who hates men turned me into a toilet, and you’re asking about when you started enjoying pooping in me? You sometimes act just like the heroines from those horror movies you starred in.”
Kate grins, her face bright with amusement. She tugs playfully at the front of Alex’s shirt. “Hey, I’m just curious! And besides, I think I’d get used to it fairly quickly. You’re comfortable, hygienic, and you don’t judge. What more could a woman want in a… uh… receptacle?”
Alex sighs. “Well, I wrote this story in AI Dungeon, and the AI was roleplaying as you… So basically at first you were on a vegan diet so it would be easier for me or something, but then you stopped… After about a couple of months or so. You still said hi and bye, but overall you paid less and less attention. In the end you completely switched over to Brian and forgot about me because I had become a toilet.” He falls silent for a moment, looking a bit down. “Yeah… something like that.”
Kate watches him closely, still smirking but with a more thoughtful expression now. She traces her fingers along the edge of Alex’s face, touching a strand of his short dark brown hair. “That’s… actually kind of sweet,” she murmurs. “You put so much effort into imagining how I would handle that situation. Even in your darkest fantasies.”
She moves closer, pressing her body against his more firmly. “And you know what?” Her breath is warm against his cheek. “I don’t think you’d ever actually forget about me completely. Not even if I was pooping in you every day.” She whispers it with playful intent, nuzzling his face.
Alex sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. “A horrible story. Brian also constantly mocked me about how he was fucking you while people only shit in me. Even though earlier in the plot he had been our mutual friend. And then you and Brian left for good. You got married, had kids, and lived somewhere else. I stayed behind in that old house as a toilet. Later some elderly couple who moved in started pooping in me. Then a pair of lesbians. Many years later you came to visit me and… just stood there looking. I couldn’t say anything—I was a toilet, after all. But I had dreams about you. Though I gradually forgot your name and went crazy. At some point I got used to the idea that I had always been a toilet and that Alex had never existed. I dreamed of meeting the TV—because it could talk, unlike me. But I couldn’t move, so I could never reach it.”
Kate lets out a slow breath, her face softening into something between amusement and sympathy. She leans back just enough to study Alex’s face. “Jesus Christ, Baby Boy,” she murmurs. “That’s… really fucked up.”
For the first time in a couple of years Alex feels it—a strange mix of heartburn, heat, weakness in his legs, and some other weird set of emotions. This used to happen at the start of his panic attacks. He rubs his face.
“Ah, forget it… It’s just… Basically dumb body horror and nonsense. My brain generates ideas 24/7, even when I’m asleep, and not all of them are fucking great, especially when it comes to monetization… Just… I wouldn’t want anything like that in real life… In a figurative sense.”
Kate’s arms tighten around him. Her expression changes as she finally understands what the story was really about. She no longer treats it as a joke.
“Hey… I get it,” she says quietly. “It wasn’t really about the toilet. It was about this situation with Brian. About Brian becoming the person beside me while you slowly stopped being a person at all. No voice, no body, no choices… eventually not even remembering who you were.”
She gently cups his face.
“And that’s why the ending got to you, isn’t it?”
She gives him a small, understanding smile.
“You took everything you were afraid of and turned it into the most fucked-up metaphor imaginable.”
Alex sighs and relaxes. “Well, I wrote this back on Sunday, two days ago. Still before the first lesson with Sarah and before meeting Brian. The next day after Aria’s announcement about the whole situation.” He smiles. “I feel better now. It’s just… I need this. I mean, inventing all sorts of cringe and telling it to you. I’ll definitely adapt to the Dreamside vibe. It’s just that I’m still pretty culturally constrained, since before the US I spent a long time living in one shitty country in the eastern hemisphere. Seems like there’s a snowy post-apocalypse going on there now—shit everywhere, wild dogs, and drones blowing up their oil depots. But they keep fighting the West on the internet.”
Alex thinks for a moment. “That FSB guy has probably already been blown up in a car, thank God… Not that I give a fuck.”
He hugs Kate tighter and they melt into a long kiss. After that Alex looks into her eyes. “I think we should head to dinner soon. It’s probably almost 8 PM already.”
Kate nods. “Yeah, you’re right,” she murmurs. “We should go. Amy’s probably wondering where we are.”
February 7, 8:05 PM. Château des Rêves, first floor of the main building, the western Salle des Fêtes.
Sitting around the long rectangular table are Alex, Kate, Amy, Madi, Lila, Daria, Anastasia, and Ava.
Alex—the erotic writer and top-performing author of Sogni Nudi publishing house, hiding behind various pen names—is dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt and black shorts. He sits to Kate’s right, silently observing the situation, though it’s obvious he feels a little awkward. Over four years at the Château, no tradition of communal meals had ever formed. Panic attack risks for Alex, the enormous permanent population of the estate (around 500 people), and the constant busyness of this huge artistic commune had all gotten in the way: someone was always off on a film set, on tour, or deep in creative struggles. Besides, creating such traditions had never really been in the spirit of neo-hippies—people usually come to Dreamside precisely to escape that sort of thing.
Kate herself, seated at the head of the table, looks striking in her black faux-leather slit bodycon midi dress. The actress, artist, golfer, model, and Alex’s primary source of inspiration looks stunning. Ava, sitting opposite her at the far end of the table, scans Kate through her fake big nerdy glasses with black frames. Ava herself is wearing a white closed-neck top and a medium-length black skirt. Along the sides of the table sit the others: Amy in an expensive purple T-shirt and gray shorts, Madi in a black top and short red skirt, Lila in a sexy pink sequin cocktail dress, Daria in a yellow T-shirt and white shorts, and Anastasia in an unbuttoned white shirt, a pink leather bra, and blue denim pants.
The table is long but not overly large, creating a more family-like atmosphere than one might initially expect. It is laid with a generous amount of food and drinks—mostly low-alcohol or completely non-alcoholic. The hall, originally built in something close to Versailles style, has become significantly more modern and art-pop under its new owners, Alex and Kate, over the past four years. In general the Salle des Fêtes is mostly used as one of the party spaces, so the interior is never permanent.
Kae Asano, the butler and OnlyFans star, dressed only in a leather, metal-styled bra and thong, sets a bottle of kombucha next to Alex. “Here, Kate—specially for your kid.” She glances at Ava. “Is this some kind of college tradition of yours? Usually psychologists interview everyone one by one in an office so they can compare all the different versions of the lies. I’ve seen it in movies. Dinner is pretty unusual. If you start speaking French next, you’ll turn into those stereotypical white people from black comedies.” Kate chuckles at Kae’s quip, leaning back in her chair as she reaches for her glass of non-alcoholic champagne. “Oh Kae, you’re such a card. Maybe Ava just wanted to get a more… organic feel for things. You know, see how we interact when we’re just hanging out.”
Ava nods, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose with a faint smile. “Exactly. Observational psychology can be just as valuable as formal interviews. Plus,” she glances around the table, “I think this is the best way for me, as a crisis manager, to get to know you all better.” Amy smiles. “I’m really glad you agreed to help us maintain a healthy atmosphere in our community against the backdrop of…” She shoots a quick glance at Kate. “…various kinds of ‘boundary expansions’ and other experiments.”
Kae smirks. “Yeah, cuckperiments, I’d say. Alright then, if anything—text me. Preferably with emojis.” With that, she walks away. Kate giggles. “Oh, Kae always says what’s on her mind. You’ll get used to it.”
“Unlikely,” Ava replies. “But I appreciate the directness.” Daria frowns slightly and turns to Ava. “Hmm… so you teach poetry history at DreamArts? But you’re also a psychologist by education?” Ava nods, adjusting her glasses as she sips her drink. “Yes, I’m a bit of a hybrid. I started in literature because I love language and the way poetry forces people to confront raw emotion. But my degrees in education and psychology have given me a perspective on how we process and express those emotions.” She looks around the table with clear analytical focus. “Well, it’s a fascinating dynamic. You all have such complex relationships—professional, creative, personal. It’s like a masterclass in modern interpersonal connection.” Daria snorts. “That’s one way of putting it.”
Ava stabs a piece of chicken with her fork, looking at Alex with a knowing smirk. “So, Mr. Gonshorowski… I suppose I can call you Alex? How does it feel to be in the same room as all these… new dynamics?” Alex sighs lightly, pouring himself some kombucha into a glass. “Yes, just Alex, no last name. And umm… Well, overall it’s fine. I’m not a native Dreamsider and I’ve never counted myself among the neo-hippies… I wasn’t even born in the US. I’m from another rather wild country that I don’t like to talk about extra. So this whole topic of polyamory and Californian morals is still a bit new, even after years of living here. But overall I don’t see anything catastrophic here regarding the current situation.” He throws a quick and slightly displeased look at Amy, then continues, looking at Ava. “Overall not bad.” Ava’s eyes flicker with interest as she leans forward. “That’s an interesting perspective, Alex. How do you personally define ‘not bad’ in this context? Because I’ve heard that you’re… adjusting to a new reality rather than thriving in it.” At that moment Lila intervenes in the conversation, saving Alex. “Oh, come on, enough about rich male writers! So, Amy.” She looks at the 29-year-old house manager, Lila’s eyes sparkling playfully. “I think Ava as a crisis manager needs to know a broader context. For example, you’re a thriving blogger, ASMRtist, successfully collaborating with a number of advertising brands… However, it’s hard to say that everything is good in your personal life.” She leans back a little, quickly and lightly adjusting her long dark hair. “We’ve been living under the same roof for four years already, practically like a family. We worry about you, Amy.” Amy raises her chin slightly. “I don’t see how my personal life is relevant here,” she says with a forced smile. She looks at Kate, who shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s not like I’m asking you to psychoanalyze me at the dinner.” But Lila isn’t deterred. “No… hold on.” She leans forward a little. “Yesterday morning you called me and we discussed the situation in this house. You asked me to find a crisis manager. Here she is.” Lila points at Ava. “Yesterday evening you conducted an interview with her and now here we all are sitting at dinner so that Ava can assess the overall situation. So maybe we won’t reduce everything to Alex and Kate? With all due respect, our Château is more than Alex and Kate with some sexual experiments. I just feel that right now the entire conversation is going to boil down only to discussing the personal life of Alex and Kate.”
At that moment Anastasia intervenes in the conversation. “Oh, god… listen. I’m not even aware of all the details, but in my opinion there’s too much unnecessary fuss here.” Kate’s personal trainer and choreographer adjusts the strap of her pink leather bra. “Personally I prefer lighter conversations at dinner.” Alex, sensing the shift in focus away from his personal situation, relaxes slightly in his chair. He sips his kombucha and watches the conversation. Lila maintains her focus on Amy, while Daria chuckles softly at Anastasia’s comment.
Ava clears her throat. “Well,” she says, “it seems we’ve touched on a sensitive topic. I wasn’t trying to single anyone out, but there’s a great deal of emotional investment in this house. That kind of energy isn’t inherently bad, but it does require careful management.” She looks around the table, meeting each person’s eyes in turn. Her gaze rests on Anastasia. She studies Anastasia’s slim body, long chestnut hair, and tight clothing. “You seem like the type who’s more focused on physicality than emotional entanglements,” she observes. “How do you see this evolving situation?”
Anastasia giggles, revealing her light Ukrainian accent. “How do I assess the situation? I don’t. I’m just a choreographer and trainer here. I mainly train Kate, but others come to me too. I’m a professional dancer and model. My business is more erotic and less… umm…” She thinks. “Porn-oriented, unlike Kae. I love rollerblading, taking selfies, and posting photos on Instagram. Lately I’ve been organizing naked yoga courses. I love hanging out with friends. I have a cool black boyfriend with a big black dick. Any more questions?”
Ava’s lips quirk at Anastasia’s answer. “No,” she says, “that’s quite enough for now.” She shifts her attention to Daria.
Daria, who had been quietly sipping her drink and observing the conversation with detached amusement, lifts her gaze to meet Ava’s. Her face remains impassive, her tone dry and measured. “I work here as Kate’s personal assistant. To be more precise, I used to be just a caddie, but now I’m also a personal assistant. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I don’t care much about what other people do in bed. My primary concern is organizing Kate’s schedule and making sure everything runs smoothly.”
Lila giggles. “Oh, Daria is very modest, but she’s a wonder. Amy has lately been calling her little Russian sphinx—and there’s something to that. Our Miss Shirova was a bartender in some hotel in Los Angeles, but now this kitten lives with us. Everyone adores her—even Alex, but he’ll never admit it publicly.”
Daria’s lips twitch at the nickname, but she doesn’t comment. She focuses on her food, cutting into her meal with precise motions. Alex looks silently at Daria. He tries to look indifferent, but it’s obvious he wants to say something to her—and would, if they were alone. Alex and Daria almost never talk, but his sympathy toward her has always been obvious.
Madi cuts in, trying to close off personal topics. “Oh, come on, guys.” She sets down her fork with a sigh. “Let’s not psychoanalyze each other at the dinner table. I’m just here to enjoy the food and hang out with friends. Doctor Madi doesn’t like complicated discussions outside her work.” She rolls her shoulders and grins. “I work at Health&Cozy as a physician. I spend my days listening to patients, prescribing medications, and offering advice. If Ava wants in-depth psychoanalysis, she’ll have plenty of opportunities after dinner.”
Ava’s lips curve. “Of course,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. “I wasn’t planning a full session at the table. I simply wanted a sense of the dynamics between you all.”
The dinner continues without raising personal topics.
After dinner, Amy’s room.
There are three people in the room: Amy, Madi and Alex.
“Fuck, Amy… I suspected something was off here, but this was too much. Who did Lila slip you? Lila is a fucking trickster around here, you understand that. First she ‘organized a relationship’ between Alex and Sarah, now on your request to find some ‘crisis manager’ she slipped you a fucked-in-the-head teacher from DreamArts who arranges psychological analyses at dinners. Couldn’t you discuss everything with me first?” Madi stands with her hands on her hips while Amy sits on the bed with a slightly guilty expression on her face.
“I don’t think Lila is a trickster.” Alex closes the door after checking that no one in the hallway could overhear. He sits down on a chair by the wall. “She’s my friend and creative ally. It’s just… she has some of her own inventions on this matter. But precisely because of her thinking I’ve had an excellent creative tandem with her all these years. And she saved me from grammatical errors in the texts!” Alex laughs. “But yeah in general. That was fucking shit. I really didn’t like her assertiveness and tone. You know, in the fucking USSR there was this shit: when they put the ‘wrong’ guy in front of an audience and started washing him for jerking off to Lenin the wrong way. Of course I didn’t catch that because of my age, but I heard about that kind of fucked up.” Alex snorts. “At this dinner it almost came to something like that: ‘So, Mr. Gonshorowski, how do you see yourself in this new dynamic of interracial cuckoldry? How much does this correspond to the values of this community?’ We probably should have gathered all 500 people from the entire Chateau so that a panic attack would definitely hit me.” He sighs. “Girls, I’m not made of porcelain. I’ve already discussed the whole situation with Kate hundreds of times. She’s not going to leave me because of Brian, and I’m not going to cut my veins because a huge black dick is taking my girl away from me. Can we slow down in general?”
Amy exhales and shakes her head. “Alex, I didn’t mean it that way. I just wanted to help. You know how I worry about things sometimes. And yeah, I thought Ava could help with the whole situation—Brian moving in, Kate’s ‘expansion of borders,’ etc. I didn’t think it would be a therapy session at this evening dinner.”
Madi sits down beside Amy and pats her leg. “You’re too nice, Amy. That’s always been your problem. You don’t have to fix everything for everyone.”
Alex giggles. “Well, that’s Lila’s fault—after all, she slipped you this candidate. Of course it’s good that she saved me from having to explain myself to Ava at this dinner, but she didn’t have to jump on you. Sometimes she acts impulsively, I suppose. Anyway, we’ll get through this. I just won’t answer any of Ava’s questions without others present.” He moves onto the bed and hugs Amy. “You’ll always be my mom, just like Madi. And I don’t care that you and I are the same age, and Madi is only 26.”
Amy and Madi laugh. Madi shakes her head, still smiling. “Oh, Alex, you’re such a sap sometimes. But it’s cute.” She pats his shoulder. “You know, if it weren’t for all this… I mean, Brian moving in, Kate ‘exploring’… things would have been simpler. But it did. And now we’re all here, dealing with it. Together.” She looks between Alex and Amy. “You two are my favorite family members.”
Amy nudges Alex with her elbow. “See? Madi gets it. She understands you don’t need to be saved.” She sighs, some of the guilt leaving her face. “I just want everyone to be happy. And not just happy—thriving.”
Alex speaks slowly, eyes closed, still hugging Amy. “By the way, Lila is still shipping you both. In general you would really be awesome moms.”
Amy groans, shaking her head. “Alex, I’m already too much of a mom as it is. You don’t need to—“
Madi interrupts with a laugh. “Oh, stop. He’s just saying what he thinks.” She rests her head on Amy’s shoulder. “And he’s right. You are a great mom.”
Alex leans closer between them, resting his head on Amy’s other shoulder. “Well, I’m grateful for it.” He sighs, eyes still closed. “It’s been… complicated lately. But you two have always been steady. Even when everything else is changing, you’re here.”
Amy wraps her arm around Alex’s shoulders, pulling him into a half-hug. Alex whispers. “Sometimes I feel like I’m about 6 years old, not 29. Probably it’s all because of the peculiarities of my immigration. The move to the USA, breaking away from the language I hated and the final switch to English, all those checks from Dana when Charlie presented me to her… If it weren’t for Kate and you two, I definitely wouldn’t have made it.” He pauses and continues without opening his eyes. “Well, and Lila too. Although Lila is peculiar. She constantly beats me in our sparring matches on the grass. She’s not a model, she’s a fucking karateka. It pisses me off.”
Madi snorts, squeezing Amy’s arm. “Oh, poor Alex. Beaten by a girl.”
Amy smirks and ruffles Alex’s hair. “She’s really good, though. I’ve seen her train. You should take it seriously.”
Alex speaks slowly, still without opening his eyes. “Not just a girl, but a sexy girl. And also a model. And my assistant. ‘Take it seriously’? What if she hits me in the balls? Then you, Madi, would have to deal not with my panic attacks, but with my damaged balls… So fuck that. Besides, during every joint work session on the books with her she puts on a new bra and panties. Thanks to which my balls fill with inspiration. It’s wonderful. So I think we can let her stay the champion of the grass.”
Amy snorts and squeezes Alex’s shoulder. “Oh, poor Alex. All those struggles. The beautiful model who beats you in karate… The constant inspiration from her lingerie… It must be terrible for you.”
Madi giggles and nudges Amy. “I think he’s doing just fine with it. He’s always smiling when she walks by. Like a cat watching a bird.”
Then Madi speaks in a deliberately medical tone. “The main thing is that our boy takes care of the hygiene of his foreskin because of his frequent jerking off. We’ll have to talk to Kate about this. Otherwise we’ll have to think about his circumcision.”
Alex’s head is still resting on Amy’s shoulder, but he immediately exclaims in a theatrical tone, eyes still closed. “No circumcision! Besides showering twice a day I also wash my little pee-pee several more times separately!” Then he adds quieter and more serious. “Seriously, no. Please.”
Amy and Madi exchange amused glances as Alex’s panic over the hypothetical circumcision subsides. Amy squeezes his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Just making sure we’re paying attention to your health.”
Madi chuckles. “Although, honestly? I think Kate should be the one keeping tabs on that. She’s the one who gets to see it daily.”
Alex sighs. He changes position and lies down on the bed, placing his head on Amy’s lap. “Well… Starting next week and for the next few months she definitely won’t be seeing my dick. From the beginning of March this fucking Erodreamarts starts and Dana with the board of directors of Sogni Nudi wants to hide me in Cambria from the crowd of accredited journalists who will appear here… And starting next week Brian is moving in here and Kate is sending me to the guest house.”
He thinks. “Maybe I should move in with Sarah, since she’s now my girlfriend too? I somehow don’t really want to sit in some guest house like a cuckold from a French comedy. On the other hand, I’m afraid that if I bring up this topic in a conversation with Sarah, it will look like I’m imposing myself.”
Amy strokes Alex’s hair, speaking gently but with an amused glint. “Oh, you poor thing. Having to choose between being a cuckold in the guest house or a boyfriend in Sarah’s house. What a hard life you lead.” She chuckles as she continues rubbing his scalp.
Madi leans against the bedpost, arms crossed. “Well, I think you’re overthinking this, sweetheart. Sarah will probably love having you there—she’s clearly into you. I don’t think Kate would mind.” She wiggles her fingers in a teasing gesture. “She’s already got Brian coming here, after all.”
Alex turns his head on Amy’s lap and looks up at her. “Well, yes, Amy, I understand your sarcasm. Compared to the lives of billions of other people I might have paradise here. But the point is that I’m here, and not in some conditional India and… well, you understand.” He yawns, covering his mouth. “And in general Lila oriented herself very quickly. As soon as Kate got interested in ‘chocolate,’ she quickly set up her bestie with me. That’s straight-up Aria level.”
Amy smiles down at Alex as she runs her fingers through his hair. “Oh, don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying it. You have two gorgeous girls interested in you—Kate and Sarah. And Lila? She’s just having fun.”
Madi shifts on the bed, lying on her stomach and stretching toward Alex. Like Amy, she runs her fingers through his short dark brown hair. “Seriously, Alex. You’re being pampered. You have Kate, who adores you. You have Sarah, who’s clearly smitten. And you have us, after all. And Lila.”
Alex giggles. “Ok. Whatever you say, doc.” He sighs and closes his eyes. “Oh, you two are doing that again. Too many fingers in my hair. This is fucking amazing, but from the outside you two probably look like two adult monkeys searching for lice on a baby monkey. Two sexy drop-dead gorgeous monkeys, to be more precise.”
Amy chuckles. “Oh well. It’s our job to keep you happy and healthy, our cute little boy.” She exchanges a sly glance with Madi. “Even if that means indulging in a little grooming.”
Then Amy and Madi start singing a children’s song about getting rid of lice together.
”Pick, pick, check the hair,
Looking for a bug in there!
Scratch, scratch, little head,
Time to clean before your bed!
No more lice and no more flea,
Cleanest boy you’ll ever be!
One for Amy, one for Madi,
*Look at our dramatic kiddy!”
Alex moans. “Oh, that song of yours… Again… I’m burning with embarrassment again!”
“Shhh,” Amy hushes, stroking his hair with one hand while the other rests on his shoulder. “You’re in our care now, little one. Just relax.”
Madi giggles. “Oh, sweetheart… It’s a scientific fact that singing calms the nervous system. And besides,” she adds, leaning closer, “your sexy monkey moms know what’s best for you!”
Alex lets out a mix of a moan and a giggle. “I didn’t know you both remembered everything from that time… I had already forgotten about it myself, damn… I’m just afraid that someone will hear this—and then the nickname Short Tale from Becky will probably be the least of my problems!”
Amy and Madi exchange amused glances and laugh together. Amy’s fingers keep massaging Alex’s hair. “Oh, don’t worry, kiddy,” she murmurs. “We’re in my room, and nobody can hear you.”
Madi props her head on one hand and studies Alex with a playful smirk. “Besides, I think you’re underestimating how much we enjoy this. You’re so cute when you’re trying to be embarrassed.” She wiggles her fingers again. “It reminds me of our first medical exams.”
Alex giggles. “Oh, I remember my first full exam with you, Madi! It was an examination of literally everything.” He keeps his tone deliberately neutral. “Especially that innocent ‘It’s win, winky-winky’ of yours after the thorough exam of my dick. From those words it started getting hard. That was 4 years ago—I had just entered into a relationship with Kate, started settling into this Chateau, you were only doing your internship at Health&Cozy and we barely knew each other. I thought I would sink into the ground. You didn’t comment on it in any way, but the next day you cheerfully and casually greeted me in the office with the words ‘Hi, sweetheart… and little hard.’ You’re a smut-monster under the image of a smiling, innocently attractive physician… and therapist, when it comes to the history of treating my panic attacks.”
Madi lets out a sharp, delighted cackle and leans in. “Guilty as charged. But let’s be honest, Alex, the ‘smut-monster’ only comes out when the patient is as responsive as you were. Your physiological reaction was… clinically fascinating. And highly endearing.”
Amy laughs softly. “See? This is why we love you. You’re the only one in this house who can call Madi a smut-monster to her face and get a reward for it.” She looks down at him with a maternal tenderness that borders on possessive. “You’ve grown so much since those first exams. From a shaking leaf to…”
Alex moans and giggles at the same time. “Oh no… please not those vulgar formulations. That’s just awful. Just like those books Madi reads. You know, the ones with no plot and nothing but brothers having sex with sisters and great-nephews… Yeah, sexy blondes from the Midwest pretty much read that stuff. I think AI has only made more of it—they generate nonsense with no editing and dump it straight on the masses. Whatever. Screw them. No matter what they write, nothing will be worse than Henry Miller. My experience with his work can be described as ‘an experience I wish I’d never had.’”
Alex hates Henry Miller—and everyone close to him knows it. His hatred for this writer exists on a purely worldview level. That’s why Madi and Amy always try to change the subject whenever Alex remembers him.
So Madi and Amy change the subject at once, without sarcasm. Amy’s hand pauses for a fraction of a second, a silent signal to Madi. They both know the “Miller Trigger.” When Alex starts spiraling into literary hatred, the vibe shifts from pampered kitten to academic exorcism, and that is a mood-killer.
“Oh, by the way…” Madi interjects smoothly, her voice regaining that honeyed, clinical warmth. She shifts her weight, her hip pressing slightly against Alex’s side. “Let’s talk about Sarah.”
Alex giggles. “Oh… these are the strangest relationships. I know her, you know her… all four years. Sometimes she comes to our parties… including the more private ‘semi-parties’ where I show up. She says she’s always liked me. She’s Lila’s best friend. And she’s part of Lila’s project to save me if Kate dumps me—that’s how Lila herself explains the situation. Though I think Lila started this whole thing just to find a guy for her bestie.” He sighs. “I mean… well, I like her. It’s strange, because I’m generally far from polyamory and for all four years I only loved Kate… But then this whole situation with Aria and Brian… And yes, Madi, you’re right—I think I should talk to Kate and Sarah about moving in with Sarah. That would be better than the guest house. And less humiliating, sort of.”
Amy’s fingers resume their rhythmic stroking, though her expression shifts into something akin to a playful judge presiding over a very chaotic court. “Humiliating? Alex, darling, you’re acting like the guest house is a dungeon in a Gothic novel. It’s a luxury cottage with a mini-fridge. But,” she pauses, leaning in, “moving in with the ‘Safety Net’ Sarah? Now that is a plot twist. It’s very ‘tragic protagonist seeking refuge in the arms of the childhood friend.’”
Madi lets out a soft, humming laugh, her hip still anchored against him. The medical professional in her is analyzing his stress levels, but the mischievous side of her is enjoying the soap opera. “A safety net that comes with English grammar lessons and a ten-thousand-dollar wire transfer. You’re not just seeking refuge, you’re sponsoring the rescue mission.”
Alex lifts his head off Amy’s lap and sits up on the bed. He looks at the girls and rolls his eyes with a laugh. “Daaaamn… Are you all going to mock me for those $10,000 I gave Sarah? Come on, she said they had some kind of funding problem with the new art program and I gave it to them. What’s the big deal? Everyone in Dreamside donates money to education and medicine.”
Madi shifts her position on the bed so that Alex ends up in the middle between the girls. Madi hugs Alex. “Oh, nothing’s wrong with helping fund arts programs, sweetheart.”
Amy, in turn, moves closer, her knee nudging against Alex’s thigh. “No, no—it’s just very gentlemanly of you, Alex. Very generous. Very…” She pauses dramatically, batting her eyelashes. “…Very ‘cuckold.’”
Alex sighs, looking at Amy. “Got it. When I don’t think only about myself and take care of my friends, I’m a cuckold. That’s what this is all about.” There’s a mix of genuine laughter and a little hurt in his voice.
Madi presses a kiss to Alex’s cheek, soft and warm. “Not just a cuckold,” she murmurs. “A thoughtful cuckold. A generous cuckold. The kind who sends money to arts programs instead of just buying himself different stuff.”
Amy leans in closer, her face inches from his. “Mmm, exactly. And that’s why we love you. All of us—Kate, me, Madi, Lila, Sarah, and others.”
Alex giggles while both girls hug him from either side. “Oh… God. I…” He sighs. “Thanks. I… I mean we need to come up with a new term. Cuckold is kind of… um…”
Amy grins, her arm draped around his shoulder. “Kind of blunt and unromantic? Yeah, we know. But it’s fun to say.”
Madi nuzzles against him, her breath warm against his neck. “It’s accurate, though. You’re being the perfect gentleman about this whole thing. You’re not just putting up with Brian—you’re helping Kate enjoy him.”
Amy’s hand slides up to cup Alex’s cheek. “That’s what makes you special, kiddy. You’re not just okay with it, you’re… invested. In her pleasure. In her choices.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Yeah… comfort me. Now if I were Henry Miller…” He raises his index finger, laughing. “I’d cheat, humiliate women, drink, and they would’ve kicked me out of Dreamside a long time ago. But at least I’d be a classic Beat, or God forbid some kind of Burroughs. I think New Age, the tech boom, and the hippies’ ‘traditionalist turn’ in the 1980s made our ‘idyllic’ Dreamside and SACZ as a whole possible. Otherwise we’d all be wasted on booze and drugs by now.” Alex sighs. “And on the actual topic… I don’t want to be just a cuckold. I’ll be the king of cuckolds. An alpha-cuckold, you could say.”
The girls burst out laughing. Amy says, “Oh, that’s perfect! ‘Alpha-cuckold!’ It’s got a nice ring to it! You’ll be the ‘alpha’ of the cucks! The one who actually wants to be there, watching, helping—“ She pauses. “—serving.”
Madi hums. “It’s like being the best boyfriend. Just… expanded.”
Alex says, laughing. “Yeah, to hell with worrying about the whole situation. I’ll be another manager for Kate. Only I won’t be in charge of her professional life—I’ll be in charge of her sex life. Booking the best restaurants for her and Brian, inventing scenarios for their erotic roleplay… Maybe even giving Brian advice—after all, I was in an exclusive relationship with Kate for four years and we have a rich history together.” He continues in a theatrical tone with pride in his voice. “This is the perfect sex life for a successful erotic writer like me. I pour all of myself into writing books and sex with Kate—and this way Brian will take some of the load off me with his giant black cock. Beautiful!”
Amy and Madi erupt into a fit of giggles, Amy practically vibrating with amusement. She flops back onto the bed, clutching her stomach. “Oh my god! The ‘Erotic Concierge’! I can see the brochure now: ‘Need a fancy dinner and a tailored fantasy? Contact Alex, the Alpha-Cuckold!’”
Alex hums. “Yeah, something like that. Anyway, Amy—talk to Ava, the one you and Lila invited into our mansion. Tell her to…” He pauses. “Well, respect other people’s boundaries. Because I get the feeling she’s one of those professors who… you know. History of poetry plus psychology and all of that working at DreamArts… And when I found out she wears fake glasses, I immediately knew it was bad news. And the dinner we just had only confirmed it.”
Amy gives a guilty smile, thinking back on what happened. “Okay, okay, I know, first I should’ve talked to you, Kate, and Madi.” She sighs. “I thought… I… I thought we needed to get a professional opinion on this whole thing. I asked Lila, and she assured me that Ava would be a good crisis manager.”
Madi sighs softly, then looks at Amy with a small, reassuring smile.
“You know what, Amy? I think we can stop beating ourselves up over this. You were trying to help. That’s not a crime. You saw a complicated situation developing around people you love, you thought bringing in someone with professional experience might make things easier, and you acted. Maybe Ava isn’t exactly what we expected, but we’ll deal with that.”
She pauses, glancing briefly toward Alex before returning her attention to Amy.
“What matters is that nobody here needs to be fixed. Kate doesn’t need to be fixed because she’s exploring something new. Alex doesn’t need to be fixed because he’s trying to understand how he feels about it. You don’t need to be fixed because you worry too much. And I don’t need to be fixed because apparently I enjoy making inappropriate medical jokes at exactly the wrong moment.”
Madi gives a quiet laugh.
“We’re just a bunch of people living together, working together, loving each other, annoying each other, occasionally making spectacularly questionable decisions, and then figuring out what the hell we’re doing afterward. That’s basically the Château.”
She stretches out on the bed.
“So let Ava observe if she wants to observe. Let her make her little psychological theories. We don’t have to turn every conversation into a diagnostic report. If someone has a problem, they can say it. If someone needs help, they can ask for it. And if somebody just wants to sit in a room, eat dinner, drink kombucha, and make stupid jokes about being an alpha-cuckold, then honestly? I think that’s allowed too.”
Madi smiles, her voice becoming quieter and more affectionate.
“Four years here have taught me one thing: our biggest problem is usually that we care too much about each other and then start trying to manage each other’s lives. We don’t need another manager. We need to remember that we’re friends. We’re family. We’re allowed to be messy.”
She looks at Amy warmly.
“So stop blaming yourself, okay? You brought Ava here because you wanted everyone to be okay. That’s enough. Tomorrow we’ll deal with whatever comes next. Tonight, nobody needs to solve the Château.”
Madi settles back, letting out a contented sigh.
“And if anybody tries to turn dinner or other event into another psychological experiment tomorrow, I’m prescribing them eight hours of sleep, a long walk, and absolutely no fucking questions.”