[As always when Luz did this, everyone'd mindscape was a little different. She found it really had a lot to do with what was happening at the time, and how easily the person sharing with you wanted their feelings known. When she'd previously done this with Amity, it had been pretty chaotic, very not in league with the way Amity liked things. Luz understood why too: that day was one of screaming and near misses and time being strangled. You could feel the danger everywhere, and the urgency was not lost to Luz.
Alberto's memory, on the other hand, was the opposite of this. Here, instead of the heat of the moment, Luz felt like she was in a hammock, taking in the leisurely feel of a vacation. In contrast, there was just a moment of ease and exploration, but the comfort in knowing you were having a good time.
Luz could feel the bliss in Alberto's recollection: the smell of the salt in the air, the beauty in the sky's changing colors, the joy of a lazy day with Luca, the person he cared about most in the world. Luz knew that feeling well: she felt it with Amity, where any day she had with the girl could never really be bad, because at the end of the day, they were together.
But once she fell upon the mention of Alberto's dad, Luz got a glimpse of something she hadn't expected: there was a hold back here, a hesitance that Luz knew was NOT a part of Alberto's fond recollection, but instead a kind of suppression. Luz had never asked too much about Alberto's dad, and she realized now this was unconsciously by choice.
She'd had a feeling there was more to it than Alberto wanted to think about, and that was a feeling Luz understood all too well. In that moment, Luz let go of a memory she kept to herself too: one of her own dad, hooked up to machines, in a hospital bed. He looked less like the jovial, strong spirit Luz remembered in her memories and in her pictures, and more like a patient who was at the mercy of the things that kept him going.
Luz swallowed, closed her eyes, and gently tried to let the memory fade back so she could concentrate on Alberto. Of all the memories to inadvertently show, that was one she kept guarded.
That week, after all, was one she was more than happy to forget.
[ Alberto wasn't expecting to be able to gain any of Luz's memories, and this immediately puts a hole in his theory that they have more control over this than they actually seem to... Because while he's never seen anyone in hospital and has no clue what those machines are, he can assume this man is not well. He has a vague enough understanding by now that this is where doctors work. And he doesn't know how, but he knows that's Luz's dad. And he knows he's sick, maybe dying. He feels it. He feels the pain and the horror, the looming fear and uncertainty, the surreal medical atmosphere, remembers the sour, stale, sterile smell of the hospital room, the tension of walking down the halls to see him, which only felt worse on the way back out... Those latent connotations that come with poignantly painful memories, the critical ones that will remain vivid forever. These aren't his memories. But he remembers suddenly, as if they were. He's got no context for this vision. But he feels the gravity — the grief — the reluctance to remember. He squeezes her hand sympathetically; his eyes are already closed, but he squeezes them shut tighter, focused on the empathy he feels over this "glitch" in her power. He didn't think it could go both ways. It's an emotional side effect for him to experience this, just a blip compared to her actual ability. But he can feel the weight of the emotion attached to that memory.
And it's that line of intense emotion that allows another unintended memory of Alberto's to bleed through, in turn. The magic of their mutual mental connection now allows Luz to access his memory somewhat deeper, gleaning more detail than Alberto even can recall on his own, maybe, thrusting him backwards in time. This memory is much more vivid, more thorough, and far graver than the ones she'd seen before with Luca. Alberto's younger here; he doesn't remember how old he was. Maybe eight or nine. It's twilight again, but they're standing now at the foot of the abandoned lighthouse, with a full view of the tower and the island all around them — which appears to be full of a whole lot of... nothing. There's nothing on this island but this tower, those trees, and them: Alberto and his father. Even without knowing the full context, Luz can feel the sense of isolation and emptiness just by looking around.
The context effortlessly comes with the rest of the memory, though, without him needing to explain; fuzzy as some details are, the backstory he's not forgotten much of. He remembers his father had just returned from a trip to the human town, during which he'd left Alberto alone on the island — as per their usual. His dad came home days later than he said he would, so Alberto hadn't known when to expect him anymore; it'd been maybe a week he was left alone, something like that. Longer than usual — which had been happening more and more lately, as Alberto got older... But this was the longest they'd been apart yet, and this time, his father had returned home only to find Alberto injured — though thankfully by chance, it'd only happened earlier that same day, just a few hours before his dad came ashore at last. To Alberto, it was like his dad just knew how to show up in the nick of time — dad powers, you know. There's also a distinct feeling of being young, defiant, ashamed, angry, spiteful, sorry... a whole complicated mix of emotions, the wide array that comes with any chronically rowdy child getting in trouble. But the sense of getting in trouble is palpable. Luz and Alberto both can feel a dull yet strangely sharp ache in their left shoulder and arm — unlike the happier memory, he remembers the pain this time. A voice calls out to him from above, and the rickety ladder creaks and cracks as his father descends from the tower. Alberto doesn't look up, but instead stands holding his injured shoulder with his good hand, glowering down at his bare feet. (Luz may notice, as he looks down the length of his own body, he's wearing the same blue outfit he showed Luz in the summer, though he presented them as Luca's clothes back then... Apparently, they were hand-me-downs from Alberto. An odd little insight.)
"Alright, Alberto... Let's get you fixed up..."
The man sounds exasperated, almost a bit snide, in his obvious annoyance at whatever the situation is, even despite his smooth, airy tone of voice. Exactly the same sort of cadence and inflection Alberto himself speaks with — but of a different disposition, for sure.
"Ehi, basta, stop pouting. Stand up straight."
The man reaches out and taps Alberto on his sore shoulder; it hurts, and he winces and pulls it backward from him pointedly — which also hurts to do. But all the same, he does as he's told and stands up straight, shoulders squared painfully, chest puffed out, arms straight at his side, chin up. But he's still averting his eyes, glaring downwards away from his father.
"Hey. Look me in the eyes."
Alberto refuses to look him in the eye. His father taps his shoulder again, more pointedly this time. After a beat, Alberto looks up. And at last, the man comes into view: he's tall, thin but fit, moderately handsome though markedly unkempt, with tan, freckled skin, tinged pink with sunburn, with dark-but-sunbleached hair beneath a worn out, old, brown fedora. His clothes are threadbare like Alberto's, still odd-looking, but a bit more informed, even correctly sporting some human accessories, like a real belt — though still no shoes. But most noticeably of all, apart from the obvious family resemblance to his son: Alberto's father looks tired. Not ill, no — almost more philosophically exhausted, and in this moment, especially exasperated with his feral child.
"You know you're in trouble, right?"
Alberto doesn't say anything. Just stands still at attention, still scowling, holding his father's gaze petulantly. His father sighs, rolling his eyes, then begins gesturing with his hands as he launches into a lecture.
"Albertino, we've been through this...! What am I supposed to do if you hurt yourself? Which doctor do you want me to take you to, huh — the doctor in the human town? I don't think they treat sea monsters! Or would you rather go undersea, eh? Let the doctor in the village take care of you — go see for yourself what people are like down there? You think they'd understand us, that they'd just let you come back up here, no problem? We've talked about this. They'd take you away from me, Alberto — they'd take you away from me and never let you come back to the surface again, and they'd probably send me to the Deep! We'd never see each other again! Is that what you want to happen? ...Well?"
Alberto averts his eyes again, staring at the tides licking the shore in the distance. His father presses him to answer, and he mumbles sourly:
"No..."
"No? Okay. Well, I don't want that to happen, either. So, since we agree, then, tell me: why did you jump off the tower again, Alberto? Again! ...Well?!"
"I-I don't know!"
Alberto feels tears hot on his cheeks, welling up fast, falling faster. His father sighs and hangs his head, shaking it as he concedes the lecture should end, and tries to defuse himself. He pulls Alberto into a hug, wrapping his arms around him lovingly, cradling his head in his hand as he holds him close; Alberto buries his face into his side, sniffling and softly crying, angrily, bitterly, clinging to his dad. His father shushes him, softening his tone of voice.
"Alberto, you need to follow the rules when I'm not here. That's all. Please. Gravity isn't a game, son. You're smarter than this. I know you're not a bad kid. But if you keep acting like a bad kid, you're gonna ruin everything. Our wonderful life up here. Do you understand? I need you to stay safe when you're alone on the island, Albertino... I know you get bored on your own sometimes — but I can trust you to be on your own, can't I?"
Alberto nods slowly, keeping his face buried in his father's shirt; the tears have stopped, but he doesn't make any other response than that. Just nods and hugs his dad closer. His dad sighs and pulls back, though, then crouches down to be eye-level with him.
"You've gotta start making good on those promises, kiddo... Mah, dai— Let's take a look at that arm. ...Hah, and while we get you all squared away, I'll tell you everything about my trip, how's that~"
He stays on bent knee as he pulls out some ragtag medical supplies from upstairs that he'd shoved in his pocket, then places a hand affectionately on Alberto's head and tussles his hair, offering Alberto a warm, smug, lopsided smile — so much like Alberto's own smile, all but exactly. The memory grows fuzzier here, but Alberto barely remembers smiling back for a second, blinking tears away, then abruptly launching himself into another hug, throwing his arms around his father's neck, despite the pain in his injured shoulder. His dad chuckled at that, endeared, and hugged him back again. Alberto doesn't remember the rest.
For as much vividness as the magic brings up from the depths of his mind, the whole scene is transferred to Luz's mind in merely a second or two, absorbed instantaneously. But Alberto is acutely aware of what's just been shared, and it brought his own recollection of that night into high definition. In the second hug, he thinks he remembers what his father smelled like. He smells like fish and smoke and salt and sweat, and something else he could never quite place. He smells like Dad — that distinct smell he can only smell in his dreams now. It strikes him in this moment, holding hands with Luz, how even the memory of his father's scent was dredged up in this scene he never intended on sharing... And that's what does it. His smell — no, more like the ghost of his smell.
Alberto abruptly lets go of Luz's hand, reeling back. He didn't mean to share any of that, and sure, that's uncomfortable, and now of course they're gonna have to talk about it, oof... Whatever, he's fine with that. Luz should know, really. But what he couldn't handle was the heightened sensation of recalling this memory, magically enhanced as it's brought up from the subconscious to be absorbed by Luz; he's less disturbed about Luz learning any of this, but more so about reliving it himself. He remembers what hugging his dad felt like; he dreams about it sometimes. But in this moment, through Luz's magic, he really felt like he could almost smell his dad, so faint, just barely unable to — and it's disorienting, discomforting. Disappointing... That was the clearest he could remember his dad in a long time. Almost smelling him is the closest he's been to his dad in even longer. Alberto stands back, staring at Luz with a stricken look, holding his hand to his chest protectively. His words fail him, face-to-face with Luz again now, in real time. ]
Luz was unprepared, and without knowing that would come, Luz was compromised. She remembered that swell of emotions, of crying in her mothers arms, the sounds, the reassurance from nurses that felt hollow. A white ceiling, a gloom over her she couldn't wish away. Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same. The world would go on without him, and it would act like he didn't exist in the first place.
Luz muffled her pain, but it was a low wail, one that never found relief. They had moved from their old home, their old life, to this place in hoped they had a chance, but it was a sad inevitability. Her father would pass, and the reassurances he'd give her, the love he'd show, would be a memory. It hurt so much sometimes that Luz would just clutch herself and cry where no one could see her.
It was the Azura books, she remembered, that brought her out of it. The stories about a Good Witch who would right wrongs and use her magic to fight for her friends and have all these great adventures! Maybe in some people that was dorky and a little overdone, but Luz loved it!
The book series was pretty great in her estimation, and it meant a lot to Luz that her dad felt it reflected her. Trying to embody Azura's traits of helping however you could was something she always aspired to do. Performing it in action manifested on its own terms, but it didn't change anything. You still did whatever you could, you still tried to understand someone else. It helped Azura was a powerful witch of course, which was fueled Luz's first instinct in the Boiling Isles. Obviously the first reason came hand in hand with that, because actually being a witch took hard work. You had to have patience and dedication, or your work would come out wrong.
It was a jumble of feelings and remembrances that were the focus of Luz's initial need to go back to the Isles, as quickly as possible, because of what was to come. That had changed in time, but that was another story.
Luz swallowed her words in her throat, unprepared what had been revealed, but before she could even react to that, now came the memory Alberto had.
Things like the smell of the beach plunged into Luz's senses, and that was a feeling she cherished. Somehow Alberto just embodied the tower he came from to her, and sand and surf. Seeing the tower empty surprised her, as Alberto's ability to amass stuff was something she cherished about him. Luz imagined the tower would like the apartment Luca and he shared.
But as the memory played out, Luz got a bad feeling that started the moment she saw Alberto's father. His face, the disdain, gave Luz a cold feeling, and seeing Alberto in that state, vulnerable and in pain, stopped her dead.
This wasn't. Was this Alberto's father? The man he sort of spoke around, tried to make him sound good, but Luz realized he tiptoed around. He was more inclined to talk about Massimo, who seemed like an actual father figure. Luz had guessed that this meant Albert's own father gave him complicated feelings, and now she was seeing why.
Luz had never thought her own mother was manipulative. She loved with her whole heart and acted on impulse. There was never a day she didn't miss her, and was still hoping against hope she would find a way back to her.
But this man? Manipulation seeped out of him. She understood immediately he had a detachment in himself, a way he kept Alberto at arm's length with his words. It cut Luz unexpectedly, that anyone could ever feel that way about her friend, but she knew not everyone saw things that way. Here, she could see clearly what was happening. This man, he liked his way of life, and Alberto was getting in the way of that.
He would, she could see now, leave Alberto if he kept becoming an inconvenience.
It was strange to have this insight, but :uz was just watching, and she had seen people like this before. She knew the feelings Alberto had to be experiencing were complicated. You're still a child, you still try to love your parent. Alberto probably didn't know quite how to think about it.
There was so much there that Luz was still trying to absorb, but she understood one thing.
Alberto was her friend. He was funny and smart, and he deserved better than that. Seeing him so vulnerable in this memory, trying to steel himself through the pain, just made her feel so angry at his father she couldn't stand it. Thank goodness he found Luca and Massimo.
Luz reached over and hugged Alberto fiercely. In the back of her mind, she felt like she should have asked, been respectful, but she knew she was acting out of her own desire too. There was a wound she hadn't expected to weather again, and she felt comfort with her friend.
All of this was. A lot. Memories Luz had not been prepared for had come to light, and old pain was reawakened. Together. That helped, and that was the other part of the hug. Luz felt her emotions bursting at the seams, and there was no way that Alberto was free of that feeling.
[[OOC: My playlist was just going at random, and as I finally finished it, this comes on. Perfect!]]
[ Alberto was not expecting the hug, and a quick flash of a few fuzzier memories pass between them as her hand grazes a bit of bare skin as she pulls him into the hug. The ones that bubble up from Alberto's mind come again like a hand of cards, just simple vignettes of mundane moments that happened so often, the odds were high they'd bubble up first — true examples of his norm on the island. A vision of two crabs in Alberto's tiny hands, pinching at each other and being made to fight like action figures — a game he played alone often when he was little. A memory of lying in his father's arms on top of their tower, beside their fire pit, gazing at stars together and laughing — his dad spontaneously tickling him and laughing more. Another memory on top of their tower, this time alone, much older, more recent, looking through a spyglass, scanning the beautiful horizon — this memory repeats itself a few times, it seems, multiples of it delivering themselves at once, but are all in fact separate memories stacked together, searching the horizon for his dad from different vantage points on the tower... because he did that so much. Every day. For so long.
It's such a short flash of errant memories, but he's aware of them just as much as she is as they bubble up. It's a most peculiar feeling, and now that they've lost what little control they had of Luz's power to start, it's becoming disorienting and overwhelming for him, who goes to such lengths to avoid thinking about these feelings. He assumes Luz must feel the same — she's not talked much about her dad as much as he's not talked much about his. He can relate with the absence, albeit wildly different types of losses. And wildly different types of men, from the impression he's getting of her father as a loving, supportive, oddball who saw the best in his daughter. He can only imagine her pain. Alberto readjusts their hug right away, so their bare skin isn't touching anywhere. But he doesn't break it — he hugs her closer, burying his face into her shoulder, careful not to make any skin-to-skin contact, but very glad for the physical comfort, too. Thank goodness it's the middle of winter and they're both bundled up well enough to have a break from the wave of memories to hug this out for a second. It'd be harder for both of them to share memories like these, surely, if it were the middle of summer and they couldn't even pause to comfort one another with a simple hug. ]
Poor Luz just wants to help her friend, so she's glad that Alberto is taking the initiative to remind her that yes, her powers are still in effect, so they need to be careful now when it comes to touch. This last bit of contact from her spontaneous hugs gets him a few smaller pieces of Luz too, and like Alberto, these come more like jagged pieces. They range from her being asleep in her father's arms, to Luz sitting in the principal's office while her mother and the principal decide what's best for her is to put her up in a camp to make her normal.
Those, however, pale in comparison to Luz's one last jagged piece of memory: her leaving her mom in the rain, her mother begging her to come back and live with her again, swearing things would be different. It caused a lurching feeling in the girl's heart, reliving THAT moment again, one of the worst memories that lived rent free in Luz's head. It was one she still could reconcile, even as Amity had told her that they were all in the human realm again.
Luz involuntarily let's out a sob, which she does her best to choke back. She was trying to focus on Alberto, to give him some comfort. The LAST thing she needed was to remember things she couldn't fix, that affected her even as she tried to make this place work, because what else could she do?
The hug though? It helps, and it's for both of them. That last memory of Alberto looking for his father hit Luz hard, imagining how hard it must be for Alberto to keep looking but never find him, and why when he talked about a parental figure, he brought up Massimo and Bruno more often than not.
[ Luz just about snipes Alberto with that "sorry." He's still so unused to many elements of friendship in itself, socializing at all being far more new to him than he's ever let on til now. But even he, with his limited exposure to other people, knew instinctively: This is embarrassing. He knew his situation wasn't normal — he'd asked his dad, his dad had readily admitted it wasn't, for anyone, but just found every reason under the sun (and under the sea) to justify their bizarre arrangement. And Alberto had no choice but to accept it as truth. It was his dad — the only person he knew. Why wouldn't he take him at his word? But he hated how he and his dad fought when Alberto would beg to leave the island, or do something dangerous and get in trouble for good reason, or just do something innocent but mildly irritating and get in trouble for no good reason... He hated all the rules, and the loneliness, the uncertainty. He hated the shame and guilt and helplessness he felt over his dad leaving. So by the time he did finally meet someone else — he just lied. Instinctively lied. Painted an intentionally blurry picture of his idyllic life in isolation, exaggerated just how cool his dad really was, avoided all the uncomfortable details (most of them), and lied. When Luca eventually found out the truth, he acted so sad, and Alberto felt his pity like salt in a wound, insult to injury. But he never said sorry. The only other person who knows about Alberto's father was Bruno — and Bruno just cracked a couple jokes and told Alberto there's nothing he could ever do or say that'd push Bruno away. Kept it light and loving. Certainly no sorry. Alberto's not sure what Luz is apologizing for, exactly. "Sorry, your dad sucks?" "Sorry, my new power sucks?" "Sorry, we're sad now, being sad sucks?" But either way, after a beat, trying to process what she means and how he's 'supposed to' react, he just concedes that his answer should be the same regardless: ]
...It's okay.
[ His voice is a little hoarse, weak for wanting to hold back tears of his own, and hearing how his own voice is tugged with emotion, it just stirs up more tears to well up. He hugs Luz a little closer, instinctively giving her a reassuring little rub on the back — like any friend might. He's learned a lot about friendship since leaving the island. Some instincts are better than others. ]
But when she hears that answer, something does tug at Luz. It makes her pause, take in what Alberto says, and she realizes this is something they both need to understand].
No. It's not. That was hard, Alberto. Everyone has things in them that hurt, and going back there is always going to be way worse than you think. I should have KNOWN that. I have to get better with this power so we don't...overshare.
[Even if she felt like it was important that it happened. Luz now understood sometimes why Alberto did have so much of that swagger. A lot of it was Alberto himself, which Luz adored, but there was also this. Alberto was doing his best to deal with all of the conflicting emotions he had, caught up in his feelings toward his father.
Luz didn't like to admit it, but she couldn't unsee what felt like manipulation from him. She could FEEL Alberto's shame at making trouble for him, doing his best but feeling caged up, and then his father just seemed to act like it was something forced upon HIM. In that moment Luz could feel that frustration and that sadness and restlessness, something she knew all too well...and didn't.
Because she'd felt nothing but love from her Mama. Camilla wasn't in an ideal situation, but she did the best he could. And though Amity's memory had not gone that far, Luz knew her mother would take in her friends.
Alberto's dad couldn't even do that for Alberto. It was so unfair, and so wrong and it infuriated her].
And we get to cry about it. It hurts, to remember all of that stuff. It stinks that it happened to us. We are strong enough to recover, but we get to feel angry and frustrated about it too.
[Luz was getting caught up in herself right now, but she wanted to be clear that they didn't have to hide how they were feeling from each other. Luz knew it was how she coped sometimes, but Alberto? She didn't want him to feel like he had to suffer along.
She was his friend. They could feel the pain and help each other when it got like this].
[ Being given permission to be angry is what does Alberto in. He chokes out a single sob, and clings to her tighter still holding their hug, hiding his face as it screws up with tears. He can't keep it together after that line. He was already emotionally on his toes when Luz challenged him trying to gloss over things being very much not okay, and he feels a sense of vindication swell as she goes on, validation, redemption... But being told he “gets to be angry,” as if he's earned the privilege, strikes such a nerve. The same one that was rubbed raw by that memory. The same raw nerve that makes Alberto stand up straight with his arms at his side and go quiet when he’s in trouble... He wasn't allowed to be angry with his dad. After a while, dissent was pointless. His dad had to be right, those were the rules, that was the situation, "because I said so," "because I'm your dad," "because!" — end of discussion. It didn't take long for Alberto to figure out arguing back made no difference, and that it was best to just shut up and be good until his dad was gone — then he could do whatever he wanted. Very natural line of thinking for a child.
But the anger he felt as he grew older became much harder to hide; the smarter he got, the more resentment he felt. The more often he'd beg to go to the human town with his father. The more often they'd fight. When he was little, he used to beg his father to stay, not to go; but much later, as he grew older, he'd sometimes get so mad that he wasn't allowed to come with him, Alberto would tell his father to go, just leave, go away and leave him alone — petty, spiteful, venomous. Ever the optimist, at least he'd then looked forward to his dad leaving, happy to be alone again on the island after they'd fight like that — a silver lining that twisted his conscience into all kinds of knots in hindsight, after his dad left for good... Alberto felt so much anger, he couldn't help but show it, though he truly tried his best to hide it — but after years of that, his facade was left thin and frayed. No one knew how to push his buttons better than his dad. It's only gotten better now by virtue of having fewer people in his life who make him that angry — namely not his dad.
But for as much as his "everything's okay" front has gotten stronger again, and things truly are better, he's still full of emotional trip wires. Kaisou hits them all the time. His worst grief here is still fresh — Bruno's only been gone a little over a month by this point... Alberto's still furious. There's nothing to do with that feeling, though, nowhere to direct it. It's no one's fault. Bruno didn't want to leave. Nothing went wrong. Only Luca knew how deeply this loss hurt Alberto, being that, until this moment here with Luz, the only other person who knew about Alberto's dad leaving him was... Bruno. It's hard to express his grief over Bruno's disappearance without getting into all the messy details of his relationship with his father... and Alberto's not the type to launch into his life story just to make himself vulnerable enough to vent for a second. Everyone who knows Alberto knows he was close with Bruno, because he never shut up about the guy! But no one knew just how much he meant to him — not even Luca, not even Bruno. So all the time now, not-so-deep-down, Alberto's still mad. Not at Bruno. Not at Kaisou. Just mad. And it leaves him in an emotional stalemate, where the best option was ultimately to just... not talk about Bruno. Really cementing Bruno as a father figure, in that regard, then. It's a lot easier to just swallow the pain and press on with a stiff upper lip — really cementing Alberto as a Madrigal, in that regard, too.
As Alberto nuzzles his face in Luz's shoulder, shaking slightly from trying and failing not to cry, his wet cheek presses against her bare neck by accident. Another stackfull of memories is accidentally absorbed — but somehow, in this moment, he doesn't mind so much. He doesn't have the strength to mind. It does the heavy lifting for him in expressing himself, after all. Just like before, they all come at once in a flash, the through string of one bleeding into the next, transferred in a matter of seconds just from a light graze. He recalls wise words from Dolores, sitting in the Zodiac apartment complex parking lot, carving pumpkins together one cool October afternoon; she struck him deeply right away, and he'll never forget what she told him, when he just assumed she'd be angry she'd left Kaisou and come back, as he tried to give her permission to be angry... she didn't want it.
"I've seen what anger can do to people. I don't want that for me."
"...So what do you do when you feel angry? Do you just— tell that voice to shut up?"
"No, of course not. But there are ways to be angry that don't cause harm to people around you. To the people who care about you. There are no bad emotions. What matters is how you express them. You understand?"
And from that... comes the guilt. Luz had at first asked Alberto for a memory no one else knew about, even Luca — and unintentionally now, she got it. On the heels of recalling Dolores' advice, which left him as conflicted as ever about how to best express his emotions, he recalls his last night in Portorosso. And for the first time, Luz gleans a more accurate vision of just what his experience was like there — not all the sunshine and rainbows Alberto painted it with.
”No."
"Why do you even care?! You don't even like me! You don't even talk to me...!"
"Ma— Alberto..."
"Just let me go, Dad!"
He'd said it by accident — by reflex. He can't count how many times in his life he's shouted, "Just let me go, Dad!" It just came out. But it was a slip for a reason. Massimo chased after him even when Alberto was lashing out at him. Then they fixed things. But his memory doesn't show that happy ending. It cuts short there, instead, shifting to a recollection of him once again lashing out. This last memory in the chain, though— this is fresh— all the details are crisp, raw, vivid, visceral... It's from a mere six weeks ago. It's set in his apartment’s living area, just on the other side of the door behind Luz and Alberto now. And inadvertently, his mind reveals the truth of just why Alberto's been without a phone for the past month, until only a week or two ago... He'd told Luz at Luca's birthday party last month that "his phone broke;" but what he meant by that, apparently, was that he furiously hurled his phone across the room til it shattered against a wall, after he found out Bruno was gone. Then proceeded to go ballistic in their bathroom. At least he confined his attack, but he definitely still went bonkers. He turns his face away from Luz once his memory strings him to that moment, slinking out of the destroyed bathroom, soaking wet, hurrying to shut the door behind him to hide the mess from Luca — who obviously knew that it was a mess, being that he heard all the destruction happening... But Alberto was thinking of Dolores' words in that moment, too, just as he is in this one. He's still struggling to understand the nuance of her advice. Either he shows his anger, and it hurts people, or he doesn't, and it hurts him. That's how he sees it. There’s another brief, contextless flash of another destroyed room, Luz’s first glimpse inside Alberto’s old tower — unfortunately, at its very worst point. At his very worst point. That pain is palpable between them, even as quick and vague as that vision is.
He moves his face to rest on the outside of Luz's shoulder, breaking that brief accidental direct contact again, overwhelmed by the wave of emotion Luz has just unleashed — both by her power and her words, and her friendship — these rough feelings hitting him over and over, breaking like tides. Washed with everything he's refused to open up about these past couple months, all his most recent pain that was easy to cover up because no one knew his backstory but Luca. But now Luz knows, so she can connect all the dots, and see a truer, fuller picture of the happy-go-lucky boy she always goofs around with. And though he's still trying to hold back tears, he doesn't break the hug, and actually accepts the comfort from his friend. She's right — things aren't okay, and he's still mad about it. He's always been mad about it. He feels very seen right now, in the best way he possibly could, really — but it still hurts to break the illusion. It's not all a front, of course not! But just goes to show Alberto’s a pretty good actor... ]
There wasn't anything to do but take it all in, experience it for herself. Because Luz had, without meaning to, given Alberto permission to show that side of him he hid on purpose, that part where he felt ashamed and angry, attached not only to his father but everyone he cared about leaving in some way. It was a quiet and conflicted feeling, one that Luz felt now, even in her lingering anger at how he manipulated Alberto. It angered her, wanted her to react and dissuade Alberto from maintaining a facade about hid dad.
Alberto deserved better, deserved someone who treated him better. Luz felt that, understood that, and knew also that she had her own weight around her neck.
She had to be careful. Alberto's rope was all tangled up with the human world and his own instinct and how the things his dad did affected him. Luz understood well enough that it was enough to get Alberto to believe he was the reason his father left. He'd been too much, he was a burden no parent needed.
And Luz rejected that. Alberto was the best person she knew, as young as her, trying to make this version of the world work. He wrecked the orderly world they tried to impress on him, the world that made him lose people he loved. It was a thing Luz understood more than she expected].
I won't...it's Ok, Alberto. It hurts. And no one tells you anything. It's so stupid. But I'm here. I'll listen, all right? I'll make sure I control the whole sharing pasts but...I'll do whatever I can. I promise.
[ Alberto heaves a sigh, as deep a breath as he can manage, holds it in as he pulls back and pats Luz on both shoulders with a wry smile; then lets his hands linger, pressed against both shoulders, as he exhales his sigh and all but deflates. He needed to force that composure. It's still obviously shaky, she can surely see it in his eyes, but he's overwhelmed with every feeling across the spectrum, it feels like. Far more than he usually lets out. And it's impressive Luz managed it, inadvertently or not. His wan smile turns a bit more endeared, his gaze softening empathetically. ]
...Thanks, Luz. I'll— I'll listen, too. Or talk. Or not. Whatever you need, okay? I wanna help you, too. We're friends. And—
[ He gives her shoulders another little pat, before pulling away and placing his hands comfortably on his hips, shifting his weight to one side as he so often does. Regaining that Alberto swagger, because he can't suffer another moment more of schmaltz. ]
If you can't control your past-sharing-touch-magic-thing... [ He takes a sharp, quick sigh and gives her a pressed smile. ] At least next time it probably won't be this, uh— much...? Hah.
[ One should hope. But these kids both have plenty more to dig up... and they both know that. He's just trying to lighten the mood already. What would happen if Alberto stayed serious for any significant amount of time? Would he faint...? ]
[It helped, at least, that Alberto would understand he didn't have to be so guarded. Neither of them liked dealing with pain, but Luz knew she could at least try to remind Alberto he could overcome it. Besides, they were here for each other, weren't they?
Thanks. I'm grateful for that. Pretty sure neither of us are used to talking about our pain, but I think it helps. We need to, you know? If we just keep it to ourselves, we'll only feel worse. That could lead to some bad situations.
[Luz had understood well enough that if she didn't talk about Amity, didn't at least find some outlet, she'd be in her room crying and holding on to the necklace she'd given her girlfriend that was now in her possession. The swagger from Alberto to regain the situation was helpful, and she couldn't help chuckle].
I'll make sure I control that. No way we could have another emotional episode like this one! Sheesh! I feel like I've had ten crying sessions!
[Luz was pretty sure he would faint, but it was appreciated. They went through a lot. Some levity was very much appreciated]!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Oops! Pretend you didn't see that!
Date: 2023-03-29 12:32 pm (UTC)Alberto's memory, on the other hand, was the opposite of this. Here, instead of the heat of the moment, Luz felt like she was in a hammock, taking in the leisurely feel of a vacation. In contrast, there was just a moment of ease and exploration, but the comfort in knowing you were having a good time.
Luz could feel the bliss in Alberto's recollection: the smell of the salt in the air, the beauty in the sky's changing colors, the joy of a lazy day with Luca, the person he cared about most in the world. Luz knew that feeling well: she felt it with Amity, where any day she had with the girl could never really be bad, because at the end of the day, they were together.
But once she fell upon the mention of Alberto's dad, Luz got a glimpse of something she hadn't expected: there was a hold back here, a hesitance that Luz knew was NOT a part of Alberto's fond recollection, but instead a kind of suppression. Luz had never asked too much about Alberto's dad, and she realized now this was unconsciously by choice.
She'd had a feeling there was more to it than Alberto wanted to think about, and that was a feeling Luz understood all too well. In that moment, Luz let go of a memory she kept to herself too: one of her own dad, hooked up to machines, in a hospital bed. He looked less like the jovial, strong spirit Luz remembered in her memories and in her pictures, and more like a patient who was at the mercy of the things that kept him going.
Luz swallowed, closed her eyes, and gently tried to let the memory fade back so she could concentrate on Alberto. Of all the memories to inadvertently show, that was one she kept guarded.
That week, after all, was one she was more than happy to forget.
a novel... after almost 2 yrs playing Alberto, my first mem share! the Debut of Signor Fuckface~! (:
Date: 2023-04-21 06:11 pm (UTC)And it's that line of intense emotion that allows another unintended memory of Alberto's to bleed through, in turn. The magic of their mutual mental connection now allows Luz to access his memory somewhat deeper, gleaning more detail than Alberto even can recall on his own, maybe, thrusting him backwards in time. This memory is much more vivid, more thorough, and far graver than the ones she'd seen before with Luca. Alberto's younger here; he doesn't remember how old he was. Maybe eight or nine. It's twilight again, but they're standing now at the foot of the abandoned lighthouse, with a full view of the tower and the island all around them — which appears to be full of a whole lot of... nothing. There's nothing on this island but this tower, those trees, and them: Alberto and his father. Even without knowing the full context, Luz can feel the sense of isolation and emptiness just by looking around.
The context effortlessly comes with the rest of the memory, though, without him needing to explain; fuzzy as some details are, the backstory he's not forgotten much of. He remembers his father had just returned from a trip to the human town, during which he'd left Alberto alone on the island — as per their usual. His dad came home days later than he said he would, so Alberto hadn't known when to expect him anymore; it'd been maybe a week he was left alone, something like that. Longer than usual — which had been happening more and more lately, as Alberto got older... But this was the longest they'd been apart yet, and this time, his father had returned home only to find Alberto injured — though thankfully by chance, it'd only happened earlier that same day, just a few hours before his dad came ashore at last. To Alberto, it was like his dad just knew how to show up in the nick of time — dad powers, you know. There's also a distinct feeling of being young, defiant, ashamed, angry, spiteful, sorry... a whole complicated mix of emotions, the wide array that comes with any chronically rowdy child getting in trouble. But the sense of getting in trouble is palpable. Luz and Alberto both can feel a dull yet strangely sharp ache in their left shoulder and arm — unlike the happier memory, he remembers the pain this time. A voice calls out to him from above, and the rickety ladder creaks and cracks as his father descends from the tower. Alberto doesn't look up, but instead stands holding his injured shoulder with his good hand, glowering down at his bare feet. (Luz may notice, as he looks down the length of his own body, he's wearing the same blue outfit he showed Luz in the summer, though he presented them as Luca's clothes back then... Apparently, they were hand-me-downs from Alberto. An odd little insight.)
"Alright, Alberto... Let's get you fixed up..."
The man sounds exasperated, almost a bit snide, in his obvious annoyance at whatever the situation is, even despite his smooth, airy tone of voice. Exactly the same sort of cadence and inflection Alberto himself speaks with — but of a different disposition, for sure.
"Ehi, basta, stop pouting. Stand up straight."
The man reaches out and taps Alberto on his sore shoulder; it hurts, and he winces and pulls it backward from him pointedly — which also hurts to do. But all the same, he does as he's told and stands up straight, shoulders squared painfully, chest puffed out, arms straight at his side, chin up. But he's still averting his eyes, glaring downwards away from his father.
"Hey. Look me in the eyes."
Alberto refuses to look him in the eye. His father taps his shoulder again, more pointedly this time. After a beat, Alberto looks up. And at last, the man comes into view: he's tall, thin but fit, moderately handsome though markedly unkempt, with tan, freckled skin, tinged pink with sunburn, with dark-but-sunbleached hair beneath a worn out, old, brown fedora. His clothes are threadbare like Alberto's, still odd-looking, but a bit more informed, even correctly sporting some human accessories, like a real belt — though still no shoes. But most noticeably of all, apart from the obvious family resemblance to his son: Alberto's father looks tired. Not ill, no — almost more philosophically exhausted, and in this moment, especially exasperated with his feral child.
"You know you're in trouble, right?"
Alberto doesn't say anything. Just stands still at attention, still scowling, holding his father's gaze petulantly. His father sighs, rolling his eyes, then begins gesturing with his hands as he launches into a lecture.
"Albertino, we've been through this...! What am I supposed to do if you hurt yourself? Which doctor do you want me to take you to, huh — the doctor in the human town? I don't think they treat sea monsters! Or would you rather go undersea, eh? Let the doctor in the village take care of you — go see for yourself what people are like down there? You think they'd understand us, that they'd just let you come back up here, no problem? We've talked about this. They'd take you away from me, Alberto — they'd take you away from me and never let you come back to the surface again, and they'd probably send me to the Deep! We'd never see each other again! Is that what you want to happen? ...Well?"
Alberto averts his eyes again, staring at the tides licking the shore in the distance. His father presses him to answer, and he mumbles sourly:
"No..."
"No? Okay. Well, I don't want that to happen, either. So, since we agree, then, tell me: why did you jump off the tower again, Alberto? Again! ...Well?!"
"I-I don't know!"
Alberto feels tears hot on his cheeks, welling up fast, falling faster. His father sighs and hangs his head, shaking it as he concedes the lecture should end, and tries to defuse himself. He pulls Alberto into a hug, wrapping his arms around him lovingly, cradling his head in his hand as he holds him close; Alberto buries his face into his side, sniffling and softly crying, angrily, bitterly, clinging to his dad. His father shushes him, softening his tone of voice.
"Alberto, you need to follow the rules when I'm not here. That's all. Please. Gravity isn't a game, son. You're smarter than this. I know you're not a bad kid. But if you keep acting like a bad kid, you're gonna ruin everything. Our wonderful life up here. Do you understand? I need you to stay safe when you're alone on the island, Albertino... I know you get bored on your own sometimes — but I can trust you to be on your own, can't I?"
Alberto nods slowly, keeping his face buried in his father's shirt; the tears have stopped, but he doesn't make any other response than that. Just nods and hugs his dad closer. His dad sighs and pulls back, though, then crouches down to be eye-level with him.
"You've gotta start making good on those promises, kiddo... Mah, dai— Let's take a look at that arm. ...Hah, and while we get you all squared away, I'll tell you everything about my trip, how's that~"
He stays on bent knee as he pulls out some ragtag medical supplies from upstairs that he'd shoved in his pocket, then places a hand affectionately on Alberto's head and tussles his hair, offering Alberto a warm, smug, lopsided smile — so much like Alberto's own smile, all but exactly. The memory grows fuzzier here, but Alberto barely remembers smiling back for a second, blinking tears away, then abruptly launching himself into another hug, throwing his arms around his father's neck, despite the pain in his injured shoulder. His dad chuckled at that, endeared, and hugged him back again. Alberto doesn't remember the rest.
For as much vividness as the magic brings up from the depths of his mind, the whole scene is transferred to Luz's mind in merely a second or two, absorbed instantaneously. But Alberto is acutely aware of what's just been shared, and it brought his own recollection of that night into high definition. In the second hug, he thinks he remembers what his father smelled like. He smells like fish and smoke and salt and sweat, and something else he could never quite place. He smells like Dad — that distinct smell he can only smell in his dreams now. It strikes him in this moment, holding hands with Luz, how even the memory of his father's scent was dredged up in this scene he never intended on sharing... And that's what does it. His smell — no, more like the ghost of his smell.
Alberto abruptly lets go of Luz's hand, reeling back. He didn't mean to share any of that, and sure, that's uncomfortable, and now of course they're gonna have to talk about it, oof... Whatever, he's fine with that. Luz should know, really. But what he couldn't handle was the heightened sensation of recalling this memory, magically enhanced as it's brought up from the subconscious to be absorbed by Luz; he's less disturbed about Luz learning any of this, but more so about reliving it himself. He remembers what hugging his dad felt like; he dreams about it sometimes. But in this moment, through Luz's magic, he really felt like he could almost smell his dad, so faint, just barely unable to — and it's disorienting, discomforting. Disappointing... That was the clearest he could remember his dad in a long time. Almost smelling him is the closest he's been to his dad in even longer. Alberto stands back, staring at Luz with a stricken look, holding his hand to his chest protectively. His words fail him, face-to-face with Luz again now, in real time. ]
I— U-Uh—...
Re: DANG. That is so SO good. Thanks for this lead in, and as usual, your Alberto JUST IS.
Date: 2023-04-21 07:37 pm (UTC)Luz was unprepared, and without knowing that would come, Luz was compromised. She remembered that swell of emotions, of crying in her mothers arms, the sounds, the reassurance from nurses that felt hollow. A white ceiling, a gloom over her she couldn't wish away. Nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same. The world would go on without him, and it would act like he didn't exist in the first place.
Luz muffled her pain, but it was a low wail, one that never found relief. They had moved from their old home, their old life, to this place in hoped they had a chance, but it was a sad inevitability. Her father would pass, and the reassurances he'd give her, the love he'd show, would be a memory. It hurt so much sometimes that Luz would just clutch herself and cry where no one could see her.
It was the Azura books, she remembered, that brought her out of it. The stories about a Good Witch who would right wrongs and use her magic to fight for her friends and have all these great adventures! Maybe in some people that was dorky and a little overdone, but Luz loved it!
The book series was pretty great in her estimation, and it meant a lot to Luz that her dad felt it reflected her. Trying to embody Azura's traits of helping however you could was something she always aspired to do. Performing it in action manifested on its own terms, but it didn't change anything. You still did whatever you could, you still tried to understand someone else. It helped Azura was a powerful witch of course, which was fueled Luz's first instinct in the Boiling Isles. Obviously the first reason came hand in hand with that, because actually being a witch took hard work. You had to have patience and dedication, or your work would come out wrong.
It was a jumble of feelings and remembrances that were the focus of Luz's initial need to go back to the Isles, as quickly as possible, because of what was to come. That had changed in time, but that was another story.
Luz swallowed her words in her throat, unprepared what had been revealed, but before she could even react to that, now came the memory Alberto had.
Things like the smell of the beach plunged into Luz's senses, and that was a feeling she cherished. Somehow Alberto just embodied the tower he came from to her, and sand and surf. Seeing the tower empty surprised her, as Alberto's ability to amass stuff was something she cherished about him. Luz imagined the tower would like the apartment Luca and he shared.
But as the memory played out, Luz got a bad feeling that started the moment she saw Alberto's father. His face, the disdain, gave Luz a cold feeling, and seeing Alberto in that state, vulnerable and in pain, stopped her dead.
This wasn't. Was this Alberto's father? The man he sort of spoke around, tried to make him sound good, but Luz realized he tiptoed around. He was more inclined to talk about Massimo, who seemed like an actual father figure. Luz had guessed that this meant Albert's own father gave him complicated feelings, and now she was seeing why.
Luz had never thought her own mother was manipulative. She loved with her whole heart and acted on impulse. There was never a day she didn't miss her, and was still hoping against hope she would find a way back to her.
But this man? Manipulation seeped out of him. She understood immediately he had a detachment in himself, a way he kept Alberto at arm's length with his words. It cut Luz unexpectedly, that anyone could ever feel that way about her friend, but she knew not everyone saw things that way. Here, she could see clearly what was happening. This man, he liked his way of life, and Alberto was getting in the way of that.
He would, she could see now, leave Alberto if he kept becoming an inconvenience.
It was strange to have this insight, but :uz was just watching, and she had seen people like this before. She knew the feelings Alberto had to be experiencing were complicated. You're still a child, you still try to love your parent. Alberto probably didn't know quite how to think about it.
There was so much there that Luz was still trying to absorb, but she understood one thing.
Alberto was her friend. He was funny and smart, and he deserved better than that. Seeing him so vulnerable in this memory, trying to steel himself through the pain, just made her feel so angry at his father she couldn't stand it. Thank goodness he found Luca and Massimo.
Luz reached over and hugged Alberto fiercely. In the back of her mind, she felt like she should have asked, been respectful, but she knew she was acting out of her own desire too. There was a wound she hadn't expected to weather again, and she felt comfort with her friend.
All of this was. A lot. Memories Luz had not been prepared for had come to light, and old pain was reawakened. Together. That helped, and that was the other part of the hug. Luz felt her emotions bursting at the seams, and there was no way that Alberto was free of that feeling.
[[OOC: My playlist was just going at random, and as I finally finished it, this comes on. Perfect!]]
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Date: 2023-04-29 03:15 pm (UTC)It's such a short flash of errant memories, but he's aware of them just as much as she is as they bubble up. It's a most peculiar feeling, and now that they've lost what little control they had of Luz's power to start, it's becoming disorienting and overwhelming for him, who goes to such lengths to avoid thinking about these feelings. He assumes Luz must feel the same — she's not talked much about her dad as much as he's not talked much about his. He can relate with the absence, albeit wildly different types of losses. And wildly different types of men, from the impression he's getting of her father as a loving, supportive, oddball who saw the best in his daughter. He can only imagine her pain. Alberto readjusts their hug right away, so their bare skin isn't touching anywhere. But he doesn't break it — he hugs her closer, burying his face into her shoulder, careful not to make any skin-to-skin contact, but very glad for the physical comfort, too. Thank goodness it's the middle of winter and they're both bundled up well enough to have a break from the wave of memories to hug this out for a second. It'd be harder for both of them to share memories like these, surely, if it were the middle of summer and they couldn't even pause to comfort one another with a simple hug. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-04-30 11:34 am (UTC)Those, however, pale in comparison to Luz's one last jagged piece of memory: her leaving her mom in the rain, her mother begging her to come back and live with her again, swearing things would be different. It caused a lurching feeling in the girl's heart, reliving THAT moment again, one of the worst memories that lived rent free in Luz's head. It was one she still could reconcile, even as Amity had told her that they were all in the human realm again.
Luz involuntarily let's out a sob, which she does her best to choke back. She was trying to focus on Alberto, to give him some comfort. The LAST thing she needed was to remember things she couldn't fix, that affected her even as she tried to make this place work, because what else could she do?
The hug though? It helps, and it's for both of them. That last memory of Alberto looking for his father hit Luz hard, imagining how hard it must be for Alberto to keep looking but never find him, and why when he talked about a parental figure, he brought up Massimo and Bruno more often than not.
"...Sorry."
no subject
Date: 2023-05-04 01:51 pm (UTC)...It's okay.
[ His voice is a little hoarse, weak for wanting to hold back tears of his own, and hearing how his own voice is tugged with emotion, it just stirs up more tears to well up. He hugs Luz a little closer, instinctively giving her a reassuring little rub on the back — like any friend might. He's learned a lot about friendship since leaving the island. Some instincts are better than others. ]
This took a LOT out of me to write! But worth it!
Date: 2023-05-04 06:05 pm (UTC)But when she hears that answer, something does tug at Luz. It makes her pause, take in what Alberto says, and she realizes this is something they both need to understand].
No. It's not. That was hard, Alberto. Everyone has things in them that hurt, and going back there is always going to be way worse than you think. I should have KNOWN that. I have to get better with this power so we don't...overshare.
[Even if she felt like it was important that it happened. Luz now understood sometimes why Alberto did have so much of that swagger. A lot of it was Alberto himself, which Luz adored, but there was also this. Alberto was doing his best to deal with all of the conflicting emotions he had, caught up in his feelings toward his father.
Luz didn't like to admit it, but she couldn't unsee what felt like manipulation from him. She could FEEL Alberto's shame at making trouble for him, doing his best but feeling caged up, and then his father just seemed to act like it was something forced upon HIM. In that moment Luz could feel that frustration and that sadness and restlessness, something she knew all too well...and didn't.
Because she'd felt nothing but love from her Mama. Camilla wasn't in an ideal situation, but she did the best he could. And though Amity's memory had not gone that far, Luz knew her mother would take in her friends.
Alberto's dad couldn't even do that for Alberto. It was so unfair, and so wrong and it infuriated her].
And we get to cry about it. It hurts, to remember all of that stuff. It stinks that it happened to us. We are strong enough to recover, but we get to feel angry and frustrated about it too.
[Luz was getting caught up in herself right now, but she wanted to be clear that they didn't have to hide how they were feeling from each other. Luz knew it was how she coped sometimes, but Alberto? She didn't want him to feel like he had to suffer along.
She was his friend. They could feel the pain and help each other when it got like this].
annnnnnd another novel 🙃
Date: 2023-05-11 02:04 pm (UTC)But the anger he felt as he grew older became much harder to hide; the smarter he got, the more resentment he felt. The more often he'd beg to go to the human town with his father. The more often they'd fight. When he was little, he used to beg his father to stay, not to go; but much later, as he grew older, he'd sometimes get so mad that he wasn't allowed to come with him, Alberto would tell his father to go, just leave, go away and leave him alone — petty, spiteful, venomous. Ever the optimist, at least he'd then looked forward to his dad leaving, happy to be alone again on the island after they'd fight like that — a silver lining that twisted his conscience into all kinds of knots in hindsight, after his dad left for good... Alberto felt so much anger, he couldn't help but show it, though he truly tried his best to hide it — but after years of that, his facade was left thin and frayed. No one knew how to push his buttons better than his dad. It's only gotten better now by virtue of having fewer people in his life who make him that angry — namely not his dad.
But for as much as his "everything's okay" front has gotten stronger again, and things truly are better, he's still full of emotional trip wires. Kaisou hits them all the time. His worst grief here is still fresh — Bruno's only been gone a little over a month by this point... Alberto's still furious. There's nothing to do with that feeling, though, nowhere to direct it. It's no one's fault. Bruno didn't want to leave. Nothing went wrong. Only Luca knew how deeply this loss hurt Alberto, being that, until this moment here with Luz, the only other person who knew about Alberto's dad leaving him was... Bruno. It's hard to express his grief over Bruno's disappearance without getting into all the messy details of his relationship with his father... and Alberto's not the type to launch into his life story just to make himself vulnerable enough to vent for a second. Everyone who knows Alberto knows he was close with Bruno, because he never shut up about the guy! But no one knew just how much he meant to him — not even Luca, not even Bruno. So all the time now, not-so-deep-down, Alberto's still mad. Not at Bruno. Not at Kaisou. Just mad. And it leaves him in an emotional stalemate, where the best option was ultimately to just... not talk about Bruno. Really cementing Bruno as a father figure, in that regard, then. It's a lot easier to just swallow the pain and press on with a stiff upper lip — really cementing Alberto as a Madrigal, in that regard, too.
As Alberto nuzzles his face in Luz's shoulder, shaking slightly from trying and failing not to cry, his wet cheek presses against her bare neck by accident. Another stackfull of memories is accidentally absorbed — but somehow, in this moment, he doesn't mind so much. He doesn't have the strength to mind. It does the heavy lifting for him in expressing himself, after all. Just like before, they all come at once in a flash, the through string of one bleeding into the next, transferred in a matter of seconds just from a light graze. He recalls wise words from Dolores, sitting in the Zodiac apartment complex parking lot, carving pumpkins together one cool October afternoon; she struck him deeply right away, and he'll never forget what she told him, when he just assumed she'd be angry she'd left Kaisou and come back, as he tried to give her permission to be angry... she didn't want it.
"I've seen what anger can do to people. I don't want that for me."
"...So what do you do when you feel angry? Do you just— tell that voice to shut up?"
"No, of course not. But there are ways to be angry that don't cause harm to people around you. To the people who care about you. There are no bad emotions. What matters is how you express them. You understand?"
And from that... comes the guilt. Luz had at first asked Alberto for a memory no one else knew about, even Luca — and unintentionally now, she got it. On the heels of recalling Dolores' advice, which left him as conflicted as ever about how to best express his emotions, he recalls his last night in Portorosso. And for the first time, Luz gleans a more accurate vision of just what his experience was like there — not all the sunshine and rainbows Alberto painted it with.
”No."
"Why do you even care?! You don't even like me! You don't even talk to me...!"
"Ma— Alberto..."
"Just let me go, Dad!"
He'd said it by accident — by reflex. He can't count how many times in his life he's shouted, "Just let me go, Dad!" It just came out. But it was a slip for a reason. Massimo chased after him even when Alberto was lashing out at him. Then they fixed things. But his memory doesn't show that happy ending. It cuts short there, instead, shifting to a recollection of him once again lashing out. This last memory in the chain, though— this is fresh— all the details are crisp, raw, vivid, visceral... It's from a mere six weeks ago. It's set in his apartment’s living area, just on the other side of the door behind Luz and Alberto now. And inadvertently, his mind reveals the truth of just why Alberto's been without a phone for the past month, until only a week or two ago... He'd told Luz at Luca's birthday party last month that "his phone broke;" but what he meant by that, apparently, was that he furiously hurled his phone across the room til it shattered against a wall, after he found out Bruno was gone. Then proceeded to go ballistic in their bathroom. At least he confined his attack, but he definitely still went bonkers. He turns his face away from Luz once his memory strings him to that moment, slinking out of the destroyed bathroom, soaking wet, hurrying to shut the door behind him to hide the mess from Luca — who obviously knew that it was a mess, being that he heard all the destruction happening... But Alberto was thinking of Dolores' words in that moment, too, just as he is in this one. He's still struggling to understand the nuance of her advice. Either he shows his anger, and it hurts people, or he doesn't, and it hurts him. That's how he sees it. There’s another brief, contextless flash of another destroyed room, Luz’s first glimpse inside Alberto’s old tower — unfortunately, at its very worst point. At his very worst point. That pain is palpable between them, even as quick and vague as that vision is.
He moves his face to rest on the outside of Luz's shoulder, breaking that brief accidental direct contact again, overwhelmed by the wave of emotion Luz has just unleashed — both by her power and her words, and her friendship — these rough feelings hitting him over and over, breaking like tides. Washed with everything he's refused to open up about these past couple months, all his most recent pain that was easy to cover up because no one knew his backstory but Luca. But now Luz knows, so she can connect all the dots, and see a truer, fuller picture of the happy-go-lucky boy she always goofs around with. And though he's still trying to hold back tears, he doesn't break the hug, and actually accepts the comfort from his friend. She's right — things aren't okay, and he's still mad about it. He's always been mad about it. He feels very seen right now, in the best way he possibly could, really — but it still hurts to break the illusion. It's not all a front, of course not! But just goes to show Alberto’s a pretty good actor... ]
NOVELS!!!
Date: 2023-05-13 07:14 am (UTC)Alberto deserved better, deserved someone who treated him better. Luz felt that, understood that, and knew also that she had her own weight around her neck.
She had to be careful. Alberto's rope was all tangled up with the human world and his own instinct and how the things his dad did affected him. Luz understood well enough that it was enough to get Alberto to believe he was the reason his father left. He'd been too much, he was a burden no parent needed.
And Luz rejected that. Alberto was the best person she knew, as young as her, trying to make this version of the world work. He wrecked the orderly world they tried to impress on him, the world that made him lose people he loved. It was a thing Luz understood more than she expected].
I won't...it's Ok, Alberto. It hurts. And no one tells you anything. It's so stupid. But I'm here. I'll listen, all right? I'll make sure I control the whole sharing pasts but...I'll do whatever I can. I promise.
omg a decade late sorry
Date: 2023-06-08 02:32 am (UTC)...Thanks, Luz. I'll— I'll listen, too. Or talk. Or not. Whatever you need, okay? I wanna help you, too. We're friends. And—
[ He gives her shoulders another little pat, before pulling away and placing his hands comfortably on his hips, shifting his weight to one side as he so often does. Regaining that Alberto swagger, because he can't suffer another moment more of schmaltz. ]
If you can't control your past-sharing-touch-magic-thing... [ He takes a sharp, quick sigh and gives her a pressed smile. ] At least next time it probably won't be this, uh— much...? Hah.
[ One should hope. But these kids both have plenty more to dig up... and they both know that. He's just trying to lighten the mood already. What would happen if Alberto stayed serious for any significant amount of time? Would he faint...? ]
Re: omg a decade late sorry
Date: 2023-06-08 05:30 pm (UTC)Thanks. I'm grateful for that. Pretty sure neither of us are used to talking about our pain, but I think it helps. We need to, you know? If we just keep it to ourselves, we'll only feel worse. That could lead to some bad situations.
[Luz had understood well enough that if she didn't talk about Amity, didn't at least find some outlet, she'd be in her room crying and holding on to the necklace she'd given her girlfriend that was now in her possession. The swagger from Alberto to regain the situation was helpful, and she couldn't help chuckle].
I'll make sure I control that. No way we could have another emotional episode like this one! Sheesh! I feel like I've had ten crying sessions!
[Luz was pretty sure he would faint, but it was appreciated. They went through a lot. Some levity was very much appreciated]!