Andrew was sitting on the floor of his room, with a pile of open comics scattered across the carpet.
Willa, on the other hand, was lying on her bed face down, legs crossed in the air, flipping through a Star Wars comic with a critical expression.
"Do you seriously like The Phantom Menace?" Willa asked without looking up.
She was referring to Star Wars: Episode I – The Phantom Menace, the 1999 film that marked George Lucas's return to the saga, and also, the most controversial of them all.
"I already told you I do. And you're not going to change my mind," Andrew replied, flipping through another issue without looking at her.
"Please. It's a movie with more diplomacy than action, a charisma-free kid doing boring races, and the most annoying character in the galaxy," Willa scoffed.
"Jar Jar?" Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing at her.
"Obviously," said Willa.
"I think he's charismatic, loyal, and has good vibes," Andrew said with a slight smile, one that immediately irritated Willa.
"He's annoying! Just like that little smirk of yours," she said, pointing a finger at his face.
Andrew smiled even more. "I like him better than C-3PO, for example. Plus, the aesthetic of Episode I is great. The Jedi Council, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon..."
Willa looked at him like she'd just heard heresy, "What did you just say?"
"C-3PO. I'm not that into him. He's always whining, not that useful, and unlike R2, he doesn't even seem that loyal," Andrew said without hesitation, holding her gaze without fear.
"C-3PO is a classic. He's history. He's part of the soul of the original trilogy. Loyal? R2 literally drags him along in every movie! They cut his wires, abandon him, and he still goes with him everywhere!" Willa shot back.
"R2 is the soul. C-3PO is... the guy nobody wants to invite, but he still shows up," Andrew said, shrugging as he watched her explode.
Willa glared at him, "Why are you so stubborn?" she said, pointing at him again.
"Stubborn, me?" Andrew raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah… and you? What, understanding? You can't tolerate someone disagreeing with you. You're like those old-school fans who repeat that everything new is garbage. You act like you're going to short-circuit if people don't cheer for everything you say," Andrew added with a slight, defiant smile.
Willa huffed, crossing her arms. "I'm not like those old guys who think they're superior. My arguments are valid. You're the one who doesn't want to get them."
"I don't agree. It's not that I don't get them," Andrew replied, shrugging again.
Willa rolled her eyes, "Okay, and what about the midichlorians? You going to defend that too?"
"I'll give you that one," Andrew said, and Willa smiled slightly.
"Thanks. Because reducing the Force to a lab report is a total betrayal of what made it special," Willa said, and Andrew agreed.
The Force, before the 1999 movie, had been something mystical, spiritual. But in that episode, midichlorians were introduced: microscopic organisms living in the blood that determined a person's level of connection to the Force.
For many fans, both old-school and new, it was like turning a magical legend into a clinical diagnosis.
It reduced the greatness of destiny to a simple biological count.
You were no longer chosen because of your spirit, but because of your cells.
For many, it shattered the mythical poetry of the Force, turning something abstract into something measurable.
"I'll admit though, Revenge of the Sith is amazing. It has drama, betrayal, tragedy... everything a good story needs," Willa acknowledged, making it clear she wasn't a mindless hater of the new trilogy.
"And it kind of washes away the mess that was Episode II," Andrew added.
Willa smiled when she heard that, "See? I did manage to teach you something," she said with a triumphant smile.
"No. I just said something I already believed. But it's cute that you're taking it as a win," Andrew replied.
"You're insufferable," Willa said, unable to hold back a quick, genuine laugh.
It was right then that the half-open door swung fully open.
"Am I interrupting something?" Pippa asked as she stepped into the room.
Willa, still lying comfortably on Andrew's bed, didn't flinch. She sat up calmly, still smiling, "I was just correcting your boyfriend's questionable taste."
"She verbally assaulted me for saying I like C-3PO less than Jar Jar," Andrew added, looking at Pippa with a mock victim expression.
Pippa narrowed her eyes, unsure whether to laugh or sigh.
'C-3PO... I think that was the golden robot, she thought, slightly furrowing her brow.
As for Jar Jar, she had absolutely no idea who that was.
Ridiculous name, though.
Andrew had told her they should watch the whole saga together. But she only made it through Episode IV. Not because it was bad, but because… it just didn't grab her.
Not the story, not the characters, not the old-school pacing.
And even though she tried to continue, she didn't have enough motivation to sit through five more movies.
"Uh-huh… yeah. Very serious stuff, that robot and the... Jar something," Pippa said, not really sure what else to say.
Willa looked at her for a moment. Not mockingly, just observing.
Andrew chuckled, noticing Pippa's confusion. "I'll give you a summary later. A short one."
"My mom's on her way to pick me up," Pippa said.
Andrew stood up right away, "I'll walk you to the door."
"No need," Pippa said with a small smile, "Your dad always opens for me. You stay and keep arguing, looks like you're having fun."
She didn't say it with jealousy or coldness. Then she took a step toward him.
And before Andrew could say anything else, she kissed him.
Not a quick kiss. A passionate, lingering one.
Willa, still sitting on the bed, couldn't help but look at first.
Just for a second, then she lowered her gaze to the comic in her hands.
Andrew pulled back, looking at Pippa with a curious expression, this wasn't like her. She usually wasn't the type for passionate kisses, especially not in front of people.
"Text me when you get home."
"I will," Pippa said with a slight smile. Before leaving, she turned to Willa.
"See you, Willa. Have a nice evening."
"You too," Willa replied in a neutral tone, not lifting her eyes from the comic.
As Pippa walked out of the room, she couldn't help but notice that the way Willa interacted with Andrew was different.
With Howard and Leonard, she didn't laugh like that, didn't lie around comfortably, or argue with a half-smile on her lips.
She felt a strange knot in her stomach that she couldn't quite explain.
It wasn't jealousy, or insecurity like with Regina.
It was more like a premonition.
After Pippa left, Andrew kept debating Star Wars with Willa for a while longer. Then they returned to the living room, and in less than an hour, everyone had gone home.
Andrew tidied up and cleaned, then headed to bed.
…
The next morning, the sun was barely filtering through the blinds when Cameron announced he needed a new shirt.
That evening, they were having dinner at Jay's house, and Gloria was cooking Colombian food, which, for Cam, was practically a ceremonial event, since it was a tribute to Gloria's late grandmother.
So a few hours after waking up, there they were: Cameron, Mitchell, Lily in her stroller, and Andrew, all sitting on a long couch inside a clothing store.
Or rather, Andrew was slumped on the couch, arms crossed and wearing an expression that screamed: How did I end up here?
His phone had run out of battery. God had abandoned him.
"I don't know when I agreed to come," Andrew muttered, staring at the ceiling with resignation.
"You should know how long Cam takes by now..." Mitchell replied, playing Flappy Bird on his phone.
"Hey, let me play, will you?" Andrew asked, noticing his dad's phone still had battery.
"Use yours," Mitchell said, pulling the phone slightly away from Andrew.
"Tsch, stingy," Andrew muttered, then started playing with Lily, who was sitting in her stroller.
After several long minutes, Cameron finally came out of the fitting room wearing a white shirt decorated with small dark blue dots.
He was so focused on his own reflection that he didn't even notice Andrew's face.
"Okay, what do we think?" he asked.
"I like it," Mitchell said with a sincere but short tone.
Andrew just gave a thumbs-up from the bench, not moving an inch.
"But you don't love it," Cam said, looking directly at Mitchell with a hint of disappointment.
"Yes, yes, I love it," Mitchell corrected instantly, sitting up a little straighter.
"More than the other one?"
That question created a pause.
Mitchell hesitated.
Just enough for Cam to huff, spin around, and head back into the fitting room like he was walking into the third act of a drama.
Andrew let his head fall back and sighed, "Haven't you learned there's only one acceptable answer to all of this? 'Yes, I love it,' without thinking."
"I can't lie that blatantly. He has a radar for that," Mitchell replied.
A few seconds passed.
Then Cameron emerged again, this time wearing a more subdued gray shirt with a more formal cut.
"Alright. Let's suppose the house is on fire and you only have time to grab one shirt. Which shirt do you grab first?"
Mitchell blinked and answered without hesitation, "The correct answer is Lily."
"I'd grab my comics and my figures," Andrew said from the couch. "Then jump out the window."
"After that," Cam said, rolling his eyes.
"Fine, the blue one," Mitchell conceded with a shrug.
Cam looked at him with a raised eyebrow, scandalized. "The blue one!? Does the gray make me look washed out? Is that what you're saying?"
"No! There's no bad choice. Everything looks good on you," Mitchell said, quickly standing and approaching him with a pacifying smile. "I love both."
Meanwhile, Andrew leaned over to look at Lily, who stared back at him with her attentive little Asian eyes, waiting for some brotherly wisdom.
"You're gonna have to get used to this," Andrew whispered. "Our dad's worse than teenage girls. And that's saying something, my girlfriend is one... and she picks her clothes in exactly three minutes."
Cam heard the comment but chose to ignore it. He had more important matters to attend to.
Mitchell, still standing nearby, tried to ease the tension with another compliment, but before he could escape, Cam leaned in, clearly aiming for a kiss on the lips.
Mitchell, with well-trained reflexes, pulled back with an awkward smile and gave him two odd pats on the shoulder. "Thanks for... trying stuff on," he said with a weird smile, backing away toward the couch.
Cam froze, lips tight, eyes narrowed, watching him walk off.
[Cam's commentary]
"Mitchell has a problem with public displays of affection. On New Year's Eve, right at midnight, he tried to high five me. There are two problems with that," Cam began.
"One: gay men don't high five. Two: gay men don't high five."
[End of commentary]
Meanwhile, Andrew was still sitting next to Lily's stroller. She looked at him with a neutral expression, like a silent spectator to her family's drama.
Andrew leaned in and spoke to her softly, giving a little insight into the chaos.
"You'll get used to this, Lily," he said.
The baby blinked, and Andrew leaned a little closer, as if talking to his baby sister, who didn't understand a word, was more fun than staring at the ceiling.
"See… Dad Mitch is kinda complicated when it comes to affection. And Dad Cam… well, he's very expressive. And that combo..."
He made a small gesture with his fingers, like mimicking a tiny explosion.
"But you won't have to worry about any of this when you grow up. It's not weird to have two dads. In fact, you're lucky to have them," Andrew continued.
Lily let out a small sound, as if replying. Andrew chuckled softly.
"And if one day someone, at school, on the street, wherever, looks at you funny or says something stupid because you have two dads..." Andrew said, straightening up a bit.
"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."
Lily looked at him with the seriousness of someone who understood nothing but sensed she should stay quiet.
"I promise. No one's going to mess with you, because I'll be there," Andrew said, then paused for a few seconds.
"Unless I die of a heart attack in a year and a half, of course. But let's cross our fingers on that one, okay?"
He smiled to himself, a kind of humor that only makes sense when you've already died once.
Seeing that Lily was no longer paying attention and was now playing with one of her toys, Andrew sighed and looked toward the fitting room. Cam had gone in with yet another shirt.
It was going to be a long afternoon.
-------------------------------------------------
You can read 15 chapters in advance on my patreon.
Link: https://[email protected]/Nathe07